The Representative.

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Perhaps it was simply dumb luck. Citizens from the great trade port of Olasethiel to the peaceful glades of Eldeth’s Rest lived in peace, Unaware that to the north of the Great Valley lived creatures so powerful and terrifying that with a single exhale they could immolate an entire town. The few explorers that had ventured towards the mountain range outside the valley hadn’t truly grasped the danger. The dragons were inherently territorial, and inherently selfish. They hoarded wealth and hunted indiscriminately whatever had the misfortune of wandering onto their lands.

The largest of them was known as Kilthume the Wretched, an ancient black dragon who’s nature was as cruel as his power was great. Born from an egg in the nest of the great golden dragon Hadavar before him Kilthume was always the smallest of his litter, and yet his cunning allowed him to destroy his other siblings and rise to the top of the draconian heirarchy. His wings were large enough to block out the sun over a villiage, plunging it into darkness and despair. His breath was said to be hot enough to reduce the thickest armour to molten slop. He had a larger hoard than all the others of his kind, protecting it fiercely and enjoying destroying lesser dragons and taking their measly treasure for himself. Soon Kilthume’s sights turned away from other dragons. He grew idle, bored. Wishing for a new challenge. And that’s when a strange visitor came to his cave. With his hearing Kilthume could have detected a rat scurrying across the ocean of coins he hoarded, but on a windy morning a strange robed figure somehow managed to enter his caverns undetected and get as far as right in front of the sleeping dragon’s nose before Kilthume noticed and roared in rage.

“Who are you to step foot in these hallowed halls, the abode of the mightiest dragon in history? Speak you measly speck, before I destroy you I wish to hear an explanation to your idiocy…” Kilthume growled, red eyed staring at the strange figure as they casually sat and hummed a subtle tune to themselves before picking up a goblet.

“Goblets, plates… even some cutlery here. How intriguing. I would expect these items to be adorning a king’s palace. Not gathering dust on the floor of some cavern in the middle of nowhere.” The figure stated causally as they turned the goblet over in their hand, admiring it. Kilthume was mighty, but even the powerful beast had to admit that this being was unsettling. When they spoke it sounded like a thousand soft voices murmuring at once, any single presence impossible to focus on. The dragon’s slight apprehension was matched by his rage however and he roared at the top of his lungs, the figure not reacting hugely as the dragon spoke again.

“Some cavern? You insolent small thing! I’ve slain countless for lesser infractions! How dare you speak to me in such a way! Who are you?!” The dragon demanded as the figure chuckled gently, a very unsettling sound indeed. “Oh Kilthume. You won’t slay me. You won’t lay waste to me with your fire, as mighty as it may be. I’m here with an opportunity for a capable individual like you, oh mighty dragon.” The figure stated before standing up and looking up at the mighty beast, no eyes or features of any kind visible thanks to the hood. And yet Kilthume could feel the figure staring at him. Staring into his soul.

Before the dragon could speak again the figure cleared it’s throat and continued. “I represent something more fearsome and cruel than even a dragon. Something hungrier. Something more dangerous. Something that lays waste to landscapes. Drains rivers. Burns forests. Tears down villages and cares not for the screams of it’s victims… a business.” They chuckled before continuing. “I know your kind are aware of the valley to the south, I know you haven’t gone there. Why would you? All you need is here isn’t it? It’s how your kind have survived so long unopposed. The apex predators of the north. The fearsome beasts of ruin….and you Kilthume? You are the mightiest of all no? The Sun. That’s what the lesser dragons call you. Your breath the hottest, scales the toughest, hoard the largest. And yet, you are unsatisfied no?”

Kilthume stared at the figure, his beastial instincts telling him to be… afraid. It’s strange. Nothing so small had ever scared the mighty dragon before. “What does it matter to you? You talk about me as if you know me. As if you’ve met me before.” The dragon growled, the figure chuckling again. “Questions questions questions. All too unimportant and convoluted to explore currently. What is important right now is that, and I don’t mean to sound mean. But nobody cares. Nobody of note knows you exist outside of dragon kind and myself. You’re nothing but a minor footnote in the history of the realm. A silly lizard who was born in a cave, grew up in caves and will die alone in a cave.”

