reading sample:

The flight of the owl

It was a muggy day, with the sun beating down mercilessly on the Dravenfels council house, when the thirteen guilds of Drachan gathered there for a meeting. The most majestic building of that nation was enthroned in the middle of the capital on the eponymous mountain above all roofs. Its dark masonry was covered by expertly applied lime plaster, which in turn was decorated with numerous paintings. It was fair to say that the House of Councilors was the most stately building in the entire capital, despite the numerous magnificent mansions in the South Quarter, the godly cathedral in the Living Quarter, or the devout university in the Southwest Residential Quarter. Not least because of the artistic work on the facades, on which various generations of artists had immortalized themselves, this masterpiece of architecture was the secret ruler of the Dravenfelses.

Bright rays of sunlight streamed through the glass domed roof of the main building into the hall used by the city's guilds for meetings. The bright light made the marble floor, in which the circles of magic had been set in a mosaic with black rubble stone, almost glow. Aside from the magnificent mosaic, there were also exactly thirty-nine chairs that provided the elected guild representatives with seating in the hall for meetings. Each of the thirteen guilds was entitled to three seats there for representatives of their cause. Behind each group of chairs hung a banner attached to an iron pole. These panels of fabric showed stylized representations of everyday objects. Among the symbols were hammers, sickles, scythes, books and many more.

Only above the chairs, which stood opposite the entrance gate behind a magnificent stone marble desk, was another coat of arms emblazoned. The coat of arms showed all symbols distributed in the room. They formed the border of a turquoise square field that was crossed diagonally by an orange line. Below that you could see an orange triangle with an image of a pen. The symbols of the gods: the fire of Ritor, Lirinia's wave, the mountains of Eradras and Win'Dara's gust of wind were clearly visible outside of the actual coat of arms. Only the symbol of the goddess of time, the sun, had been blackened out, and with good reason. After all, their worship was strictly forbidden both in the capital and in any other. They just didn't want to give the great traitor a foot of space on Drachan.

Beside these three special chairs, reserved for the People's Guild, three huge cavities had been left in the walls, in which lay gigantic lizards such as were known in the old world only from old legends.

Gradually, the hall filled with members of the various [groups], including the Guild of Hunger, the Guild of Protection, the Priests of Ritor, and many more, as more and more Council members came chatting to one another, now and then silently in the room. They all resembled the race of humans, with some differences. Some of them had scaly skin, while others had small horns on their foreheads. Still others had a small scaly tail that whipped wildly through the air.

Finally everyone had entered the hall and silence returned. No one dared speak a word unless asked. It was a matter of courtesy to remain silent in this honorable building. At least once you've taken your seat, you agreed to remain silent until called out by the Councilor from the People's Guild.

At first the session turned out to be as tiring as most sessions. There was a bit of bickering, discussion and commenting, but most of it was talking.

It was chaired by an elderly, dark-skinned man who sat directly under the banner in the center. He alone called up individual speakers or opened up new subject areas, as was his due as chairman of the guild council. The huge lizards kept mostly covered. Every now and then one of them would raise their head, but they stayed out of the guild's discussions.

Half the day had already passed when the chairman gave the guild of priests Lirinias the right to speak. The addressed priestess thanked the board in a friendly manner before she asked an almost hooded figure to her right to deliver a report. The tall woman was presented as Almina from the Varina. She herself is a vain in the service of the living and thus a significant member of Drairi society. As Vahnin, the woman herself was above the high priests of Lirinia because they were considered the direct arm of the goddess of life.

The woman who now stepped into the middle of the room was an exception even among these strange creatures. On her body she wore dark red leather clothing which, while resembling armor in appearance, probably offered little protection. Between the ornate leatherwork, a magnificent one-handed sword could be seen on her belt. It lacked ornament and frills, but that didn't make the weapon any less impressive, for where ornamentation was lacking here, the sword possessed a simple elegance. In addition, the trained eye recognized climbing hooks, a rope and other utensils that were useful in the wilderness.

