Drachenburg

Perched high in the jagged arms of the North Mountains, Drachenburg is a city-state hewn from cliff-face and legend. Its sheer granite walls and natural battlements have defied every siege for centuries, earning it a reputation as the unbreachable bastion of the north. Austere towers rise like teeth from the rock, their iron-banded windows watching the world below with quiet vigilance. Within, the people of Drachenburg live by principles as enduring as the stone they shape: independence, craftsmanship, and the solemn dignity of self-rule.

Drachenburg trades in stone, steel, and silence. Its neutrality is not merely policy—it is ritual, upheld by generations of Lugals and etched into the city’s very identity. This reputation has made Drachenburg the preferred ground for international negotiations, where emissaries from rival nations gather in the Hall of Dragons to speak beneath vaulted ceilings. The Hall, seated at the heart of Mediborough, is the city’s central court, where five elected Lugals—each representing Northborough, Westborough, Eastborough, Southborough, and Mediborough—govern in tense consensus.

Yet beneath the solemn stone lies shadow. Whispers speak of a seedy underbelly—thieves’ guilds that move through the underground, and sealed vaults that prefer to stay shut.

Foundation and Culture of Drachenburg

Drachenburg’s origins are carved as deeply into myth as into stone. Long before it became a city-state, it may have been a refuge—a fortress carved into the cliffs by desperate hands fleeing collapse, famine, or some other threat. The mountains offered no mercy, but they offered protection. What began as a last bastion became a cradle of endurance, where survival bred a culture of stoic pride and fierce independence.

Though the city now speaks the Common tongue, its dialect carries the cadence of old Hesan. Linguistic residue lingers in the clipped cadence of Drachenburg speech: final consonants are hardened, vowels narrowed, and compound words favored over borrowed terms. A Drachenburg mason might say steinbind instead of “mortar,” or felszorn for “rockslide”—terms that evoke both precision and poetic severity. Scholars place the city's foundation somewhere around 500 to 800 years ago, but debate whether Drachenburg was once a pre-imperial culturally Hesan kingdom or simply a haven for those displaced by natural and political events. Either way, the city’s identity is resolutely its own: austere, self-governed, and unyielding.

Craftsmanship is revered, not just as art but as proof of the city project. Stonework, metallurgy, and civic architecture are expressions of civic virtue. The masons of Drachenburg build for permanence. Their neutrality is not passive but principled, forged in the belief that endurance outlasts conquest. This ethos permeates every borough, from the high halls of Mediborough to the wind-scoured terraces of Northborough.

Historical Sieges and Diplomatic Triumphs

The Silent Siege (Approx. 500-800 years ago)

A mysterious force—never formally identified—surrounded Drachenburg for three days, making no demands and launching no attacks. The city remained sealed, its people waiting in disciplined silence. On the fourth morning, the besiegers vanished. No banners, no bodies, no trace. To this day, the Silent Siege is commemorated with a citywide fast and the tolling of bells at dawn. Scholars suggest that this harkens back to the city's foundations, or an event that transitioned Drachenburg from a fortress of survival, to a city way of life.

The Siege of Blackwake (Roughly 400 years ago)

A coalition of lowland warlords, emboldened by a rare alliance, attempted to breach Drachenburg’s defenses during a bitter winter. They brought siege engines, tunneling crews, and even skyhooks to scale the cliffs. The city responded not with counterattack, but with silence—closing its gates and retreating into the mountain. After six weeks of attrition, the invaders succumbed to frostbite, infighting, and starvation. The siege ended without a single Drachenburg casualty.

The Ember Accord (250 years ago)

In the wake of an early imperial Hesan succession crisis, rival claimants to the imperial throne met in Drachenburg’s Hall of Dragons. The negotiations lasted 93 days, punctuated by duels, walkouts, and one dramatic poisoning attempt. Ultimately, the Ember Accord was signed, establishing a truce that seemed to hold Hesa's internal tensions between north and south until this day. Drachenburg’s reputation as a neutral ground was sealed in legend.

The Thieve's Guild

Beneath Drachenburg’s stoic façade lies a shadow network known as The Hollow Sigil, a thieves’ guild as old as the city’s founding myths. Its operations are quiet, deliberate, and deeply embedded. The guild’s symbol—a broken circle carved subtly into masonry or etched into the corner of a ledger—marks safehouses, drop points, and hidden passages. But its most infamous mark rests above a boarded-up apothecary in Eastborough: The Gentle Fang.

Once a legitimate herbalist’s shop, The Gentle Fang was shuttered decades ago after a fire supposedly ruined its stock. Now, it stands as a forgotten relic—its windows dusted over, its sign faded to near illegibility. But those who know where to look can find the Hollow Sigil carved into the doorframe, just beneath a rusted iron hinge. A knock in the right rhythm, a whispered phrase, and the boards give way to a stairwell descending into the city’s hidden arteries.

The guild operates through borough-specific cells, each with its own specialty. The Ledger in Mediborough handles forgery and political manipulation, often influencing negotiations in the Hall of Dragons through unseen hands. Cliffborn in Northborough are climbers and infiltrators, masters of vertical escape and silent entry. Ashhands in Southborough deal in poisons, disappearances, and the art of making death look like misfortune.

The Hollow Sigil remains a symbol of Drachenburg’s quiet duplicity: a city that trades in silence, but listens to everything.