The Koki is often called the RIver of Life. Invisible, it manifests in all forms and manners, but mostly into the Kamis, the invisible spirits of the Dragonian Kingdom. Servants of the dark Koki are often terrifying and poorly understood practitioners of very powerful arcanic techniques, capable of the most prodigious feats. For that they are feared and respected.
Most folks believe that the dark koki is some kind of perverted branch of the Koki itself, polluted or corrupted somehow, manifesting in sinister kamis that the servant learn to dominate. The truth is very far from these folks tales., for the Dark Koki doesn’t exist. The power of its servants is the power of the Void, of the absence of life, the non-existence, the very negation of reality.
Maybe folks knows that, and prefer a reassuring tale to a terrifying truth.
Extreme focus is require to pilot a dragonian airship. There is no mechanical commands, consoles, gears or machines. Everything is operated with chi string from experienced user. The most skilled of them even use toes and each fingertips.
This is a highly dangerous task, one mistake and the weight of the hull would literally crush you.
The Airships of the dragonian Kingdom have no balloons, nor propellers. They are made from the finest and rarest windwood, They tends to be quite small, and fins, propelled by wind kamis summoned by wind users. The Fumetsu no Kirofune is quite the exception. It’s massive, immense, imposing. He is not propelled by regular wind kamis, but by the power of the Dark Koki.
No airship car rival its speeds and power when cruising the sea of cloud under the two blood moons.
Upon his throne at the foot of the ever-blooming Tree of Tife, the Dragon King is hearing a delegation coming from a far province. His strange yet loyal counselors respectfully assists him in his decisions. The royal Kirin is asleep, with its eyes wide open, brilliantly glowing.
The King look human, but even the most chi-sensorialy deprived peoples are overwhelmed in His presence by his massive connection with the Koki, the invisible river of souls that flows from every life in this world.
The second plateau of the capital of the Dragonian Kingdom is filled with artisans, monks, samurais and priests. Every one of them is pursuing his kung-fu, that is not martial arts but the pursuing of mastery in a particular field of expertise. Light and shadows are clearly separated and yet always mixed. Accessing the last plateau is quite difficult, for it is heavily guarded and fortified. Sometimes, Sakura petals from the ever-blooming cherry Tree of Life flies by. This is a common gift tourist get to catch upon visiting.
The royal city of the Dragonian Kingdom is located between two massive chains of mountains. Three gigantic unnatural steps stretches across the valley, culminating to a giant cherry tree, perpetually blossoming. The lower plateau is filled with rice fields and cultures. Hovering above the second plateau is the monks district. Time seems to slows here, everything is quiet, peaceful, orderly. Even the winds seems to blows silently as life repeats with the daily chore.
Zaibaker is a flying fortress of the Duk’zarit. Massive, rough, dark. Constructions are sometimes made of dragon bones, defenses and claws protruding everywhere as if they wanted to scorch the skies. This huge construction looks organic, as if it were some kind of somber leviathan, ominously creeping on foreign territories.
Crowded, dark, loud… the lower plateau of Trokkenheim looks like a haven for thieves and neerdowell. This perception is in part true, there is dark alley where gold does evaporate quickly, and accidents do happens here and then. But for the last majority of visitors and locals, the constant presence of well trained guards guarantee a safe place for those that know when to shut their mouths.