MythyDW
Five Thousand Club
The world of Meldena had been at war for a long time. Ever since the Kingsmen and Dragonkin had discovered one another, they had been fighting. Be it xenophobia, cultural differences, or just human nature, the two groups had never seen eye to eye. And ever since they met, they had been at a stalemate. Neither magic nor technology had gained a step up. Eventually, the groups got tired. People from both sides began to emigrate. But such a prospect was still dangerous. Scars were still healing and skirmishes broke out often.
That is when the Council of Dragons and the King of Rhoda decided that enough was enough. The King and Voice of the Council had arranged a meeting in a neutral spot, an island between the two continents which had been settled by both groups. A three-day event was set to end with the signing of an official peace treaty. On the first day, the King and his guard arrived by royal airship (something only afforded to the king), as had the Voice and his entourage. On the second day, the talks had begun. People of all walks of life from both cultures had been invited to attend, and the people of the island were honored to play host.
It was now the third day
Markos was one of those who had been brought to the island at the personal request of the king. Despite the knowledge that Prosun was one of a kind, not ready to be replicated, the king had thought an offering of such a machine would be a suitable tribute.
The dragonkin had been intrigued, but sensed the bond between Prosun and Markos ran deeper than made obvious. Either way, the showing of the advance was enough for them — most of this was for show, anyway. The truth was that the treaty would be signed with little, if any, concessions from either side. The fighting would finally end.
"Well... nothing left to do except wait," Markos said to no one in particular as he wandered the grounds of the village. It would be an odd sight, even for those who were accustomed to automata. Normally one wouldn't be looking around as Prosun would, as every other automaton was build to receive and follow orders.
That is when the Council of Dragons and the King of Rhoda decided that enough was enough. The King and Voice of the Council had arranged a meeting in a neutral spot, an island between the two continents which had been settled by both groups. A three-day event was set to end with the signing of an official peace treaty. On the first day, the King and his guard arrived by royal airship (something only afforded to the king), as had the Voice and his entourage. On the second day, the talks had begun. People of all walks of life from both cultures had been invited to attend, and the people of the island were honored to play host.
It was now the third day
Markos was one of those who had been brought to the island at the personal request of the king. Despite the knowledge that Prosun was one of a kind, not ready to be replicated, the king had thought an offering of such a machine would be a suitable tribute.
The dragonkin had been intrigued, but sensed the bond between Prosun and Markos ran deeper than made obvious. Either way, the showing of the advance was enough for them — most of this was for show, anyway. The truth was that the treaty would be signed with little, if any, concessions from either side. The fighting would finally end.
"Well... nothing left to do except wait," Markos said to no one in particular as he wandered the grounds of the village. It would be an odd sight, even for those who were accustomed to automata. Normally one wouldn't be looking around as Prosun would, as every other automaton was build to receive and follow orders.