Thread:ChazmanianDevil/@comment-26210095-20160823225610/@comment-26210095-20160825173538

The red light of the dragonfire was seen by the southernmost watchtowers of the Ironfists. The messsage was sent swiftly to the proud city of Mazar-Uzbal, where the Red King sat on his golden throne under the mountain.

"My Lord, the Dragon has slaughtered the Stonefoots like a wolf among sheep. Our sentries report she has turned south, towards the Blacklocks."

Runi VI "the Great", raised his head. Upon his head was the golden-red crown of the Ironfists, shaped like the mountain itself. Runi was a great warrior, but was nearing the end of his life. He was old, craggy, and clothed in red-gold, like the mountain itself.

Beside Runi, was his young heir, Baldur Blackiron. A young warrior-prince in his prime.

Runi thought on this news. "The Blacklocks are already dead. There are holes beneath holes in this mountain... places we can fortify. Yes... we must move the gold further underground and seal the gate."

Baldur, as always, learned to keep his mouth silent. There were always rumors that his father was "going mad". He at first thought them nothing but that, rumors. Now, he was not so sure.

"Your will be done, father."

The Great Gate was closed. Now all they could do was wait.

(Please narrate the Dragon)