Behind her, a scaly black tail whipped aimlessly through the air, and the woman's hands resembled more claws than fingers. Two leathery wings the size of a man protruded from the Vahnin's back.

Her long black hair was tied in a tight ponytail, which was the fashion of the time. Where this fashion came from no one could say, but it had stubbornly crept into Drairi society in recent months. Some travelers claimed that this way of tying hair came from the old world, but even if they agreed, no one would admit it. After all, one was here in Dravenfels, better than the humans and Leorans of the continents to the north.

Two horns stuck out from between her hair above her forehead. The filigree face, which was completely crossed diagonally by a deep scar, was only half recognizable. A black shawl covered the other half of her face beneath her purple glowing eyes.

Stepping between the council members, the Vahnin pulled the cloth shawl down just enough to show her entire face. With a serious voice she now began her report. It was about a small group of people, actually nothing worth mentioning, stranded on the coast of Katria a few days ago. You don't have to expect anything from them, let alone a threat. They didn't do anything conspicuous, or at least nothing that the Vahnin would call conspicuous. They were obviously preparing for a longer stay, which is not surprising given the condition of their ship. Apparently it had smashed on the reefs off the South Island, for it had been split in two.

While the Vahnin wondered how the sailors had made it to Katrien, that was a question for later times.

These people were led by a dark-skinned woman who bore the name Sunja Wirbelwind. She at least gave the orders on the North Island.

However, the newcomers did not yet dare to venture into the jungle. The Vahnin explained that it almost seemed as if they were afraid of this harmless grove. In their estimation, it was possible that the ancient world no longer knew such regions, but that was only speculation. As a result, they had not yet discovered the deserted Temple of the Wrathful. However, according to the Vahnin, it was only a matter of time before they would become bolder or their small company of around one hundred and eighty people would become stable enough for an expedition to become necessary. She could not provide any evidence for this theory.

Finally, she ended her presentation by repeating that the stranded people posed no danger. Ultimately, that's why the Vahnin went on this reconnaissance mission.

One or two council members each came forward independently from the Guild of Help and the Guild of Knowledge. It was important to them, as they told the council one after the other, to reach out to people with an outstretched hand. In their opinion, no one should be alone in the hour of need.

In addition, people finally wanted to learn more than the daring reports of the scouts and traders about the old world. After all, almost three thousand years had passed since the last real contact with the continents of Winor'Wahna and Rinoran

As a result, the members of the Guild of Trade officially complained to the head of the council. It categorically rejects any allegations of inaccuracy in its own reports. On top of that, they didn't want to put up with such slander. Trade relations with the Kal'Iri were well maintained. It's not the guild members' fault if the outcasts don't provide useful information. In addition, a trade order to the Old World is extremely dangerous, which explains their low frequency.

In reply, the man from the Guild of Aid who had just spoken waved him off. The Guild would not have accused anyone, merely stating facts. Even the valued Council colleague could not dismiss the lack of information about those forgotten places in the north.

At this heated moment, the head of one of the mighty lizards jerked up. Black scales covered her body except for a broad stripe on her head. This had been snow-white since she was born. Blue glowing eyes gleamed in the creature's mighty skull and she sported quite a few horns on the back of her head. The rest of her body still rested relaxed on the surprisingly cool floor of the hall. In the position where one would normally assume the front legs to be, they possessed gigantic wings which, when spread out, would certainly far exceed their own size. Relatively small claws could be seen at the crooks of her wings, with which she was able to climb or grab things.

Finnja, the frost breath of the south wind, looked at Streng first to one guild, then to the other. With a melodious voice that one would not have credited the being with, she rebuked the guilds.

They should debate peacefully and not engage in unjustified bickering. Her fellow male lizards didn't interfere, however.

