[Trade] [EVENT - Ch3 KARMA] - Court of Stone and Scale

The court of Stone and Scale was not a place one stumbled into lightly. Its halls were carved into the sides of a mountain, their walls glittering with veins of crystal and veins of metal, each vein mined and polished by countless claws over the centuries. The air smelled of age, iron, damp stone, and the musk of great beasts that had lingered here for generations. Torches lined the archways, their flames guttering against the draft of high cavern ceilings, casting long shadows that stretched like reaching talons.
This was no gathering of simple herds. The court was a council of power, an ancient conclave of the greatest dinosaurs of the realm, where alliances were forged, offerings weighed, and oaths broken or sealed. Each dinosaur who wished entry had to pay tithe: gems, tools, metals, or service to prove their worth. Those who came with nothing but empty claws were turned away, or worse, made the subject of scornful whispers that would haunt them forever.
And so it was, on a pale morning when the mists rolled thick over the mountainside, that three newcomers approached the gates of the court.
Rei, the pale-coated female with a head of deep, ruddy brown, walked at the front. Her cozy feathers caught the mist and shimmered faintly, like frost clinging to stone. Despite her delicate coloration, she carried herself with calm assurance, though her orange eyes betrayed her nerves.
Beside her strode Seri, the volcanic-hued male, his body a living flame of black and molten markings that streaked across his flanks in sharp contrast. His steps were heavier, more deliberate, and his gaze never stopped sweeping the ridges above them, as if daring unseen watchers to reveal themselves. Seri had the air of one who could weather firestorms and not be bowed, yet his quick breaths betrayed an underlying tension.
Behind them walked Faramond. Where Seri was fire and Rei was frost, Faramond was earth. His coat was a canvas of creams, browns, and blacks, like river stone smoothed by centuries. His steps were neither cautious nor bold, but steady, as though he alone felt unhurried by the weight of judgment that awaited them. His wide frill, patterned in earthy swirls, lifted proudly though not arrogantly—his bearing was one of quiet dignity.
The guards at the gate watched them approach, dinosaurs wearing armor made of metal and scale, their eyes glinting in the dim light. None spoke. It was not their duty to welcome strangers. That honor, or burden, fell to the courtiers within.
The three companions paused at the threshold. A silence hung, heavy as stone.
“We must not falter now,” Rei whispered, her voice thin in the mist. “If they sense weakness, we are finished before we begin.”
Seri snorted, a plume of hot breath rising from his nostrils. “Weakness isn’t my concern. It’s what we offer that troubles me. They are vultures in jeweled scales, always hungering, never satisfied. What if they find our offerings unworthy?”
“Then we offer ourselves,” Faramond rumbled, his tone even, his deep blue eyes steady. “Service given freely has weight where treasure does not. Even the court must respect dedication.”
The gates groaned open.
The three were led into a grand cavern, its walls shimmering with gemstones inset deliberately into cracks, glowing faintly from veins of crystal that captured and reflected the torchlight. Long platforms of polished stone stretched across the chamber, layered in tiers where the courtiers reclined. Massive parasaurolophs with jeweled crests, armored ceratopsians with frilled ornaments, raptors adorned with bronze bands, and ankylosaurs whose tails glittered with inset gems, all eyes turned upon the newcomers.
A voice thundered from the highest dais, where a towering old Euoplocephalus presided, his horns capped with silver bands.
“You have entered the Court of Stone and Scale. You stand in judgment before us. Know this: no stranger earns trust easily here. If you wish to belong, you must pay tithe or serve.”
The weight of a hundred gazes bore down on them.
Rei stepped forward first. She lowered her head, bowing slightly, and placed before her a bundle wrapped in woven reeds. With a gentle nudge of her muzzle, she revealed its contents, delicate human-made tools of gleaming metal: small knives, twisted wires, and hammered discs etched with strange symbols.
“These,” Rei said, voice steady though her tail twitched, “I gathered from the fallen camps of men. They shape and cut with a precision our claws cannot match. I offer them, so that the court may wield tools beyond beastly strength.”
A murmur rippled through the gathered courtiers. Humans were strange creatures, feared and despised in equal measure, yet their tools were undeniably useful.
The old euoplocephalus inclined his head slightly. “Interesting… the frost-coated one brings ingenuity stolen from lesser hands. Clever, but insufficient. One gift does not buy favor.”
Seri moved forward next, his claws clinking against stone. He lowered his body and dragged forth a heavy bundle of stones bound with sinew. With a forceful shove, he revealed them: raw nuggets of obsidian and volcanic glass, sharp as teeth, glinting with fire when torchlight struck them.
“From the mountain’s heart I pulled these,” Seri declared, his deep voice echoing. “Cutting stone, harder than bone. With it, one can fashion weapons worthy of the court’s warriors, or ornaments sharper than any insult.”
The murmur grew louder. A raptor tilted her head, eyes gleaming. A parasaurolophus whispered to his neighbor, crest vibrating with soft resonance. The court was interested, yet still unmoved.
Faramond stepped last. He carried nothing.
The hall hushed.

