[center][img]https://www.sneakandshow.com/images/article_lg/aleksi-briclot.jpg[/img] [h3][color=steelblue]T H E C R O W N L E S S S H A L L A G A I N B E K I N G[/color][/h3] [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img] [color=steelblue][i]Far to the northwest of the country of Altus, at the very edge of the known world, there lies a great mountain range known as the Dragon's Spine. It has been named such for as long as any can remember, since the elder days of antiquity. The mountains consistently crackle with storms and lightnings, smitten by the capricious will of nature. No one dares venture too high, or worse, too deep into the caves that run beneath the mountains, where the sparks of light and lightning are at their fiercest. What few people understand, and even fewer truly know, is the truth of why these mountains are named such. In fact, many have questioned why the peaks are named for a dragon, rather than for the storms that strike them. But the truth is that, while the mountains have always been there, the storms have not. In the grand history of Altus, they are a relatively new addition- only five thousand winters or so. For the Dragon's Spine, unbeknownst to most, is the last resting place of Erebus Thane, the Uncrowned King. It was here, in a city beneath the earth, that the Dragon-Blooded made his final stand, against a fearsome foe who had slain many of his descendants. It was here, in his outrage, that Erebus commanded the thunders, and collapsed his foe's dead city upon their heads, leaving the great Spine as the only monument to his triumph, as well as his demise. It was here that his rage has touched the earth forevermore, as a reminder of the wrath of he who owned the earth without claiming it. A fitting tombstone for the Uncrowned King of all the world...[/i][/color] [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img] Some miles southeast of the Spine lay the village of Thorn, a hardy community, used to the storms that frequently blew down from the Dragon's Spine. It was relatively peaceful in the village that day, a fitting calm before the storm that was to follow. It started simply- a whisper more of wind than was considered usual. And then that whisper started to grow. From whisper to sigh, to breath, to gust then gale, until the wind screamed across the village. The skies blackened with storm clouds, and thunder began to rumble in the skies. The storm came suddenly- too suddenly, according to the village's memory. Something was different. Not precisely wrong- they were used to stronger storms. Simply different. Unbeknownst to them, in the caves beneath the Spine, in the Necropolis that Erebus had buried, the sparks of electricity had grown fiercer than they had ever been, lightning dancing between the stones of the earth, gathering at a single point in the center of what had been the city square. The very place the Dragon-Blooded had breathed his last. And over the roar of lightning beneath the earth was another sound- the sound of a great beast, growling, snarling. [i]Waking.[/i] If the storm had failed to garner the proper attention from the village folk, what followed certainly would not. Without warning, a blinding shaft of lightning erupted from one of the tallest peaks on the Dragon's Spine- a blue-white bar of light, more than a jagged bolt, piercing the skies like the spear of an angry god. And over the howling wind and the rumbling thunders, rose a sound that seemed to dwarf them all. A roar, both human, and inhuman, both man and beast. The roar of the dragon as he returned from death into his domain once again. The people of Thorn gaped at the bar of lightning until it faded, and with it, the storm, vanishing just as suddenly as it came upon them. There was silence for many heartbeats, before the village people turned to one another... ...and grinned. They then proceeded onward, busying themselves, preparing. For the village must be in proper order to receive their King...[/center]