Now it was up to the Guild of Protection to throw in a suggestion. In her opinion, people should be expelled. They should be chased away root and branch. Once they settled down, Katrien and perhaps all of Drachan would be gone. According to the council member, it was only a matter of time. Another guild member replied that people should be captured much sooner. If they escape, it could reveal Drachan's position. This would endanger the entire population.

From among the magicians who belonged to the Guild of the Word, a young woman suggested studying humans. About not much information was lost as little as about the Old World.

Another disagreed with that mage vehemently. He suggested continuing along the path taken after the first cataclysm, in the early days of the world, when the Leoran Empire was at its peak. According to this guild member, the Old World had nothing to offer Drachan that the islands didn't have. Trading with the outcasts is also not necessary, because the obsidian could also be mined in Siragya or in front of Katrien on the archipelago in the south. Should they starve to death on the South Island, who cares.

Meanwhile, the guild of priests of Ritor overturned the proposal to capture the humans. In short, a hopeless argument ensued. No one wanted to take even one step toward the other.

The large lizard on Finnja's right slowly raised its massive skull. Its scarlet scales were largely covered by metal armor. A dark blue helmet sat on his head, from which only his glowing eyes shone. Across the recognizable lower jaw, there were many narrow scars on which the scales were missing. Likewise, the back and claws were protected by a dark blue metal. On each of the four mighty clawed [paws] sat an armor of the same kind. Only the wings and the long tail, which ended in a spiked club, had no armor.

The voice of the warrior Aik, the vengeance of the east wind, rumbled as he, following his mate Finnja, spoke up to rebuke the Drairi as well. But unlike her, there was open anger in his harsh words against the guilds. Finnja then reared up and tried to calm down at least Aik, although he was in an extreme rage. Aik's angry accusations against the foolish guilds soon silenced them.

Then the third of the lizards looked at Vahnin, who was still standing in the middle of the hall. Reynir, the brother of the west wind, studied the servant of Lirinia for a moment. His head, covered by an additional skull plate, looked all the more threatening in the bright light of the sun. The white bone of its numerous horns almost reflected the rays. In contrast, the dark green scales covering the rest of his slender body had a calming effect on the spirit. Like Aik, he stood on four strong legs, but he preferred not to wear unnecessary armor. Neither the wings nor the tail he intended to protect additionally, because only strong magic could penetrate the scales of his kind. No weapon of worldly existence could break them.

His raspy voice echoed around the council chamber as he continued to straighten. Reynir asked the Vahnin if she thought the strangers could pose a threat. Shaking their heads and raising an eyebrow in suspicion, they said no, noting that, as she said, it was only a matter of time before humans ventured into the jungle.

He nodded his thanks to the woman, then turned to the entire council. It is not urgent to make a decision. Perhaps they should wait a little longer before acting hastily. At these words, the previous speaker from the Guild of Protection jumped up in anger. Accusingly, he accused the Council of Guilds of foolish inaction. People have waited far too long to take revenge on people for the deeds they did to their own ancestors. Now is the time to act, not wait.

Again an eloquent battle broke out between the guilds. Chairs were shuffled among many of the council members who jumped up energetically, hair being tossed and angry speeches being made. The wild commotion gripped everyone in the room, for none but the lizards and the vain didn't succumb to the heated discourse.

Suddenly there was a monstrous roar, followed by dead silence. Finnja stood upright with half spread wings a few steps in the room. She shook her head in disgust at the domed roof.

She let the silence control the room for a moment before disappointing the guilds, lecturing: "You may seem wise, but you are children in the eyes of the gods and in mine. Too clumsy to be united, you stab each other in the back at the first possible opportunity. You are like boys and like girls.

It disgusts me to see you like this. You scream clamor and murder at your own brothers, but you can't come to a decision. Call me when you grow up.”

After an evil glare that met everyone in the room, she stomped out of the great entrance portal, which was hastily opened by the Dravengarde, into the blazing sun. She flapped her wings a little too dramatically before taking to the air and quickly flying away.