Part I - A Dynasty Faded
No one knows where he goes. Some of the older gentry of the marketplace
seem to agree that he is getting into trouble somewhere. "Not the
acts of a future hymarian," they say. He should be learning the protocol
of a prymarian of the Atracian Dynasty. So that, when it comes time for
him to rule, he can continue the tradition established by his hymarian
father, Xylanthees the Great, and rule all of Atracia to another twenty
cycles of peace. However, the banter about Kreelos is short-lived, as
people dont resort to petty gossip for too long. Still, no one is
quite sure where young Kreelos goes.
Kreelos Urandees has always been the pride of his father. Ten cycles
in age with strong roots of upbringing and good looks. An above-average
build and height make him the envy of all his peers. His hair is brown
and unruly, the sign of a boy on the run, unwilling to sit still. His
clothes are simple, yet practical very improper for the dress of
a prymarian. He considers himself different than others with his destiny
line a young man with his own set of morals and ethics very different
from his father. He very much wants to be like him, but in a different
way. He thinks one should never be satisfied with possessions or accomplishments.
His father discourages this philosophy insisting the dynasty's conservative
approach is best. War hasnt been seen in these parts cycles, but
his father insists they should be ready in any event.
Kreelos loves his father dearly, but hates the dignified protocol that
is forced upon him the lavish dress, the numerous royal functions,
and the time-honored ceremonies that seem to creep up at every turn. To
him, these things show a careless apathy to who or whatever may lie around
them waiting for a chance to reap the benefits of their prosperity. It
may seem somewhat paranoid, but Kreelos feels it necessary. He constantly
grapples with the fact that there could be remote dynasties eyeing Atracia
as their next accolade. Jealousy stirs unrest. Somedey the journeys of
these peoples could bring them to Atracia. Aside from his father
philosophy, he loves him and his mother very much todey he is out
to make that clear.
A varam from the wind port of Jalrain, a morning's walk from Cragenheim
Palace, Kreelos sits among a crowded area of vines, trees, and thicket.
His face shows that of contemplation, while the path of his vision suggests
the dreams of a far-off place and time.
This dey, he has been up in the hills for far longer than usual. Dark
clouds creep over the mountain range of Stormcrest. He has to be careful;
the rains in this region have strange and sometimes mysterious properties.
Still, the sun remains warm upon his eyelids, coaxing him to stay.
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