“Empty-clawed?” an oviraptor sneered from the second tier. “Does the earth-painted one mock us?”
But Faramond did not flinch. He lowered his great head, his horns dipping low in respect, and spoke.
“I bring no gem. No metal. No toy forged by lesser hands. What I offer is my strength, my service, and my loyalty to the court. I will carry your burdens, polish your armor, guard your gates, and tend your young. Where stone cracks, I will mend it. Where filth spreads, I will cleanse it. Where enemies gather, I will stand. This is my tithe, not trinkets, but myself.”
The court fell into stunned silence.
The euoplocephalus’s old eyes narrowed, and then, slowly, he rumbled, “Service freely given is heavier than gold. Your words will be tested.”
Rei, Seri, and Faramond were permitted to remain within the court walls, though not yet welcomed. They had much to prove.
The days that followed tested the trio in ways they had not expected.
Rei, with her keen eyes and nimble steps, was set to work preparing and serving food for feasts. She carried bundles of herbs and fruits, slicing them with the very human tools she had offered. Many sneered, mocking her for dabbling in human craft, yet soon even the most prideful admitted the tools made tasks easier. Rei learned to endure the whispers, her quiet resilience slowly earning respect.
Seri was tasked with maintaining the court’s defenses. His obsidian shards were taken by artisans who fashioned them into wicked spearheads and ceremonial ornaments. He labored in the forge, fanning flames with his powerful lungs, carrying heavy ore in his jaws. His volcanic hues made him seem as if he belonged beside fire, and the others began to see him as more than a brash outsider.
Faramond became a servant of all. He tidied sleeping dens, carried water from underground streams, polished the bronze bands of the raptors’ claws, and even cleaned the filth from armor plates caked with old mud and moss. Many mocked him at first, scoffing at the mighty ceratopsian brought low to menial labor. But Faramond never wavered. His calm patience, his willingness to bow his head without complaint, began to unsettle the court. They could not deny his loyalty was genuine.
Still, distrust lingered.

