The wind shrieked and howled around the old fortress as the sun slowly crept its way up into the sky above the peaks of the mountains that rose up like colossal pillars. There was much commotion and ado from the Oshweli party as the small column prepared to undertake its journey.
The large and foreboding doors upon the ancient fortress creaked open as the servants turned the cranks in the gatehouse; The doors of this mountain fortress were covered in the harsh carvings and markings, intimidating and menacing.
A diminutive figure emerged from the candlelit hallway within, wearing a thick gambeson and fur wrapped around his shoulders to help combat the cold. A pair of brilliant green eyes starred out at the world, more catlike or reptilian than they were human, piercing in their gaze. His black hair was cut short around the tiny horns that stood out from him, giving him an almost impish appearance. Notably, he was short even by the standards of the Western Drakken by a good six inches, themselves generally shorter than the Great Drakken of the eastern provinces, something which was often a hotly debated point in the common bizarre and all too often xenophobic criticisms the cultures of the west and east of Drakka projected onto each other - when they weren't too busy turning on their own subcultures or mocking the non-Drakken cultures. A critique had once been made of an Astalonian scholar that "the only thing the Drakken agree on is that they hate everyone else more than they hate each other" and, in fairness, it was not often far from true.
This was Zakroti Unalim, one of the Great Lords of the West and heir apparent of its dominions. Or perhaps rather, what was left of its dominion after it had lost its imperial possessions and been brought to heel by the Great Drakken. He had few friends in east or north Drakka, but back in the west he had reputation enough to command respect despite his runtish stature. To his right stood another figure, somewhat taller and clad in a hauberk with a large spear, similar reptile like eyes sat upon his face, but his features were softer and more rounded, and a long scar that ran from above his brow down across his face marred his features, and behind the both of them was a small collection of warriors and bodyguards, a handpicked honour guard.
Zakroti nodded to Aurien as the pair exited the building together, peering towards the mounts as they were prepared for riding by the serjeant-at-arms. It was not an easy road ahead by anyone's reckoning, to ride from the furthest east parts if drakka to near enough the further west, not far from the border with Kalderas. They would undoubtedly have to stop multiple timed along the way, although the young lord was want to linger far from the familiar lands of the west for very long.
Zakroti placed a hand upon Miry's shoulder gently and gave her a light nod and reassuring smile as he peered up towards the mount, a hardy and overgrown lizard. It was a Ganaut, a species of large domesticated quadrupedal reptiles native to the eastern lands of Drakka. Tough, sharp claws protruded out, clearly able to rend flesh with ease if it had wanted to. They were hardy and tough, well suited for riding over the rocky terrain that stretched out for many miles from the Shadow Wroth, down from the mountains. The creature turned its green scaled head to regard them, eyes blinking a few times as its tongue licked at the air to smell their approach.
These beasts of the east were often used as mounts in times of war or in hunts as well, for they were swift and excellent at tracking, intelligent and multiskilled creatures. They were adapt at climbing, even with their masters atop them if they were light enough, and so the Oshwel had long made use of lightly armoured warriors atop Ganauts as skirmishers in battle. Their sharp claws and large teeth made them terrifying enemies to behold as well, which added to shock they could deliver to enemy morale. They were also surprisingly low upkeep animals in times of peace; The rocky regions they initially came from were relatively desolate compared to the rest of Drakka, and these beasts led a rather sedentary lifestyle. They would kill and consume prey nearly whole, then rest themselves on a rock by a spring or watering hole and spend months digesting their prey. The Drakken took full advantage of this once they had begun taming them, and alongside the Horses that had long since been transplanted into Drakka, the Ganaut had seen widespread use as mounts by nobles and commoners alike.
"I doubt you've ever seem one of these, let alone ridden one." Zakroti said, stepping forward and running a hand along his mounts head softly, causing it to let out a strange noise, a rhythmic clicking roughly analogous to a purr. "His name is Valyatonzstar, he is a Ganaut. Don't worry, he looks more terrifying than he is. This ones soft at heart."
Zakroti looked back to the brides, well aware that this was likely fat from a comfortable experience for them to have not only been plucked and dropped into this foreign land, but now to be face to face which was undoubtedly a nightmarish creature compared to the more idyllic and familiar ones of their homeland - A creature they were expected to ride, at that. Still, it was what it was, they would change mounts at the City of Kazark once they reached the Steppes some 25 leagues to the west, and from there would take the road westwards over the hills and dales.
