Roughly a month after what had become known as the Slaughter of Mithrim, the kings of the three allied races met in the draconic capital of Drak’ir. This was because it was the only city that could fit the enormous King Tyran, and his advisors. The elf king Lorian, and the dwarf king Tholin had been given the honor of being flown to the capital on dragonback by Alaron and his twin, Alaria. Alaron had gone to the elf city, which was a five day’s journey from Drak’ir, while Alaria had gone to Anastheim, which was roughly a six days away. She had returned to Drak'ir earlier that morning, and the two mortal kings had been given every comfort they desired. Once the sun had reached its zenith, the three leaders met in the dragon’s lavish council chamber, and King Tyran opened the meeting first with condolences for the forces lost at Mithrim, then with greetings. King Lorian was the first to speak of the topic they had needed to discuss, “My old friends, we face dark times indeed. As soon as I received word of these new creatures from our magicians in Mithrim, I had by best researchers scour our history books for any reference. We were lucky, in our oldest tome, one which is considered taboo to read by our laws; we found a reference to the creatures our forces fought.” Tyran and Tholin nodded for Lorian to continue. “The creatures are known to elves as Orc’ali Monstroso, or ‘Orcs’ for short. My people warred with them long before Misa’thral was founded. Before Anastheim, or even dragons appeared in this land, these orcs lived in what we thought was the trollish capital of Krag’marok. It was, in fact, an Orcish city first. Our armies drove the beasts out of the city with our refined steel and magic, and we left it to rot. It wasn’t until long after the dwarves arrived that we began to fight the trolls. Eventually, our three races focused entirely on defense instead of offense, and gave our cities time to grow. Somewhere during this period, the dragons were discovered, and enslaved. After their enslavement, the elves and dwarves forged a mutual understanding, and united, temporarily, to drive out the trolls. We were unsuccessful, and our failure was blamed upon the other. It wasn’t until the dragon’s golden saviors appeared that the trolls were driven away. The rest is history.”
Tyran, who sat regally while he listened to the graying elf’s tale, lowered his long neck and met the elf’s eyes saying, “Where, my fellow king Lorian, did the Orcs go? What happened to them?” “We know not King Tyran. Records of the beasts disappeared two decades after the dwarves arrived.” Lorian replied. Tholin thumped his gauntleted fist on the circular table that took up the center of the room, a gesture used by dwarves to get attention when discussing, and began to speak, “Aye, the elf king is right. We ‘ave records of the beasties fightin’ us fer two decades outside o’ Anastheim before tha trolls replaced’em. We jus’ thought they were big trolls, perhaps they are eh? We need tae know why they left, an’ why they’ve come back again. It can’t mean anythin’ good lads.” Now it was Tyran’s turn to speak, “Agreed. If the two of you are also in agreement, then I shall dispatch our best scouts to find and fly over their city. Perhaps if we can see how the two races interact off the battlefield, we can understand why they have returned.” The two other kings nodded their agreement to the massive ruby dragon’s proposal. Lorian said, with a note of finality, “Let it be done then.”
