King Hermon Cordillera knew everyone called him the Mountain King. It was a fitting name, so he didn’t mind. His castle was like an illusion that tricked the eyes. Built into the peaks of the Rames, and blending perfectly with the grey rock and dark clouds, the magnificent structure was even more camouflaged under often brooding skies. This, of course, was the obvious reason behind the name, a way people could talk about him without allegations of treason. He knew his being called the Mountain King also came from fear, and maybe a sliver of respect. While he’d never heard rumor of civil unrest, if there were ever an uprising he would crush everyone involved, the people within the Osiris Realm knew as much. If pressed, content, he would settle for ruling over nothing but rock and his valley
