KELAN EMPIRE
The sound of horse's hooves clopping along the path, as a young man hid amongst the burlap sacks and boxes within the back of the carriage. He knew they were drawing near and hopped out of the back, careful not to drop his bag, and hid amongst the undergrowth. Aymon Garro, a strong and broad shouldered human man pulled up his hood as he scanned over the on goings of Westmore from the outskirts. The sounds of the surrounding nature were unnerving, and it didn't help Aymon who was already on edge. He was being hunted. He opened his pack to make sure it was still there. A crystalline-like egg glistening in the light of the night sky, one of the most beautiful things he had ever laid eyes on. Aymon closed up the pack once again. The road of Westmore was well travelled, as many different trade caravans regularly passed through the town. He watched as the cart he had stowed away on entered the confides of the town and the guards began to inspect its wares. It was impossible to go around, the town of Westmore was on the very border of the neighboring countries, valleyed between a vast mountain range as endlessly tall as the ocean was far. At least that's what it seemed to Aymon as he looked up, the mountain peaks disappearing into the clouds. Aymon continued to study the front gate, the habits of the guards, and finally decided to approach. As he encroached, a voice called out; "You there!" Aymon laid his hands on one of the daggers at his sides. It seemed two of the guards had taken notice. Both guards brandished their small spears. "Now what is a man doing entering Westmore at this time of night? You don't look like a caravan trader. State you business." Aymon raised a small coin purse and jingled the bag making sure it was audible for the two men, the sounds of a smattering of coins bouncing off one another. Both of the guards knew this meant the stranger wanted safe passage. "Entering the border of the Shadehills, eh? Your funeral." The men let Aymon pass with no further questions asked, greedily opening the purse and looking at the gold they had just been gifted. He then stepped foot over the invisible line, leaving his home land of the Kelan Empire for the first time, and crossed the border into some of the most miserable, unforgiving lands that Almeria had to offer.
Aymon had been a part of a mining expedition. A large operation had been under way by order of the Kelan Empire in search of sheen stone, a blueish crystal with magical properties, to harness its power and utilize it against their enemies. Aymon was digging into some of the richer sourced areas of the Sheenstone Mountains when his group stumbled upon something unexpected; their small tunnel opened up into a massive sheen stone cavern. Lighting a torch revealed the entire cavern was radiating with a blue hue; it was a massive sheen stone geode, with what looked like a large calcite deposit fifty meters below them. They had hit the jackpot, and knew the Kelan Empire was going to reward their crew bigtime.
The crew left to tell the foreman of their discovery, but Aymon stayed behind, and tying off a few ropes to a tunnel support nearby, descended into the depths to investigate what they had stumbled upon. Reaching the bottom of the cavern, and with a wave of his torch, confirmed how bountiful the sheen stone was. Combining the efforts between all of the various mining operations over the course of 10 years, the amount sheen stone present either matched or exceeded how much they had mined up to that point. Aymon walked up excitedly to inspect the calcite deposit in the center of the room and picked up a mesmerizing standalone calcite oval; surprisingly light, curiously not attached to the rock, and was warm to the touch. He then looked over the massive stalagmite mound beside but stopped dead in his tracks. Although silent, it was moving, and Aymon knew now the thing he held in his hands was no ordinary stone, but the egg of a massive white dragon. Clasping it against his chest, he backed away slowly from whence he came, taking more care in his footing than when he had initially entered. He placed it into his bag, and climbed back to the entrance that they had carved. Aymon wasn't sure what he was doing, but he was overwhelmed by the objects beauty and he knew it had to be his. He heard the foreman and crew members returning in a cheery tone, and instead of warning his compatriots, slipped through unnoticed. His walk turned into a jog, and then a run as the sound of an ungodly roar echoed behind him. He felt a heat creep to his spine, looking behind seeing blue flames engulfing the entirety of the tunnel, and continued running, exiting the mine, and into the open air.
SHADEHILLS
Aymon knew his best chance was to get as far away as possible, and the Shadehills were famous for hiding those who didn't want to be found. Aymon Garro had no one depending on him, and he wouldn't be missed. Passing through the town of Westmore, he spent the last of his coin on a direhorn, a large goat-like creature adept in traversing the Shadehill's rocky landscape. He had already put miles upon miles between himself and the Sheenstone Mountains, but still pressed on down the main road, determined to never be found. Its mine. A smile crept across Aymon's face as he stole a glance at the egg once more. Travelling for a great many days without incident, he approached the outskirts of a quaint village. Coincidentally, his food and supplies had run low, and with nothing more than the reason of stopping out of convenience, Aymon Garro found work as a lumberjack and settled down in the small village of Fog Mourne.
As time past, word had travelled of the white dragon, Mythren The Bitter, who had scorched the lands of the Sheenstone Mountains, and had killed many in the Kelan Empire. Tales of mercenaries, and later armies, sent to slay the infernal, feral beast; but to no avail. A great deal of the Kelan Empire's civilians refuged and then relocated in neighboring countries to escape Mythren's relentless reign of terror, all the while Aymon lived a comfortable normal life in Fog Mourne, raising a family of two sons and two daughters. Although his spur of the moment decision had been to steal the egg for its unwavering crystalline beauty, his addiction for it began to wane throughout the years, finding new purpose in the confides of his family.
It happened late at night; his family had gone to bed, and Aymon felt a familiar itch begin to creep into the back of his mind; a feeling he hadn't had in a long while. He took the egg from under the floorboards of his home and went outside to bask in his life's greatest accomplishment. He looked at the pristine crystal egg, shining in the azure moonlight and a rush of memories of his old life came back to him, as he sat there smiling with an exuberating confidence. Just as he put the egg to his lips, the sky exploded into a familiar roar, the one that used to fuel his nightmares, and he watched in horror as his family's house and the rest of Fog Mourne erupted into a blue flame.
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