Into the Lands of Evasiry

Chapter 1: New Arrival

Jorm, no one special. Just a three-foot tall dragon humanoid, or Kobold, with a hobby for making music... or so he would have you think. His deep crimson scales contrasted his sharp yellow eyes, his horns chipped from when he used to travel the world. He gathered both musical talent and magical talent, becoming both a renowned fighter and Bard. His heroic actions heavily drowned out the actions of his more youthful past. He's a hero in the eyes of several people, but he's committed his share of crimes as well. His body hasn't changed much, so his iconic studded leather still fits.

Jorm had gotten a letter, an invitation. A new king had been crowned over in a kingdom across the country. They wanted him to come and perform for him, as they requested the best of the best. They will pay for his services, like always. Jorm, eager at a king witnessing his performance, happily got everything together to go to this new king and to his next stage.

...

It took a full week to get to it though. The kingdom, Evasiry, pronounced Eh-Vah-Ser-E, as he was told by the carriage driver, was large but on a smaller plot of land. It was condensed, is what it was. Buildings on top of buildings, roadways between buildings in the air. It all had this nice sandy white sheen to it, like it was all made of pale off-white marble.

"Ever been to Evasiry, sir?" The elvish carriage driver asked Jorm.

"No, not really. I spend my time on the other half on the continent most often. My home's back over there, not much reason to leave." Jorm took in the cleanliness of it all compared to the messy lovable chaos of back home.

"Well, this place is a bit different than your usual, eh? And up to see the new King Ivgan. Lucky soul."

...

"Three hours, they said. Had to look 'Fancy,' they said." Jorm mumbled to himself as he wandered the market, searching for high-end attire with armor inlays. "Why they won't just let me wear my armor is beyond me." His grumbling was interrupted by the pleasant sounds of chimes from a nearby stall. He focused and heard a voice shouting.

"Finest cloth from Avalor! Hand-woven by talented artists themselves!" Jorm approached the... unusual stall. It had an orange-white color pallet unlike the other stalls, and the sign was lined with crystal chimes. The stall owner was about double his height.

"Hello, does your clothing provide armor inlays?" Jorm asked. The stall owner, a cross between a fluffy Tabaxi cat-person and a bird, his fur brown but his feathers lined with a bright green, looked down at Jorm with big blue eyes.

"My friend, our clothing is the best you can get! Not only good for looking and *sounding* stylish, but it even provides inlays of whatever you need!" A stunned silence stood for a good three seconds before Jorm blinked.

"I'm sorry, they what?"

"Ah, someone hasn't seen us before." The stall owner hopped up and landed on the ground, eye level with Jorm. He stuck out a three fingered, clawed hand.

"I'm Fulrus. Nice to meet you, mister...?"

"Jorm." They shook hands, and Fulrus gave a half grin to Jorm.

"I'm an Avali. We're a race from a colder part of the world. We don't like heat, so we only send people with magical protection." He pointed to two pairs of ears on his head.

"We have advanced sound perception, and our culture is highly musical. Most of our high-end fashion sounds as good as it looks!" Jorm cracked a grin.

"A highly music-based culture? You sound like my kind of people. Let's see what you have."

...

Jorm walked into the ballroom, a grand crimson red robe draped over his shoulders. Small chimes played whenever he took a step, and the robe had the bonus of feeling like his normal armor due to inserts.