[Nihlus Macala]

Season: Fall, Year One

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Ciryatan. Curious.

The ruins of the former capital of the elves had always intrigued Nihlus. It was strange to see a city of such splendor to be left in ruin by the people who built it, especially when it was done by choice. The elves, as strange as it was, seemed to treat the ruin with... dread, really. The majority of them refused to step foot within the city, and supposedly it was to 'leave the dead to rest in peace.' In his personal opinion, Nihlus thought they were simply terrified of the city. Why, however, was another story. What was there to fear? No matter how many times the Feanaro entered the city, never once did he feel fear. Never once did he get an 'eerie feeling,' like the elves insisted.

Maybe it was simply because he wasn't an elf.

Regardless, Nihlus wasn't complaining. The lack of a permanent elf presence meant his forays into the ruins were left uninterrupted. It also meant he had free reign on what to salvage from within. The sheer amount of.... things, that the elves left behind when they fled their capital baffled him. Simple, obviously replaceable things such as clothing, and trinkets, made up the majority of that which was left behind of course, but there were other things. Valuable things. Such as the sword the Feanaro carried at his side. Nihlus was proud of that particular find, and rightfully so. Clearly crafted by an elven smith of great skill. the blade was beautiful. Perfectly balanced. Flawless.

But it wasn't simply the sword that Nihlus had managed to retrieve in his past visits. There were other things, resources that were otherwise hard to obtain in a more... legitimate fashion. Jewelry, ready for enchanting. Herbs that when mixed could produce healing poultices that would put more common ones to shame. Most valuable of all, however, were the dead.

The corpses of, or, more specifically, the souls of the dead, were the one thing that Ciryatan had more than most other places. Of course, one could find a corpse almost anywhere there were people, but people had a habit of making sure that the bodies were secured. Not only that, but the average villager had a tendency to look down upon body snatching, and had the habit of calling the guard. In Ciryatan, there were no such problems. Though a fresh body took much less energy to raise, the trouble that came with claiming it usually outweighed the benefits. Besides, Nihlus did not need fully functioning servants. Animated skeletons served his purposes quite well.

However, the corpses of the long deceased were not what drew Nihlus into the ruins of Ciryatan on this day, nor was it one of the countless other resources the city held. What brought Nihlus here now, was the faint but unmistakable trace of a powerful spell's target location. Over the years the Feanaro had spent trekking through the city, never once had he detected a magic user. The occasional elf wanderers with more common sense then their brethren, perhaps, but magic users? Let alone ones powerful enough to leave a trace like that behind? It was something that was incredibly intriguing to Nihlus.

From what Nihlus could feel, it was a relatively recent casting, perhaps done within the past month or two. The fact that it was cast at that point, and still was detectable was something which made Nihlus even more interested. Who had cast it? Why? What was their target? These questions had been some of the few that had flown through the Feanaro's head the moment he had exited from his portal and noticed the remaining energy. These were questions he had the intention of getting answered.

The trail had led him deep within the ruins by now, and with every step he took, Nihlus could feel the trace grow more and more clear. He was getting close. Very, very close.

After some time, Nihlus was able to track down the origin point of the spell's target to one particular location, a location that came as a surprise to him. Ciryatan's palace. By the time he reached the great doors which marked the entrance to the once-majestic building, Nihlus could feel the magic pushing against him. This was the center point. Within, he'd find the cause.

Just as Nihlus made to open the doors, a dark shape detached itself from the shadows of one of the palace towers above him, swooping down towards him. The Feanaro grinned, and extended his arm out. "Ah, Shadow, nice of you to join me," he laughed, as his black hawk familiar settled onto his arm. "I was wondering if you had gotten lost again, oh noble bird." The hawk nipped at Nihlus's arm, before gliding over to a perch near the door. Nihlus laughed again. "You know I'm kidding. By the way, have you seen Wraith, by chance?"

At first, the hawk didn't change its posture, but after a moment turned its gaze to a point slightly above and behind Nihlus. The Feanaro turned to follow his familiar's eyes, and was greeted with the sight of a small, jet black cat balancing on top of a partially collapsed wall. "There you are, Wraith." With a smile, Nihlus beckoned his other familiar over to him, before turning back to the door. "Come my friends, there's something to be found within these halls. Let us go see what it is, shall we?"

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The palace throne room had clearly seen better days, Nihlus noted. Rubble was strewn across the floor, and several pillars which had once held up the floor were now laying across the ground, parts of the ceiling that they once held up alongside them. Despite its state of disrepair, Nihlus had to admit that the room had a certain beauty too it still. The way the beams of sunlight flowed through the broken windows across the ground, highlighting the dust which floated through the air... it was quite something.

As he navigated his way through the rubble, his familiars close behind, Nihlus could feel the residual energy from the spell practically screaming at him. It was here, within this room, that the spell had landed, he realized. Glancing at his familiars, Nihlus nodded in the direction from where the energy was greatest, and watched as Shadow and Wraith headed towards it. Though they could not feel the energies like he himself could, Wraith and Shadow did have a knack for detecting things that weren't completely natural, something which Nihlus figured was related to the process they had undergone to become his familiars.

After a few moments, Nihlus heard Shadow's call from across the room. The Feanaro hurried over as fast as he could, clambering over a couple of pillars on his way. As he jumped over the last pillar, Nihlus could feel the spell's energy hit him full force in the face, nearly sending him tumbling back over the rubble. Steadying himself, the Feanaro looked down to see what it was that had dragged him all the way to the palace.

"What in the hell?"

Nestled snugly in a gap in the rubble was a dark purple... object. From what Nihlus could see, it was rounded, almost orb-like in shape. A rock, perhaps? Slowly, he reached down to touch the orb, weary of the possibility of magical backlash, but curious enough to chance it. The moment his gauntleted hands brushed the sides of the object, Nihlus gasped. Upon contact, the magical energies that had led him to it simply vanished, something which Nihlus was utterly unprepared for. He pulled back quickly, and tried to catch his breath.

A few moments passed before Nihlus glanced down at the orb-thing. Confident that it wasn't going to explode in his face and kill him, now that he'd touched it already, Nihlus reached towards it again, this time faster. He half expected something else to happen anyway, but when he laid his hands on it, nothing happened. Curious. What are you?

Wrapping his hands around it, Nihlus pulled. To his surprise, as the thing came free of the rubble that had held it, he saw that it was not in fact an orb as he had assumed, but actually more of an oval. Egg-shaped, almost...

Nihlus's jaw dropped. He knew what he was holding. By the gods, did he know what he was holding. It had been years since he had last read about it, but he could recall the information the book held, if only just barely. The thing in his hands, the thing that had drawn him into Ciryatan. It was perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. It was power incarnate.

It was a dragon egg.

For a moment, Nihlus simply stared at the thing, unable to fathom how he had managed to get so lucky. As the thought sank in, Nihlus gave thanks for his ability to sense powerful magic. Before, he simply shrugged it off as something that was a mere curiosity, something that could come in handy, but wasn't exactly important. But now... with this? It had given him his greatest prize yet.

But wait... how do I know it's alive?

This thought froze him mid-thought. How could he be sure this thing wasn't dead? Dragons were rare creatures, rumored only to live in the highest of mountains, and even then only rumored. How could he be sure that the thing inside the egg was still developing? How could he be sure there even was anything inside of it to develop?

He needed to get home. In his lair, he could test the egg, make sure it was still a viable item. His magic, his books. With them, he could see if this truly had a dragon within it. And if it did... if it indeed held a dragon..

A malicious grin slowly began to form across the Feanaro's face as he realized what a true find would mean.

Death. Beautiful, magnificent death.