“There is however,” Tyran continued, “One other proposal I would like your opinions on, while you’re here.” The elf and the dwarf halted from rising from their newly-made mortal size seats, and nodded for the dragon king to continue. “I propose that, instead of leaving Mithrim open to further attack from these creatures, we build a new city to draw their military attention to.” King Tholin’s jaw hung open, but King Lorian stroked his graying blonde beard, and asked, “If we were to build such a city, not only would we have to build it between Mithrim and the troll’s current capital, but we would have to build it and defend it at the same time. Do we have the resources to accomplish such a feat?” Tyran answered before Tholin could get a word in edge-wise, “Yes, I believe we do. So far, my people have enjoyed peace the longest, this conflict with the trolls barely affects us, so naturally there is anger towards the trolls now that they’ve killed two of our best in one encounter. These orc creatures have also reached the ears of my people, and they wish to avenge the losses at Mithrim, and every other settlement that has been attacked. If I can get my fellow lords and rulers of the other cities to agree, I could create an armada of our race to defend this city whilst your peoples construct it. We could even help build it when we aren’t holding off an attack.” Tholin, who had at first seemed outraged at the idea of a new city so close to one of his own, now spoke, “Who would rule this city Tyran? Dragons? Elves? Dwarves? The ownership and closeness to my lands in particular could put a strain on our alliance.” “It would be a city ruled by its’ inhabitants. Large enough to house hundreds of my own kind, yet also able to support large amounts of dwarves and elves as well. We could set up a council comprised of our three races, and any others who may join our accord in the future to rule over it in times of peace. If we do this however, neither one of us will have control over it. Not entirely. But I believe it could be a shining beacon of unity between this alliance if all three of our races could live together in peace.” Tyran replied. “A city split in three…” Lorian said, speaking his thoughts aloud, “Such a place could produce incredible knowledge, weapons, armor, armies, culture, you name it. We would be invulnerable, the most powerful combined force this world has ever seen…I agree to your proposal Tyran. What say you Tholin?” The dragon and the elf looked to the dwarf king, and the dwarf king answered, “As long as the dragons be guardin’ our backs while we build this city, I agree as well. What shall we call this place?” Tyran spoke up now, “I propose it be called Dravaldar, any objections?” The other two shook their heads back and forth. “Right than,” Tyran continued, “As soon as I speak with my counterparts in the other cities about building an armada, and sending scouts to find the trolls, I will inform you both so you may send builders. You will be riding back to your own homes in your prey-animal drawn carriages, as I have matters to discuss with mine offspring. Mating season begins tomorrow, and I think it best if mortals such as you were not here when it starts. As rational as my kind is, during the mating season our minds become hazy and clouded, unless we already have offspring. Until next we meet my friends, I hope it will be in a completed Dravaldar. Dracospeed to you both.”
The elf and the dwarf bowed, and said their own farewells, and finally departed. Atop the support columns in the council chamber, was a circular perch that connected the columns together, and supported the room all at once. It was also where Alaron and Alaria had been patiently perched whilst they listened to the meeting. It was to them Tyran now spoke, “Come my hatchlings, it’s time I told you exactly what is going to happen to you tomorrow.” The twins glided down the hundred feet from where they had perched, and followed their father out the council room’s door, into the grand hall, and back into their family’s cave. Once the king of Drak’ir had settled his massive form in a comfortable position, and his comparatively smaller offspring had done the same, he began to explain how the mating season worked, and what it would entail, as all male dragons do to their offspring. “You see hatchlings, mating season for dragons that have yet to have offspring are quite…wild. Tensions are high, and tempers that usually take hours of provoking to come out are on hair triggers. This is all because of the odor we emit when the time comes, Alaron, Par’oc told me you already began to produce it a few weeks back. That sometimes happens, but be glad you weren’t in the main city when it did.” “Why is that father?” Alaron queried. “You see son,” the king began again, “When the mating season comes around, and it does almost every year, the smells emitted cause dragons of the same gender to go mad with rage. Females will claw each other’s eyes out for a desirable mate, and vice versa. Killings are rare, but they do happen, and since this is your first season I urge you not to engage the older dragons. They won’t hold back just because you are my offspring, they won’t even remember fighting you until after the season has passed. Not every dragon finds a suitable partner in their first season, such things are rare indeed, but now you have a vague idea of what to expect, I have full confidence the two of you will be able to survive the next three weeks.” The twins nodded and bowed before crawling into the slightly smaller tunnels that led to their own caves, which had been carved out by themselves, with a little help from their parents. King Tyran remained in the main chamber, and sighed. He would have to contact the other leaders of their race soon, and he wanted his offspring to bear witness to that meeting as well, but he knew better than to coop two newly adult dragons in a room filled with elders during the mating season. He decided he would wait a few weeks. Since the trolls had held off their attacks completely, and no orcs had been sighted since Mithrim, he was willing to wait before daring to enact his plans.