This was a rainy and beautiful day in the northern kingdom of men. It was one of those spring showers that revitalized the land and the fragrances of flowers and trees filled the air. Here and there some open field shopper, or a traveller caught unaware in the rain, mumbled a few curses to their luck, but overall this spring rain was enjoyed by most.
Such was the case, even for King of Old Stanthas who was sitting on his throne as usual, uncaring for the diplomatic discussions and all the political fuss that took place in front of him. After all his place was only honorary, by his desire, and he long ago left his descendants to deal with such matters. The sudden rain that fell from the sky and sparkled on the perfect crystal ceiling of the Hall of Order, caught his imagination and took his thoughts many many years before, to a certain spring day, not unlike this one, when the tide of the Dragon War finally slashed against his kingdom. A sharp pain prick in his heart reminded him that this was long ago and he had made sure with his efforts and sacrifices that such a thing would not happen again… or had he?
Unlike other times of reminiscing, this small pain in his heart and thought remained, and a feeling of impeding doom begun to stir up inside him. He looked at the sky, and though no bad sign was apparent, his worries could not calm. On and on this feeling of doom grew in size and magnitude, and as a lightning sliced the sky and stroke hard on one of the palace towers, he stood up.
“Silence”, he cried out loud and clear, and everyone in the hall stood still and silent, waiting …petrified.
And then they all felt it; first a tremor and then a rumble that turned their hearts to stone and terrified them. Those that could control themselves somewhat turned their gaze to the Marble King, for hope, for guidance. He stood there, towering all, regal and strong as ever, but if anyone would have been close enough they would have seen the tears forming in his eyes.
