It was hidden deep within the Spineridge Mountains, far from civilization where no man dare traveled for fear of the beasts that lurked within the mountains shadows. The beaten trails that the brave souls traveled curved miles out of their way to avoid Dragonreach Valley where a single mountain rose from the center of the valley. Situated at the four cardinal directions stood towers that were half the height of the mountain they surrounded.
In the northern tower, before day break, at the very top of the tower where the only ceiling was the twinkling of stars high above sat three crimson robed figures. Though the morning carried a chill wind from the east the three figures seemed undisturbed by it. One might notice that the stone table they sat at, which formed a half-circle, had two empty seats at either end of the table.
Thirteen pillars circled the top of the northern tower, each depicting scenes of a time long past, a torch at each pillar cast long and eerie shadows over the gathering. Situated in the center of the half circle was a single bench large enough for five full-grown men to sit shoulder to shoulder. It would be here the initiates would be seated with their wyrmlings.
Though the three figures seated at the table were robed glimpses of each could be scene from time to time. Scaled skin or a clawed finger, a glowing cat like eye if the fire flickered just right. The scene set before the youth was one meant to cloaked in mystery.
However, despite the scene on the tower, the truly humbling sight would be the four winged creatures that flew above. Their forms silhouetted by the stars and the moon, mammoth beasts of legend, each far too large to even land on the top of the tower for it would surely crumble under their weight! Every beat of a wing sent a stir of air swirling down to cause the torches too flicker and dance about. Though, the dragons were large, they remained an arrow flights distance away.
The shrouded individual seated in the middle spoke, a women by the sound of her surprisingly soothing voice. “Welcome, young riders. Stand and present yourself to this council.”
They were the only words spoken, three sets of cat like eyes watched the young riders before them, waiting.
In the northern tower, before day break, at the very top of the tower where the only ceiling was the twinkling of stars high above sat three crimson robed figures. Though the morning carried a chill wind from the east the three figures seemed undisturbed by it. One might notice that the stone table they sat at, which formed a half-circle, had two empty seats at either end of the table.
Thirteen pillars circled the top of the northern tower, each depicting scenes of a time long past, a torch at each pillar cast long and eerie shadows over the gathering. Situated in the center of the half circle was a single bench large enough for five full-grown men to sit shoulder to shoulder. It would be here the initiates would be seated with their wyrmlings.
Though the three figures seated at the table were robed glimpses of each could be scene from time to time. Scaled skin or a clawed finger, a glowing cat like eye if the fire flickered just right. The scene set before the youth was one meant to cloaked in mystery.
However, despite the scene on the tower, the truly humbling sight would be the four winged creatures that flew above. Their forms silhouetted by the stars and the moon, mammoth beasts of legend, each far too large to even land on the top of the tower for it would surely crumble under their weight! Every beat of a wing sent a stir of air swirling down to cause the torches too flicker and dance about. Though, the dragons were large, they remained an arrow flights distance away.
The shrouded individual seated in the middle spoke, a women by the sound of her surprisingly soothing voice. “Welcome, young riders. Stand and present yourself to this council.”
They were the only words spoken, three sets of cat like eyes watched the young riders before them, waiting.