Legend: Legacy of the Dragons Forum

the final figth between the 2 legendary dragons, sheara the goddess has choose a side

Once upon a time, there was an elderly centurion named Mekden, known for his numerous battles and indomitable courage. After years spent fighting for the Empire, Mekden decided to retire to a small stone house outside the village, on the slopes of a mountain. He wanted to live in peace, far from wars and the responsibilities that had marked his youth. His dwelling was modest, surrounded by ancient trees and hills that in winter were covered in snow, creating a serene and silent landscape.


One winter night, a storm descended upon the mountain. The wind howled through the beams of the roof, and snow fell heavily, turning the outside world into a white desert. Mekden, sitting by the fire, watched the flames dance, reflecting on memories of the past. It was then that a sinister hissing sound interrupted his thoughts: a noise of claws scraping on stone.


He rose slowly, gripping the sword he had never abandoned, not even in his old age. Through the foggy windows, he saw shadows moving: they were giant spiders, horrible creatures prowling around his house. Mekden knew these monsters were dangerous, and their thirst for blood was insatiable.


Without hesitation, he barricaded the door and windows with wooden planks, but the spiders were too many. With a strength he had never thought possible at his age, the centurion faced the beasts with the same determination he had as a young soldier. The spiders broke through the barricades and poured inside, but Mekden, with precise and fierce strikes, managed to slay many. The battle was furious, and Mekden, despite the cold and exhaustion, fought as if every blow was his last breath.


The night seemed endless, but finally, when dawn began to tint the sky a pale orange, Mekden found himself alone, standing among the bodies of the spiders. The house was in ruins, but the centurion had survived. Wounded and tired, he stepped outside, where the snow continued to fall silently. He looked at the village in the distance, its faint lights inviting him to return among men. Mekden smiled faintly: he was still alive, and despite everything, his warrior spirit had never dimmed.


He decided that he would repair his house and continue living there, in that solitude interrupted only by the breath of the mountain. Because Mekden, the centurion, knew that peace was not the absence of battles but the strength to face them, even when alone.




"The image is in the attachment, I don't understand how to upload it

W mrocznych zakątkach Faeo zaczęły dziać się niepokojące rzeczy. Plotki o dziwnych zjawiskach i potworach pojawiających się na terenach przygranicznych królestwa Ludzi docierały do miast i wsi, budząc niepokój wśród mieszkańców. Wędrowcy mówili o znikających karawanach, tajemniczych błyskach światła na nocnym niebie i niespotykanych, przerażających stworzeniach.
Trejsi, doświadczona wojowniczka i mistrzyni miecza, nie mogła pozostawić tych wiadomości bez odpowiedzi. Jako jedna z najodważniejszych wojowniczek swojego klanu, zgłosiła się na ochotnika do zbadania sprawy. Wyruszyła w samotną podróż na północne granice, gdzie słyszano najwięcej o dziwnych wydarzeniach.
Dotarła do opuszczonej wioski, gdzie spotkała starego mędrca, który szeptem opowiedział jej o tajemniczym portalu, otwierającym się w środku Gór Mrozu. „To przejście do innego świata — miejsca pełnego ciemności, demonów i pradawnych smoków” — ostrzegł ją mędrzec, wyjawiając, że to tam zaczęło się zło, które teraz przenika do świata Faeo.
Nie tracąc czasu, Trejsi ruszyła w stronę gór. Gdy dotarła na miejsce, zauważyła świecącą wyrwę w ziemi, z której emanowała dziwna, złowroga aura. Obok niej stał Strażnik Chaosu, którego zadaniem było pilnowanie portalu. Trejsi bez wahania stanęła do walki. Używając swoich umiejętności bojowych, pokonała Strażnika, ale gdy portal zaczął drżeć, wiedziała, że to dopiero początek.

Przekraczając magiczne przejście, Trejsi znalazła się w świecie pełnym chaosu i ciemności. Na jej drodze stanął Demon Płomieni, ziejący ogniem i grozą. Jednak z determinacją i odwagą, wojowniczka powaliła potwora. Dotarła w końcu do serca mroku, gdzie natknęła się na pradawnego smoka, Erifariusa — strażnika tego przeklętego miejsca.
Trejsi stanęła przed smokiem z mieczem gotowym do walki, wiedząc, że jej zadaniem jest zamknąć portal i odesłać zło z powrotem do otchłani. Po zaciekłej walce, pełnej magii i ognia, zdołała ranić Erifariusa i zmusić go do odwrotu. Z pomocą starego zaklęcia, zamknęła portal, a złowrogie stworzenia wróciły do swojej domeny.
Wracając do swojej wioski, Trejsi została okrzyknięta bohaterką. Ale wiedziała, że zło nigdy nie śpi, a ona musi być zawsze gotowa, by stanąć do walki w obronie swojego świata. <img src="blob:https://warofdragons.com/cb528739-4d48-46a5-ba7d-48f18ada5d08" wcf_src="blob:[url]https://warofdragons.com/cb528739-4d48-46a5-ba7d-48f18ada5d08" alt="wysiwyg image" />[/url]

Prologue: The Awakening of Chaos

In the ancient world of Faeo, two races had long stood in opposition: the formidable Magmars, born from the deep volcanos, and the resilient Humans, who thrived in lands lush with trees, grass, and flowers. For centuries, an uneasy peace was maintained, with the Islands of Eternal Frost—a frozen archipelago separating the Magmars’ scorching lands from the Humans’ verdant territories—acting as a natural barrier between the two civilizations.

But peace is a fragile thing, easily shattered.

