Itharûn: Era of Ascendance

Where honor soars on dragon wings.

The winds of the highlands sang with the voices of dragons.

In the early years of the Era of Ascendance, Itharûn rose from its rugged ridges and granite peaks to become a beacon of honor and power. Highspire Citadel, the crown of the realm, was hewn from the mountain’s heart with the aid of Sky-Dragons and the skill of flame-masons. Its towers reached into the thin air, crowned by gold-veined spires that caught the sunrise like blades of fire. From its walls, the bonded dragonriders looked down upon a land forged by both steel and oath.

The Pact of Flame and Aether was more than a myth here—it was a living covenant. Sky-Dragons, noble and vast, had bound their essence to the bloodlines of Itharûn’s highborn warriors. The bond was not merely of command but of spirit; each rider felt the heartbeat of their dragon as their own, and each dragon shared the thoughts of their rider as if whispered on the wind. The fiercest among them, the Stormriders, were trained for the lightning-charged fury of aerial raids, their wings cutting through tempests as easily as sunlight.

High Flamekeeper Aeraleth, guardian of tradition, presided over the Wardens of the Flame—a disciplined order sworn to preserve dragon knowledge and maintain the fragile peace between the realms. His was a leadership of measured wisdom, but his eyes often drifted to the horizon where storms brewed—not only in the skies but in the hearts of those hungry for glory.

Among his knights was Ser Kaelen Duskveil, a man of unyielding discipline whose gaze could measure the strength of a soldier in a single glance. He led the Stormrider trainings in the perilous cloud-chasms, where the roar of wind and thunder drowned all thought but the instinct to survive. Ysara Flamewing, fierce and reckless, sought to prove herself worthy of leading a bonded flight. Her Sky-Dragon, Selvarion, shared her thirst for the thrill of battle and the joy of windborne freedom.

High above, Daranor of the Ridge, an elder Sky-Dragon whose scales shimmered like stormlight, remembered the first days of the Pact. His wisdom was a steadying force among younger dragons, yet even he sensed the currents of change. The skies were never still for long.

While Itharûn thrived, the Shardfall Skirmishes erupted in the borderlands—sparked by the crash of crystal shards from the floating isles. Neighboring realms squabbled over the strange mineral’s magical properties, and though Itharûn held back from outright war, their riders often patrolled the contested skies, a silent warning to those who would trespass.

Not all conflict was fought in open air. Whispered news of the Forgotten Pact between Galdrowen and Skyreach reached the ears of Itharûn’s council, a reminder that alliances could fade like morning mist. Meanwhile, Skyreach’s mages cloaked parts of the Aether Crown under a veil of secrecy, marking a shift that many feared would reshape the balance of power.

Yet through all trials, the highlands stood proud. In the quiet before dawn, the mountains glowed in the amber light of dragonfire as bonded pairs took to the skies—warrior and dragon as one, bound by oath, by flame, and by the promise that Itharûn’s honor would never falter.