Craig Huther Wielding magic and tech, often hand in hand

The City of O

Trill let out a sigh of relief as she sat down in the shade of a dune. The sun soared high overhead as she looked across the field of Nuzl, keeping a watchful eye out for any scale rat movements.

This year will be a good harvest. The new King brings us good fortune.

The crops haven’t grown this fast before. Maybe her sisters or mother would know. As Trill started to softly whistle to herself, a glint of silver on the horizon caught her eye. She darted across the field and perched up behind dune.

It doesn’t look like a raid, no one in their right mind would be marching this time of day. Anyway it’s going too slow…

She strained hard and could just barely make out a standard that was being carried. A broad shield. She quickly ran back to tell the elders what she saw.

Some time later that day

A large crowd had gathered to seen the Northerners enter the city. It had been sometime since anyone had see the pale skin visitors.

They’re smaller than I thought they would be.

Trill had climbed up to her spot, a shaded cot on top of her mothers mill, she sat on the edge of the roof. From here she could see the entrance to O’, but more importantly she could see and hear into Elder’s Square. The Five Matrons were sitting in the square, dressed up in their brightly colored shawls, their jewels and silver glinting brightly in the sun. Sitting next to Matron Shra’lirah, wearing a thin silver crown, was the newly anointed King.

He’s still just a youngling. I could take him in O’rat’har easily

This was the first time Trill had seen the King. He was scrawny, but had a look of determination that could cut through the thickest hide.

The Northerners marched slowly towards the square, they had tied their horses outside the walls. Eight of them carried a large ornate wooden chest, each with silver metal covering every inch of their skin.

How have they not died from exhaustion in that garb?

Behind them were three more important looking Northerners; two dressed in more ornate silver metal and one dressed in white and silver robes.

What queer colored hair… It must be unnatural

Trill had heard stories of how diverse the Northerners were, but purple was the strangest color for hair. He’s clearly not a warrior, maybe a warlock or sorcerer.

When the procession finally entered Elder’s Square a hushed silence spread. The Eight men with the large chest stopped just before the young king, and knelt.

The violet haired man stepped forward and bowed before the king, and began to speak in a tongue Trill did not know. The Elders seemed to however, as they nodded slowly as the man spoke. He then stepped up the chest and threw the lid open.

“For the new brave King, from the Royal Coffers we offer this as a token of Goodwill.” The man’s orcish was rough but good for a Northerner.

Trill had never seen such wealth in one chest. Large jewels, brightly colored gems, silver and gold coins filled the wooden chest. A murmur came over the crowd at the generous display. But it quickly ended when the King stood.

“I graciously accept your token and request you stay here as long as you’d like. We shall feast at dusk. May all in attendance know that Hilgarth and Balujan shall stand as one.”

Trill buzzed with excitement. Nothing of this sort had ever happened. The new King brings us good fortune!

[ dnd  hilgarth  lore  ]