“HOW DARE YOU!” Kilthume roared, loud enough to shake the entire cavern, stalactites falling from it’s roof and crashing to the ground around him, slamming into the pile of gold around him, causing it to shift. The figure however did not loose their footing. It was as if they didn’t stand on the ground at all. After the outburst they spoke again, their voice clear. Calm. As if the roar didn’t happen at all. “Now now. I wouldn’t bring up your problem if I wasn’t here with a solution. That wouldn’t be constructive would it? What I’m here to offer can provide you with what I know you want. Notoriety. Fear. Bards will sing songs of your tyranny and power. Clerics will dedicate prayers to you. The strongest knights will tremble when they hear your name uttered around their campfires. You’d go from the strongest dragon in your region, to the most legendary dragon in history. You’d be the greatest. Greater than even your father…”

Kilthume glares at the figure with rage in his eyes. The dragon felt insulted. Demeaned. Humiliated by this being’s lack of fear. And yet… The things it spoke of. Dragons have always been inherintely egotistical. Believing they are the strongest. The smartest. The greatest. And a dragon hadn’t been spoken about the way Kilthume had been offered in a long long time. Maybe ever. Despite the uncomfortable aura the being exuded. Well, Dragons will be Dragons.

“I’m listening. Speak.” The dragon mutters. The figure nods slightly before sitting on the arm of a large golden statue which lays in it’s side. “I represent a group. The Oak Monarch Corporation. And we believe in progress above all. We know why you dragons don’t venture south. Your hoards of gold are too valuable to leave behind. So… We want to offer your hoard protection. And in return you do something for us. We’ll have an army here tomorrow, full of terrifyingly powerful individuals. People capable of fighting off anybody who would try to take your gold. Your gold will be safe, oh mighty Kilthume.” The figure said gently before it’s voice suddenly turned harsher, more guttural.

“All you need to do in return is wipe the city of Arnos Klave off the map. Reduce it’s buildings to rubble, it’s people to ash. Burn it all down. Every last remnant that it ever existed. You’ll recognise it from it’s location. Near a huge lake where the vegetation growing it in release a powder that turns the very water yellow. Though when you’re done, I expect it’ll be red.” The guttural voices growled before the figure straightened a bit and it’s voices return more to normal, a light hearted tone. “Or orange maybe, if the two colours mix. Do this for us and we shall make sure you live on in legend. And we’ll pay you most handsomely. Your hoard will grow tenfold.”

Kilthume kept staring before speaking up. “How can I trust your words creature? How do I know you are telling me the truth about who you are? What you are? How do I know any of this is honest? That you aren’t some fiend attempting to trick me?”

The figure didn’t react at first, only sighing and standing up, turning away. “Don’t trust me if you don’t want to my friend. But buisness relationships are built on trust. And if you aren’t willing to trust me? Then I’ll take my business elsewhere. Which direction is Odvolak’s cave? He’s second fiddle around here right?” They asked softly, letting the question sit, hover in the awkward air before Kilthume spoke again. This chance is too great to let slip. And if it was a trick? Who could possibly harm him? He’s Kilthume! The mightiest dragon!

“Why do you want that city destroyed? Why so thoroughly?” Kilthume asked, the figure chuckling gently in response. “It’s against company policy to divulge classified information. But hey, work yourself up the ladder and maybe you’ll be privy to such stuff one day. Until then? Well… We’ll be in touch. Thank you for your buisness. We won’t let you down, Kilthume…” The figure concluded before continuing to walk, heading out of the cavern. Kilthume watched them go, no idea what to say now. No idea what to do. But having a feeling that despite the allure of the deal, the dragon had just made a mistake. A mistake with dire consequences for the entire region. Not just north of the valley, but for the whole realm. One thing was for sure though. There were about to be dragons in the valley, weather the valley was ready or not.