The large and foreboding doors upon the ancient fortress creaked open as the servants turned the cranks in the gatehouse; The doors of this mountain fortress were covered in the harsh carvings and markings, intimidating and menacing.
A diminutive figure emerged from the candlelit hallway within, wearing a thick gambeson and fur wrapped around his shoulders to help combat the cold. A pair of brilliant green eyes starred out at the world, more catlike or reptilian than they were human, piercing in their gaze. His black hair was cut short around the tiny horns that stood out from him, giving him an almost impish appearance. Notably, he was short even by the standards of the Western Drakken by a good six inches, themselves generally shorter than the Great Drakken of the eastern provinces, something which was often a hotly debated point in the common bizarre and all too often xenophobic criticisms the cultures of the west and east of Drakka projected onto each other - when they weren't too busy turning on their own subcultures or mocking the non-Drakken cultures. A critique had once been made of an Astalonian scholar that "the only thing the Drakken agree on is that they hate everyone else more than they hate each other" and, in fairness, it was not often far from true.
This was Zakroti Unalim, one of the Great Lords of the West and heir apparent of its dominions. Or perhaps rather, what was left of its dominion after it had lost its imperial possessions and been brought to heel by the Great Drakken. He had few friends in east or north Drakka, but back in the west he had reputation enough to command respect despite his runtish stature. To his right stood another figure, somewhat taller and clad in a hauberk with a large spear, similar reptile like eyes sat upon his face, but his features were softer and more rounded, and a long scar that ran from above his brow down across his face marred his features, and behind the both of them was a small collection of warriors and bodyguards, a handpicked honour guard.
Zakroti nodded to Aurien as the pair exited the building together, peering towards the mounts as they were prepared for riding by the serjeant-at-arms. It was not an easy road ahead by anyone's reckoning, to ride from the furthest east parts if drakka to near enough the further west, not far from the border with Kalderas. They would undoubtedly have to stop multiple timed along the way, although the young lord was want to linger far from the familiar lands of the west for very long.
Zakroti placed a hand upon Miry's shoulder gently and gave her a light nod and reassuring smile as he peered up towards the mount, a hardy and overgrown lizard. It was a Ganaut, a species of large domesticated quadrupedal reptiles native to the eastern lands of Drakka. Tough, sharp claws protruded out, clearly able to rend flesh with ease if it had wanted to. They were hardy and tough, well suited for riding over the rocky terrain that stretched out for many miles from the Shadow Wroth, down from the mountains. The creature turned its green scaled head to regard them, eyes blinking a few times as its tongue licked at the air to smell their approach.
These beasts of the east were often used as mounts in times of war or in hunts as well, for they were swift and excellent at tracking, intelligent and multiskilled creatures. They were adapt at climbing, even with their masters atop them if they were light enough, and so the Oshwel had long made use of lightly armoured warriors atop Ganauts as skirmishers in battle. Their sharp claws and large teeth made them terrifying enemies to behold as well, which added to shock they could deliver to enemy morale. They were also surprisingly low upkeep animals in times of peace; The rocky regions they initially came from were relatively desolate compared to the rest of Drakka, and these beasts led a rather sedentary lifestyle. They would kill and consume prey nearly whole, then rest themselves on a rock by a spring or watering hole and spend months digesting their prey. The Drakken took full advantage of this once they had begun taming them, and alongside the Horses that had long since been transplanted into Drakka, the Ganaut had seen widespread use as mounts by nobles and commoners alike.
"I doubt you've ever seem one of these, let alone ridden one." Zakroti said, stepping forward and running a hand along his mounts head softly, causing it to let out a strange noise, a rhythmic clicking roughly analogous to a purr. "His name is Valyatonzstar, he is a Ganaut. Don't worry, he looks more terrifying than he is. This ones soft at heart."
Zakroti looked back to the brides, well aware that this was likely fat from a comfortable experience for them to have not only been plucked and dropped into this foreign land, but now to be face to face which was undoubtedly a nightmarish creature compared to the more idyllic and familiar ones of their homeland - A creature they were expected to ride, at that. Still, it was what it was, they would change mounts at the City of Kazark once they reached the Steppes some 25 leagues to the west, and from there would take the road westwards over the hills and dales.