“When one talks about a Royal Palace, the prevalent vision in the human lands would be that of a foreboding, grand building, a monument to opulence and luxury, where only those of high status could ever tread. A place where a commoner has no business setting foot to.
Amongst the other races, their take differed greatly. This was especially so amongst the dwarves, who generally just viewed their Royal Palaces more as a place where their Royals lived and little more. The castle built within the Knallgant Grand Citadel probably looked the most similar to what a human might expect from a Royal Palace, built as it was at the top of a mountain where it overlooked the Kingdom.
On the other hand, the Glass Citadel of Al-Hassid was renowned partly as a tourist attraction, even though the Caliph and their family also called it their abode. They simply saw no reason why they shouldn’t use the unique Citadel’s fame to earn money as well.
The Royal Palace Down Under was probably the most modest out of the three palaces of the dwarven realms, only really discernable from other buildings in the city by its size. A practical people, the Dwarves generally eschewed superfluous opulence and luxury. What they used to display their wealth and influence tends to be things like armors and weapons instead.” - Leigh Wainwrought, Sociology Student in the Levain Institute of Higher Learning.
Contrary to what most expected when they heard the words “Royal Palace”, the one where the Royal Family of the Kingdom Down Under lived looked little different than many of the buildings in the city. The architecture was composed of crude blocks of stones, carved into rooms with some windows facing outwards, and could have been mistaken for simply another large building, if it were not for the guard in the Royal Family’s livery before its gates.
Both guards had not questioned Orloff when he brought Cal along with her two nieces - since Sieglinde mentioned that her mother had not met many elven visitors, Cal thought to take her nieces along for the visit - and had waved them in once Orloff said that they were with him.
From the familiar way he walked into the palace, it was clear that he was a frequent visitor to the place. Supposedly the Braumeister always delivered the Royal Family’s orders personally, rather than have some of his disciples or retainers do it in his stead.
“I’m not getting any younger,” he told Cal while they walked through the palace’s garden - a rare luxury us the underground where space was a premium - which was full of strange flora, from several sorts of glowing moss and lichen, to many many types of mushrooms in the place of flowers. “Might as well build a good relationship with the King’s family while I’m around so my successor will have an easier time when I’m gone.”
The Braumeister was indeed of an advanced age, in his fifth century of life. Cal thought Orloff might be younger than Aelfried by a few decades, but they were not that far apart in age overall. That he began to have thoughts on his own mortality and made preparations for his eventual passing was not unusual.
“I am sure you still have many good decades ahead of you,” Cal said in reply. While it sounded simply like her wishing him well with good health, what Orloff had no way of knowing was that one of the Champions of the Deities had earmarked him as a potential successor.
Specifically, the Champion of Rot, the merfolk champion who Cal had met in the Great Emerald Forest just months ago. While she herself confessed to Cal that she was unsure when the research would be finished - which would be when she would pass on to the afterlife - she had begun to scour the lands for a successor, and Orloff was the top candidate on her list.
Naturally, Cal kept mum about that little secret. It would be for Orloff himself to decide when his time arrived, whether he would take up the mantle as the next Champion of Rot or not. Cal herself would not mind it, she realized, if she were to take up the mantle herself and found that her fellows were people like Orloff.
“Ah! You’re here already, Uncle Orloff?” greeted Sieglinde when she happened to walk out from the palace doors just before their small group reached it. The half-elf half-dwarven woman stood beside a young man who resembled her in features, though unlike her he kept his facial hair fully grown. “This is my lil’ brother Jorgen, the Tenth Prince,” she said as she introduced the young man beside her to Cal.
“A pleasure,” Cal said as she shook the young man’s hand. Unlike Sieglinde’s, his hand was noticeably smoother, one that was accustomed to wielding quills and parchments rather than weapons and shields, it seemed. “These two are my nieces, Elaina and Sidonie.”
“You said your mother had not had many elven visitors, so I brought them along,” Cal added.
“That’s very kind of you. Come on in! I’ll take you to mother,” said Sieglinde with a thankful nod.
The Seventh Princess led them through the well-lit - by way of magical lighting - corridors of the palace, which was mostly devoid of decorations. The set pieces that adorned the walls were mostly shields, suits of armor, masterwork weapons, or in some cases, hammers, tongs, anvils, and other tools used by blacksmiths.
It was the Dwarven way to display opulence and wealth. Many of the armor and weapons were made of high-purity adamant steel, while a few were even layered with a sheet of pure adamant on top, the telltale dark shine of the precious metal unmistakable, especially since they were always placed where the lighting made them shine even more.
Sieglinde brought them into a meeting room where they found an elven woman - roughly Idania’s age by Cal’s guess - who held a young babe in her hands, along with a young half-dwarf that could only be Sieglinde’s mentioned little sister, as the two were almost like peas in a pod despite their age difference.
The Elven woman raised her head from her son and looked at the newcomers, before her eyes grew wide in surprise when she saw Cal and her nieces.
“Idania?” she asked with a doubtful voice while she rubbed her eyes with one hand.
