Its upper slopes were laced with steaming fumaroles and miniature craters whose warmth melted the recent snowfall. Its rough summit was lost in a cloud bank that was lit from below by the rising sun, creating the illusion of magma-glow. The Green Dragon had not erupted in several thousand years, though; spellcasters from an age long dead had tamed and shaped the fiery mountain, attuning it to their purposes and rendering it safe. As safe as it could be, for a magic-ridden, active volcano filled with bolt holes and protective traps created to shelter royalty in times of unrest. That it was also rumored to be the ancient home of mythical dragons just added to its dark and dangerous mystery. The base of the mountain was narrow and nearly circular, and its surrounding hills and forests were free from villages and cultivated fields. Only a few roads wound their way through its red, rocky soil. That was just one of the reasons it made an excellent location for Dzur i’Oth’s stronghold, beneath the ancient Dragon Temple that clung to the mountain’s rocky slopes.
