Legend of Ransera

Glade 31, 123

It was the thirty-first day of spring in Ecith, and the world was slightly improved this season, for the stars had returned to the sky, and the city was in a bit more of an enlivened mood than seasons past. The effects of the Eclipse had been massive on the world, and the Commonwealth was no different. Many lives had been lost, villages still left disconnected, families broken. But it seemed that there were heroes out there in the world, solving this problem.

Today, as every tenth day in Ecith, was the meeting of the Senate. As such, the steps of Jarkor's Tail were incredibly busy as large swaths of the Dratheran population were climbing to the peak. On the climb, many friendly debates were being cast back and forth, as was an informal tradition of the young capital city. Politics and law were popular points of discussion among the well read and well versed people of the Commonwealth, and many used this climb to sharpen their skills with one another, and all were held in good faith.

After all, debate devolving into violence never went well for the devolved.

At the top of the stairs, the air was thinner, leaving the weakest of bodied people short of breath, if they could even make the many hours long climb in the first place. Here at the peak, stood four beautiful, massive buildings, carved from the natural, pointy spires of this lonely mountain. From where the stairs exited into a landing, the northern building was Raxen's temple, facing out over the peak where Raxen launched his assault against the blasts of the Sundering, taking the brunt of the damage himself in order to save more of the continent. Off to the south, Galetira's mighty temple, looking into the past and future of the continent, the lands the Orkhan once held and hoped to reclaim once more. Unseen from this vantage, on the eastern edge, Syren's musical temple, perched there, to spread the sound of her songs throughout the land.

And dead center, the tallest and most beautiful of the buildings was the Senate itself. It's doors, standing tall enough and wide enough that even a Greatwyrm might be able to fit through, were flooded as people walked through. It was a large arena like interior, a central stage lacking any ornament or decor, a simple raised platform. Seats ringed around the arena and seemed to stretch infinitely, for they did. The Senate would grow as large as needed so all who wished to participate in the process would have a place. The seats closest to the ring were all reserved for Senators.

There was no uniformity among the adornment of the Senators. Many wore the sheer and bare robes common in Ecith, others preferring hunting skins, combat clothing, and so on. The expectation of Senators was not one of conformity of body, but rather keeping the focus on the minds and hearts that would debate here. A handful of the village chieftains could be spotted, their Relics slung over backs or hanging in sheathes, radiating power and awe.

The doors would stay open until precisely the 13th hour of the day, at which time they would close and seal. When that happened, they would not reopen until the Senate convening was concluded. And while the doors were sealed, time would not pass for those inside, save for the single allotted hour given. So the debates inside could take days, weeks, seasons on rare occasions, but when the doors opened, it would be the 14th hour of the day everyone entered.

And so the wheels of the Commonwealth would turn.

It was still several minutes until the doors would seal, and the meeting would begin.