Avitue
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“When one talks about a Royal Palace, the prevalent vision in the human lands would be that of a foreboding, grand building, a monument to opulence and luxury, where only those of high status could ever tread. A place where a commoner has no business setting foot to.
Amongst the other races, their take differed greatly. This was especially so amongst the dwarves, who generally just viewed their Royal Palaces more as a place where their Royals lived and little more. The castle built within the Knallgant Grand Citadel probably looked the most similar to what a human might expect from a Royal Palace, built as it was at the top of a mountain where it overlooked the Kingdom.
On the other hand, the Glass Citadel of Al-Hassid was renowned partly as a tourist attraction, even though the Caliph and their family also called it their abode. They simply saw no reason why they shouldn’t use the unique Citadel’s fame to earn money as well.
The Royal Palace Down Under was probably the most modest out of the three palaces of the dwarven realms, only really discernable from other buildings in the city by its size. A practical people, the Dwarves generally eschewed superfluous opulence and luxury. What they used to display their wealth and influence tends to be things like armors and weapons instead.” - Leigh Wainwrought, Sociology Student in the Levain Institute of Higher Learning.
Contrary to what most expected when they heard the words “Royal Palace”, the one where the Royal Family of the Kingdom Down Under lived looked little different than many of the buildings in the city. The architecture was composed of crude blocks of stones, carved into rooms with some windows facing outwards, and could have been mistaken for simply another large building, if it were not for the guard in the Royal Family’s livery before its gates.
Both guards had not questioned Orloff when he brought Cal along with her two nieces - since Sieglinde mentioned that her mother had not met many elven visitors, Cal thought to take her nieces along for the visit - and had waved them in once Orloff said that they were with him.
From the familiar way he walked into the palace, it was clear that he was a frequent visitor to the place. Supposedly the Braumeister always delivered the Royal Family’s orders personally, rather than have some of his disciples or retainers do it in his stead.
“I’m not getting any younger,” he told Cal while they walked through the palace’s garden - a rare luxury us the underground where space was a premium - which was full of strange flora, from several sorts of glowing moss and lichen, to many many types of mushrooms in the place of flowers. “Might as well build a good relationship with the King’s family while I’m around so my successor will have an easier time when I’m gone.”
The Braumeister was indeed of an advanced age, in his fifth century of life. Cal thought Orloff might be younger than Aelfried by a few decades, but they were not that far apart in age overall. That he began to have thoughts on his own mortality and made preparations for his eventual passing was not unusual.
“I am sure you still have many good decades ahead of you,” Cal said in reply. While it sounded simply like her wishing him well with good health, what Orloff had no way of knowing was that one of the Champions of the Deities had earmarked him as a potential successor.
Specifically, the Champion of Rot, the merfolk champion who Cal had met in the Great Emerald Forest just months ago. While she herself confessed to Cal that she was unsure when the research would be finished - which would be when she would pass on to the afterlife - she had begun to scour the lands for a successor, and Orloff was the top candidate on her list.
Naturally, Cal kept mum about that little secret. It would be for Orloff himself to decide when his time arrived, whether he would take up the mantle as the next Champion of Rot or not. Cal herself would not mind it, she realized, if she were to take up the mantle herself and found that her fellows were people like Orloff.
“Ah! You’re here already, Uncle Orloff?” greeted Sieglinde when she happened to walk out from the palace doors just before their small group reached it. The half-elf half-dwarven woman stood beside a young man who resembled her in features, though unlike her he kept his facial hair fully grown. “This is my lil’ brother Jorgen, the Tenth Prince,” she said as she introduced the young man beside her to Cal.
“A pleasure,” Cal said as she shook the young man’s hand. Unlike Sieglinde’s, his hand was noticeably smoother, one that was accustomed to wielding quills and parchments rather than weapons and shields, it seemed. “These two are my nieces, Elaina and Sidonie.”
“You said your mother had not had many elven visitors, so I brought them along,” Cal added.
“That’s very kind of you. Come on in! I’ll take you to mother,” said Sieglinde with a thankful nod.
The Seventh Princess led them through the well-lit - by way of magical lighting - corridors of the palace, which was mostly devoid of decorations. The set pieces that adorned the walls were mostly shields, suits of armor, masterwork weapons, or in some cases, hammers, tongs, anvils, and other tools used by blacksmiths.
It was the Dwarven way to display opulence and wealth. Many of the armor and weapons were made of high-purity adamant steel, while a few were even layered with a sheet of pure adamant on top, the telltale dark shine of the precious metal unmistakable, especially since they were always placed where the lighting made them shine even more.
Sieglinde brought them into a meeting room where they found an elven woman - roughly Idania’s age by Cal’s guess - who held a young babe in her hands, along with a young half-dwarf that could only be Sieglinde’s mentioned little sister, as the two were almost like peas in a pod despite their age difference.
The Elven woman raised her head from her son and looked at the newcomers, before her eyes grew wide in surprise when she saw Cal and her nieces.
“Idania?” she asked with a doubtful voice while she rubbed her eyes with one hand.
Avitue
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