The air in Draventhall hung thick with the smell of coal smoke, hot metal, and the rhythmic clang of hammers against steel. Unlike the crystalline beauty of Vaelorin, Draventhall was a kingdom carved from the very mountains that sheltered it. Obsidian peaks loomed over the sprawling network of forges and workshops that defined the capital city, also named Draventhall. Rivers of molten ore glowed like fiery veins within the earth, powering the intricate machinery that churned day and night.
Draventhall was the domain of the Ironclaw Clan, and their reputation throughout the seven kingdoms was one of unyielding strength and unmatched craftsmanship in the art of war. While other Lycan territories might boast powerful warriors or cunning strategists, Draventhall held dominion over the forge, their ingenuity and tireless work ethic producing weapons and siege engines of terrifying efficiency.
The capital city was a testament to this might. Buildings were constructed from heavy, dark stone, reinforced with bands of iron. Instead of ornate carvings, the architecture favored function, with thick walls and strategically placed defenses. The sounds of industry were constant – the roar of the bellows, the screech of grinding gears, the earth-shaking impact of massive hammers shaping raw metal into instruments of destruction.
Lord Vorlag Ironclaw, the ruler of Draventhall, embodied the spirit of his kingdom. He was a figure of immense physical presence, his hands calloused and strong from years spent overseeing the forges. His jaw was square and his gaze direct, betraying a nature that valued pragmatism and raw power above all else. While the Silvermane Dynasty prized wisdom and diplomacy, the Ironclaw Clan revered strength and the tangible results of their labor.
Deep within the heart of the mountain, the Great Forge pulsed with relentless energy. Here, under the watchful eyes of master smiths, Lycans with an innate understanding of metalwork toiled tirelessly. They were not merely smiths; they were artisans of destruction, their Lycan strength allowing them to manipulate materials and power machinery far beyond human capabilities.
Rows upon rows of weapons gleamed in the fiery light: massive war axes capable of cleaving through armored ranks, wickedly barbed spears designed to inflict maximum damage, and shields reinforced with layers of hardened steel. But it was Draventhall's siege engines that truly set them apart.
Colossal trebuchets, their arms crafted from reinforced ironwood and powered by intricate counterweight systems, stood ready to hurl massive stones capable of shattering castle walls. Siege towers, clad in thick metal plating and equipped with battering rams tipped with iron claws, loomed like mobile fortresses. And then there were the "Iron Wolves," Draventhall's most fearsome creations – heavily armored war constructs powered by a combination of Lycan muscle and ingenious clockwork mechanisms. These behemoths, shaped like monstrous wolves, could tear through enemy lines with terrifying speed and brute force.
The efficiency of Draventhall's war machine was legendary. Their armies were always well-equipped, their sieges swift and brutal. Other kingdoms often relied on Draventhall's armaments, albeit with a degree of caution, for the Ironclaw Clan's focus on warfare sometimes made their ambitions seem…unpredictable.
As Lord Vorlag surveyed the sprawling workshops from his fortress carved into the mountainside, a grim satisfaction settled on his features. The whispers of shadow creatures from the south were concerning, but Draventhall was prepared. Their forges would continue to burn, their hammers would continue to fall, and their war machines stood ready to meet any threat that dared to encroach upon the seven kingdoms. The might of Draventhall was a tangible force, a promise of destruction that echoed through the mountain passes, a stark contrast to the ancient wisdom emanating from the silver city to the north.