The sun was taking its place overlooking the seemingly peaceful kingdom of Runefaust. Wildlife and society went on as normal. The wind blew westward and the wide savanna's and trees waved at the sky as the midday had begun to settle in. A large city that blemished the earth was beginning to spring to life.

Runefaust

The large bustling capitol that the kingdom was named after. Also known as the "Pinnacle of the Planes" for many travelers and adventurers. Here, one could find everything and nothing all in the same area. If it had a price it could be sold, if there was a job... well, it was left to the guilds to handle. Managed blindly from inside the fortress by King Artaimis, the guilds maintained control, making guards a formality.

The Guild aptly named held absolute control of the economy in the capitol providing an overlord protection to not only the people, but to the guilds from each other as well. No lower-classed citizen would ever pay the mind however, the thought loomed over middle class, and the uppers... well the corruption ran deep into their own pockets.

Kalkahnor sat at a table in the Coughing Raven Pub sipping his while intently keeping his eyes on the doorway. Any minute now his plea for help would be answered. He had sent out a "Merc Call" requesting mercenaries from the outside lands so as not to arouse suspicion within the kingdom. He stared out the window in contemplation.

And now... I wait... Hopefully this will be a better turnout...

Jetharius lands in the outskirts of the bustling city and magically shifts into his human-esque form. Dusk had fallen and Jetharius was weary from traveling. The town held a plethora of various magical facilities, but the interest of the dragon was drawn to the largest. The Mage's guild was his destination preferably before nightfall.
Jetharius arrived at the city gates long before the guards had withdrawn and the gates lowered, he quickly paced through the streets. This had been the first time he had been in public eyes in ten years, more than a few eyes followed the billow of his cloak, trying to catch more than a glimpse at his swords. Jetharius arrived at the Mage's guild before the doors were locked by a stroke of luck. The old guildmaster eyed him wearily but allowed the hooded human within.
Once inside the guild master asked, "A bit late for an appointment no?"
Jetharius sighed, "My travels have lasted a day and more, I require some reagents of specific design"
The guild master replied, "A simple request, what do you require?"
Jetharius named off four reagents, "Six scrolls, two activation scrolls, two summoning scrolls, two banishing scrolls, and two vials of atomized star ruby"
The guild master paused momentarily before questioning further, "Quite a pricey list, how will you be paying?"
"Platinum astons, what else?" Jetharius responded. Surprised, the guild master hurried away, snapping up the requested components. He returned moments later with the six scrolls and two crystal vials.
"355 plastons please" The old gray guild master asked holding out his free hand. Jetharius dropped a heavy coin sack in his proffered palm and offered his free hand for the materials. The guild master handed him the materials and peeked into the purse. Brilliant white-silver coins filled the bag. The old mage raised his eyebrows and looked up, just in time to catch the door hinging shut.
Jetharius rounded the first alleyway and pulled out his magical dagger, keying his way into his demi-plane, his home.
The tiny plane was dark and cool, the soft grass crunching under his footfalls. He proceeded into the depths of his tiny mountain lair and retrieved two solid bricks of metal, one gold, one palladium. He bit a chunk straight out of both and smelted the metal with his diffused breath. Chewing the metal like soft dough, Jetharius shuffles about for his sized ring cast. He forces the soft metal into the cast with his mouth and lets it cool before splitting the cast apart and repeating the process for a second ring. He swallows the remaining metal and sets to work polishing the two gold rings. After he finished polishing the metal he sets to carving a complex series of runes on the inside of the bands spelling out a long draconic spell worded in wild-magic. Once complete, Jetharius unfurls the six scrolls and sets them upon each other in sets of three. He then sets the ring in the middle of the stack of scrolls and pours the ruby dust inside the ring. Raising a hand over each ring Jetharius channels his magic into the power of the scrolls willing his wild magic to fuel the spell set in the rings to combine with that of the arcane scrolls. The ink of the scrolls glistens and melts into the ruby which then liquifies and coalesces into the band of the ring. Opening his eyes Jetharius examines the work of his spell, re-reading his carved ruby filled inscription. A sparkle of fresh magic dancing over the lettering of the rings. Jetharius slipped them on idly and unsheathed both Miirvyth and Aeshtier, his swords. He set them down gently on the workbench and set his hands upon them. He channeled his intent into the rings to bind to the swords while the spell was still fresh. A fiery sheathe creeped over the blades, consuming them entirely. The blaze grew until the swords vanished from view altogether. Jetharius inverted his hands, his palms facing up and re-emphasizing his will. A fiery mote appeared in his palm which in the matter of only seconds grew into a vertical blaze from which both Miirvyth and Aesthier materialized. Pleased Jetharius dismissed his weapons then relocated to his quarters and retired for the night.
Tomorrow he would find Kalkahnor.

Jetharius Karvoth

Jetharius Karvoth

Jetharius Karvoth Glares at the Elvish Feyling

Jetharius Karvoth SKIDOOOOOOSH

Sephora

Jetharius Karvoth

Jetharius Karvoth

Sephora tosses her hair

Sephora eats an apple

Jetharius Karvoth scracthes his head