A Realm By Fire Seeded
Ninth Day of the Twelfth Month 293 AC
The Emirate of Kelasi is a place long lost to the realm of its birth, a place of fire floating in the deepest of seas. Pumice in every color lies strewn among the trade currents, from grey so dark it is almost black, to soft cream to pale stone shot through with shimmering bands of green and blue where the palaces of the highborn and rich rest. As in most of the marid domains the latter categories are often one and the same, there is no stigma for buying a title outright with coin, though the costs are high enough that new noble Houses are not lightly founded.
Beyond the souks, markets and the towers sheathed in gleaming nacre is the Heart of Kela, greatest of the fragments fallen here during the Sundering of the Spheres and the only one that remembers the place of its forging. It too burns orange between the fissures, casting a forge-fire light over the whole of the realm like the stillborn star of Galzerai's domain, but where that had been tumultuous and untamed, its face forever cracking and reforming with rivers of flame, this had been channeled through the work of arcane marks and cunning enchantment to feed the forges bellow.
Upon the island's crest, like a crown upon a burning brow, rests the palace of Emir Ramsin, though perhaps fortress might fit the name more than palace. The high towers and arching bridges at its heart remind one of Vialesk under its crystal dome, but all around it are walls of native pumice shot through with veins of adamantine and wards that draw upon the fires below, a shield against any army that might threaten the realm, or any of the dragon lords common to these waters, though they would make a poor weapon indeed against you.
After some thought you choose remain in human form so as not to raise any suspicions before you even come before the throne of the emir, presenting instead to the officer asking for your business in the realm documents from Vialesk and Mardja. While the wheels of state may not turn quite as swiftly as they may have done when presented with the physical reality of a dragon's form, the testified fact that you brokered the Concordant of Sky and Stone is enough to make them turn swiftly enough.
You and Lya are in due time escorted to the place, through guarded gates and under the gaze of watchful towers, until you come at last to a garden though not quite of the sort you had seen in Vialesk. You see here coral and sea urchins, yes, but also strange pale worms that with heads like blood-red lilies that drink in the fumes from the forges below.
Amidst this odd garden, which Lya's fingers twitch to pluck and study, Emir Ramsin sits enthroned upon a throne bedecked in adamantine and rubies, his beard white as sea foam and eyes brighter than any of the gems sown into his robes. "I have heard many rumors of late of the Garden's gates opening, but little from those who have seen the truth of it with their own eyes. It seems that fate has delivered upon me an unexpected gift..." and one he does not trust, you catch in spire of the skill with which the emir guards his tone and face. "Speak then and be recognized, oh lord of distant realms."
How do you greet Emir Ramsin and deliver the message you have been tasked with carrying?
[] Sympathetically, for his children prisoners of a relentless foe
[] In a neutral manner, you are merely doing a small service that it might hopefully aid in peace, or at least a ceasefire so that more might turn their attention to common foes in the depths
[] Write in
OOC: A short update again, but it's the nature of the break points around here, there are a lot of decisions to be taken.