One evening, the court gathered for a great feast. Fires burned high, shadows dancing across the cavern walls. Courtiers reclined in splendor, scales adorned with gems and bones polished to brilliance. At the center, the old euoplocephalus rose.
“Strangers,” he thundered, “you have offered gifts and service, yet the court remains divided. Some call you worthy. Others call you liars cloaked in humility. There is but one way to decide: the Trial of Favor. If you can prove your worth not in words or offerings, but in action before all, then you may claim a place here. Refuse, and depart in disgrace.”
Rei, Seri, and Faramond exchanged glances. None spoke, but all three lowered their heads in unison. They would not refuse.
The trial was announced: a rival band of dinosaurs had stolen from the court’s stores, precious gems and metals meant for trade. The thieves lurked in the forested lowlands beyond the mountain. The strangers would recover what was lost. If they succeeded, favor would be theirs. If they failed, they would not be welcomed again.
The three set out at dawn, mist curling around their legs as they descended the mountain. Rei led, her pale coat gleaming faintly against the dim light. Seri followed close, his volcanic hues blending into the dark rocks. Faramond brought up the rear, his steady tread like the rhythm of drums.
The lowlands were dense with ferns and ancient trees, their trunks twisted with vines. The air was heavy, damp with the smell of moss. Tracks marked the ground, heavy footprints of ceratopsians and raptors, moving in haste.
“We must be careful,” Rei murmured. “The thieves will not yield easily.”
Seri bared his teeth in a grim smile. “Good. Let them fight. I’ve been waiting.”
Faramond’s deep voice rumbled. “We fight only if we must. The court favors wisdom as much as strength.”
They pressed on, following the trail until it led to a clearing where the thieves had made camp. A ragged band of cryolophosaurus lounged among stolen goods, their crests marked with crude paint. Raptor scouts darted between shadows, their claws glinting with ill-kept bronze.
Rei’s eyes sharpened. “We cannot face them head-on. Too many.”
“Then we strike like fire,” Seri growled. “Fast, fierce, before they can rally.”
Faramond shook his head. “No. We take back what was stolen without needless blood. The court asked for proof of worth, not a massacre.”
Tension flared between them, but Rei raised her crest. “We must combine our strengths. Seri, you create the distraction. Faramond, you hold the line if they charge. I will slip in and recover the goods.”
Seri snorted, but after a moment, he nodded.
The plan was set.

Seri exploded from the ferns like a comet, his roar shaking the clearing. Raptors shrieked and scattered, some leaping toward him with snapping jaws. The cryolophosaurus leader rose with a hiss, crest catching the light.
“Thieves!” Seri bellowed, striking at the ground with his claws. “Face me!”
The camp erupted in chaos. Raptors swarmed, their bronze weapons flashing, but Faramond stepped from the shadows and planted himself like a mountain. His tail lashed, his horns lowered, and he swept the attackers aside with earth-shaking force. Each blow was measured, deliberate, driving the enemies back but sparing their lives when possible.
Rei moved unseen. Her pale hide melted into mist, her steps silent as falling dew. While the thieves’ attention locked on her companions, she slipped between tents and piles of loot. Gems glittered faintly in the half-light: sapphires, rubies, and opals, bright as stars stolen from the sea. She gathered them quickly into a woven satchel, her heart pounding at every nearby screech.
But the cryolophosaurus leader saw her. With a guttural cry, he lunged. Rei barely twisted aside, his jaws snapping shut where her throat had been. She darted backward, but the leader pursued.
Seri, locked in combat with three raptors, saw her peril. With a roar, he hurled one aside and crashed into the leader, teeth meeting crest. The two dinosaurs toppled, thrashing in the dirt.
“Go!” Seri snarled through clenched jaws.

Rei hesitated, but Faramond’s voice boomed: “Take the gems! Run!”
She obeyed, vanishing into the forest with the stolen treasure reclaimed. Faramond pressed forward, shielding her path, while Seri fought with a savage joy that burned like fire. At last, with a final heave, Seri slammed the leader into the ground. He pinned him, snarling, but did not kill.
“Your thieving days are done,” Seri growled. “Return to your forests, and pray Atlantis forgets your name.”
The raptors, seeing their leader beaten and their camp scattered, fled into the undergrowth. Silence fell at last.
Hours later, the three companions returned to the court of Atlantis. They bore heavy bruisers and scratches, but have saved precious gems, gleaming in the satchel Rei laid before the throne. The courtiers gasped at the sight, whispers echoing through the vaulted hall.
The voice of the high chancellor rang out, deep and resonant:
“You have proven yourselves. With wisdom, courage, and unity, you restored what was taken. Atlantis will not forget.”
Rei bowed low, Seri’s crest gleamed with pride, and Faramond’s steady eyes shone. They had faced trial together, and in the heart of danger, they had become more than strangers. They had become a band, tested, bound, and now welcomed into the favor of Atlantis.
And so their names were carried in song through the halls of the deep, forever tied to the day when thieves were broken, and the court’s gems returned.