Prelude
She sat upon her beautiful jeweled throne. She knew this was where her legacy would begin. This is where it would start, she thought, where it would focus.
She ordered her slaves to lower her, while on her throne, to settle on the highest peak of the burnt, molten mass. She was a striking thing, yet beautiful by any standards. She wore a strong jaw which complemented her beautiful crimson eyes. They were crimson now only due to the night. Her elven lineage provided her with the luxury of infravision.
She was half-elven, half-Draknee, and extreme rarity in the world of Faerun. She was the queen of the Draknee, a race whose numbers had dwindled over the last century, and, to the proud queen's utmost contempt, had become nearly a forgotten race, a lost thought amid the minds of scholars.
"Queen Veh?" said one particularly revolting draknee, quickly snapping her out of her contemplations. She liked being called Veh, although this was not her name, it was a word of malevolence and power among the Draknee tounge.
With a stare as peircing as a dagger's tip, she leered at the slave who had just spoken to her. He was a massive brute, who's silhouette alone would make a strong man crumble. He had massive muscular legs and arms, each almost a foot in width. He had the standard soot-stained breeches given to all Draknee slaves, which were each specially torn at the ankle to accomodate the clawed fourth toe which hung firmly from his scaled ankle. His feet and hands each had four digits. As all Draknees, this one had a sort of triangular head with a jutting mandible, and even purther jutting parietial. He looked at the black, volcanic ground in front of his queen with dark black orbs. He nervously licked at his imposing set of razor sharp teeth that stretched up to the small depressions which served as his ears at the sides of his head, awaiting the queens response.
"What is it?" the Draknee queen demanded, drawing a flinch from the imposing slave.
"M-My queen ... the obsidian is not solid enough to build on, a-and .. a number of us have suffered injuries from the smooth stone."
The Draknee queen stared at him for a moment longer, only to make him flinch once more, before deciding to fill him completely with fright."You, dare disturb my private contemplations, for this?"
"My queen, I will handle this minor matter," said one of the queens three, inseperable advisors who had been standing behind the throne at the highest peak of the Nerothop Mountain range, "and stop any further inquiries until you are finished with your contemplations."
"Oh thank you Dracil, I do not know what I would do without you," the queen said rather sarcastically.
Dracil bowed and hurried off past the queen, scooping up the slave still kneeling in front of the queen in her wake.
"Queen Amerigo," said another one of her advisors, a short, stumpy looking draknee with an exceedingly long parietial, "There is st-"
"Veh! It is Veh, Greco!" exclaimed the queen.
"A thousand pardons, Queen Veh, but there is still the matter of the disease which so badly struck our people on the crossing from the mainland."
"Urgh! Just deal with the diseased by throwing them into the nearest active volcano and leave me be for a moment!"
"Yes, my queen," Greco said, in a tone which openly reflected her distaste for the queen's order, than stormed off toward the trail that led back down the natural, molten fortress.
Queen Amerigo watched in pure elation as she saw her 400 strong army settling down for the night on the volcanic Nerothop mountains. This was the last of her kin, and she had worked hard to get this far, and now she would just rest atop her jewel-encrusted throne a while and contemplate all she had done, and all she would do.
Yes, Amerigo Nuggrem's legacy would start here, atop the Nerothop mountains.
She sat upon her beautiful jeweled throne. She knew this was where her legacy would begin. This is where it would start, she thought, where it would focus.
She ordered her slaves to lower her, while on her throne, to settle on the highest peak of the burnt, molten mass. She was a striking thing, yet beautiful by any standards. She wore a strong jaw which complemented her beautiful crimson eyes. They were crimson now only due to the night. Her elven lineage provided her with the luxury of infravision.
She was half-elven, half-Draknee, and extreme rarity in the world of Faerun. She was the queen of the Draknee, a race whose numbers had dwindled over the last century, and, to the proud queen's utmost contempt, had become nearly a forgotten race, a lost thought amid the minds of scholars.
"Queen Veh?" said one particularly revolting draknee, quickly snapping her out of her contemplations. She liked being called Veh, although this was not her name, it was a word of malevolence and power among the Draknee tounge.
With a stare as peircing as a dagger's tip, she leered at the slave who had just spoken to her. He was a massive brute, who's silhouette alone would make a strong man crumble. He had massive muscular legs and arms, each almost a foot in width. He had the standard soot-stained breeches given to all Draknee slaves, which were each specially torn at the ankle to accomodate the clawed fourth toe which hung firmly from his scaled ankle. His feet and hands each had four digits. As all Draknees, this one had a sort of triangular head with a jutting mandible, and even purther jutting parietial. He looked at the black, volcanic ground in front of his queen with dark black orbs. He nervously licked at his imposing set of razor sharp teeth that stretched up to the small depressions which served as his ears at the sides of his head, awaiting the queens response.
"What is it?" the Draknee queen demanded, drawing a flinch from the imposing slave.
"M-My queen ... the obsidian is not solid enough to build on, a-and .. a number of us have suffered injuries from the smooth stone."
The Draknee queen stared at him for a moment longer, only to make him flinch once more, before deciding to fill him completely with fright."You, dare disturb my private contemplations, for this?"
"My queen, I will handle this minor matter," said one of the queens three, inseperable advisors who had been standing behind the throne at the highest peak of the Nerothop Mountain range, "and stop any further inquiries until you are finished with your contemplations."
"Oh thank you Dracil, I do not know what I would do without you," the queen said rather sarcastically.
Dracil bowed and hurried off past the queen, scooping up the slave still kneeling in front of the queen in her wake.
"Queen Amerigo," said another one of her advisors, a short, stumpy looking draknee with an exceedingly long parietial, "There is st-"
"Veh! It is Veh, Greco!" exclaimed the queen.
"A thousand pardons, Queen Veh, but there is still the matter of the disease which so badly struck our people on the crossing from the mainland."
"Urgh! Just deal with the diseased by throwing them into the nearest active volcano and leave me be for a moment!"
"Yes, my queen," Greco said, in a tone which openly reflected her distaste for the queen's order, than stormed off toward the trail that led back down the natural, molten fortress.
Queen Amerigo watched in pure elation as she saw her 400 strong army settling down for the night on the volcanic Nerothop mountains. This was the last of her kin, and she had worked hard to get this far, and now she would just rest atop her jewel-encrusted throne a while and contemplate all she had done, and all she would do.
Yes, Amerigo Nuggrem's legacy would start here, atop the Nerothop mountains.