Story: There were three kingdoms that helped to make the overall population around the large continent. Vyris (Vih-Rihs) presided around the mountainous terrain, their skills in forging armor and weapons. Dalminia (Dahl-Mih-Nea) presided over the area around the rivers and oceans, making them ideal for farming and fishing. Then there was Tamris (Tahm-Rihs), whose seclusion to much of nature made them corrupt to a very dark power. For years, Dalminia and Vyris waged war against the slightly larger Tamris, but on the horizon, amid a festival starting today, things were about to change.
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The Iron Works Festival was held annually in the Kingdom of Vyris, a land mostly populated by Humans and Dwarves alike. Elves and other races usually dwelled there as well, but it were the two former figures that kept such a place rooted firmly on various armors, weapons and other items. Because they dwelled in the mountains, snow fell on almost every occasion, but the commoners were used to such an atmosphere. In this case, as various farmers and other merchants from across the continent came forth to sell their products in the Market square, a slightly youthful male ran with friends without a care of catching a cold. In this case, he was well built for his age, wearing a thin, long sleeve white shirt. Judging by the design, he was either a knight or even full royalty itself. The latter was true as he was the Prince. Still, he ran with friends without a care in the world, almost as if he was oblivious to being among low lives as his mother put it. He never saw such threats and quite frankly, he could hold his own given that he was trained to be a soldier and knight if not anything more. It made him fearless in a sense, but often times haughty.
Honor preceded it all mostly however. In this particular case, that was more than true. It wasn't him nor his human and dwarf friend who caused one of the farmer’s fruits to come rolling down from them running past. The load was just quite heavy and regardless of if they played a role in the matter or not, it was Austjrn or Austen as most had trouble referring to his royal name, who came to the aid. He picked up some of the large fruit into his hefty arms, walking towards the figure with a honest smile.
“I think these might me yours,” he stated, knowing good and well they were.
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The Iron Works Festival was held annually in the Kingdom of Vyris, a land mostly populated by Humans and Dwarves alike. Elves and other races usually dwelled there as well, but it were the two former figures that kept such a place rooted firmly on various armors, weapons and other items. Because they dwelled in the mountains, snow fell on almost every occasion, but the commoners were used to such an atmosphere. In this case, as various farmers and other merchants from across the continent came forth to sell their products in the Market square, a slightly youthful male ran with friends without a care of catching a cold. In this case, he was well built for his age, wearing a thin, long sleeve white shirt. Judging by the design, he was either a knight or even full royalty itself. The latter was true as he was the Prince. Still, he ran with friends without a care in the world, almost as if he was oblivious to being among low lives as his mother put it. He never saw such threats and quite frankly, he could hold his own given that he was trained to be a soldier and knight if not anything more. It made him fearless in a sense, but often times haughty.
Honor preceded it all mostly however. In this particular case, that was more than true. It wasn't him nor his human and dwarf friend who caused one of the farmer’s fruits to come rolling down from them running past. The load was just quite heavy and regardless of if they played a role in the matter or not, it was Austjrn or Austen as most had trouble referring to his royal name, who came to the aid. He picked up some of the large fruit into his hefty arms, walking towards the figure with a honest smile.
“I think these might me yours,” he stated, knowing good and well they were.