Story Post 1 (Hereby abbreviated SP#)
 
  

Author's Note: 

Hello! This is my first story post which is open to the public. Please enjoy! 

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“My lord!” a guard stumbled into the Elf King’s throne room, bowing briefly before stepping up to the base of the woven-wood throne. 

“What is it?” The King asked gently upon seeing the guard’s distress.

“The Dragon Queen has sent a messenger to our door. He demands an audience.”

The King stood, his green silk robe flowing like water from the chair as he descended to the floor. He retrieved his wooden crown, threaded with living flowers, from its pedestal next to the throne and placed it on his head. His escort, four elves armed with swords, followed him to the doors of the elven castle. A trail of elves followed behind; it was unusual to have a guest so late in the evening—the sun had long hidden itself behind the mountains.

Sitting at the base of the knotted roots that formed the stairway to the castle was an old dragon known well by most of the elves in this kingdom. His name was Jorne, and his scales were stone grey with flecks of blue in just the right light. He had sharp blue eyes and enormous black claws. His wings were tucked behind his back, and they would rustle as the dragon shifted in place, waiting for the Elf King. 

“Jorne, my old friend! It is wonderful to see you.” The King greeted when he saw the dragon. His escort kept close as he went down the stairs, while his subjects crowded in front of the door too curious to stay inside. The King stood at the dragon’s feet and both bowed their heads.

“I wish I could share your sentiment, Vulair. But I am the bearer of bad news. Our council met last night and our Queen has decided to go to war. The council believes that the culprit could only have been an elf, and since the Queen has seen no satisfactory effort on the part of the elves to recover her daughter, she easily swayed the council.

“Vulair, you must know that she did not send me to inform you of this decision. I am here to warn you, old friend, because I am sad to see this day.” The old dragon let out a heavy breath of remorse.

“As am I.” The Elf King thought over his words, before saying, “As I have told your Queen, no elf would steal a dragon egg and no elf has. It is unfortunate that she has misinterpreted our efforts as inaction. I have sent scout out across the realms in search of the kidnapper. They have yet to return, and I have been too busy with dwarven politics of late to send word to your queen. 

“Have a safe return, Jorne. And thank you. Your urgency has protected my people.”

The King bowed again, and Jorne followed suit before taking off into the night. The King watched him go before uttering to his nearest guard,

“Tryn, prepare our people for war.”

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Author's Note:

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