High above in the heavens, Sheara, the great dragon goddess, stirred from her eternal slumber deep within the heart of Faeo. Her scales shimmered with every color of the storm, and her eyes blazed with the power of both creation and destruction. For eons, Sheara had watched over Faeo, ensuring the delicate balance between order and chaos. But now, the winds of change carried with them a prophecy—a prophecy that foretold a cataclysmic war, one that would reshape the world and determine the fate of all its inhabitants.

The time had come for fire and earth to clash.

Chapter 1: The Call to Arms

In the blazing heart of Dartrong, the city of the Magmars, preparations for war were in full swing. The city, built in a ring of active volcanoes, glowed with an ever-present fiery light. Rivers of molten lava flowed through its streets, and the air shimmered with heat.

Gidver, the leader of the Magmar forces, stood at the edge of the Great Forge, where the finest weapons in all of Faeo were crafted. He was a towering figure, his skin the color of cooling magma, his eyes glowing like embers. He had led his people through many trials, but he knew that this war would be their greatest challenge yet.

"Striagorn!" Gidver called out, his voice echoing through the forge.

From the shadows of the volcanoes emerged a massive form. Striagorn, the great red dragon, had guarded Dartrong for millennia. His scales were the color of molten iron, and his breath was a searing inferno. As he approached, the ground trembled beneath his weight.

"Gidver," rumbled Striagorn, lowering his head to meet the Magmar leader's gaze. "The time has come, hasn't it?"

"Yes," Gidver replied, his tone grim. "The Humans are preparing for war. They march even now, crossing the Abode Ice Islands to reach our lands. We must be ready to stop them."

Striagorn's eyes narrowed. "They dare cross the ice? They will find only death in our flames."

"Do not underestimate them," Gidver warned. "The Humans are tenacious, and they have their own strength. But with you on our side, and with the might of our people, we will burn them from our lands."

Meanwhile, far to the north, in the city of O'Delvays, the Humans were also preparing for battle. O'Delvays, a stronghold surrounded by lush forests and rolling meadows, stood tall against the backdrop of nature’s beauty. The air was filled with the scent of pine and wildflowers, and the walls of the city were built from stone and wood, sturdy and strong.

Damirus, the leader of the Human forces, stood atop the highest tower, gazing out at the distant horizon where the ice islands lay. He was a seasoned warrior, his face marked by countless battles. His armor, a masterpiece of northern craftsmanship, was forged from steel and adorned with symbols of protection and strength.

"Erifarius!" Damirus called out, his voice carrying on the wind.

A shadow passed over him, and moments later, a great white dragon descended from the sky. Erifarius, the guardian of O'Delvays, was as majestic as he was powerful. His scales were as white as the purest snow, and his wings cast a wide shadow over the city below.

"Damirus," Erifarius greeted the Human leader, his voice deep and resonant. "The time has come."

"Yes," Damirus replied, his expression hardening. "The Magmars march to war, and we must meet them on the battlefield. We cannot allow their fire to consume our lands."

Erifarius nodded, his eyes gleaming with determination. "I will lead our forces across the Islands of Eternal Frost. The journey will be perilous, but we will reach the lands of the Magmars and bring them the wrath of the north."

Damirus tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, Heartseeker, feeling the reassuring weight of its enchanted blade. "We will fight with all we have. The fate of Faeo depends on it."

Chapter 2: The Perilous Crossing

The journey across the Abode Ice Islands was fraught with danger. The islands, a frozen chain that separated the Human lands from the realms of the Magmars, were a place of treacherous beauty. Towering icebergs loomed over narrow passages, and the frozen sea beneath was a constant threat, ready to claim any who dared to cross its brittle surface.

But the Human army pressed on, led by Damirus and guided by Erifarius, who soared above them, his keen eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. The cold was biting, but the Humans, accuomed to the temperate climates of their homeland, were resilient. They knew they could not turn back.

As they traversed the islands, the Humans faced not only the harsh elements but also the dark magic of the Magmar witch, Brugilda. Loyal servants of the Magmars, they had foreseen the Humans' advance. From their hidden lair deep in the mountains of Dartrong, they cast sinister spells upon the ice, summoning blizzards and creating illusions to confuse and mislead the Human forces.

"Hold your ground!" Damirus shouted, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. "Do not let their magic break your spirit!"

The Humans pressed on, their determination as unyielding as the earth beneath their feet. Erifarius flew ahead, his breath carving paths through the storm, his presence a beacon of hope. But the witch magic was strong, and they began to summon creatures from the depths of the ice—yeti, towering beings of ice and dark sorcery.

The Humans fought valiantly, their swords and spears striking at the snowy forms of the yeti, but for every creature they shattered, another seemed to rise in its place. It was as if the very ice was against them, testing their resolve with every step.

But Damirus refused to yield. With Erifarius by his side, the Humans pushed through the storm, their will unbroken. Slowly but surely, they made their way across the treacherous ice islands, their eyes set on the fiery lands of the Magmars that awaited them on the other side.

Chapter 3: The Clash of Titans

As the Human army emerged from the Islands of Eternal Frost, they were met with the blazing heat of the Magmar lands. The transition from cold to scorching heat was jarring, but the Humans were resolute. Before them lay the city of Dartrong, a fortress of fire and stone, where the Magmar forces awaited.

Gidver stood at the gates of Dartrong, flanked by his warriors, their bodies glowing with the heat of the lava that flowed beneath their skin. Above them, Striagorn circled, his eyes locked on the advancing Humans. The sky above was a darkened red, the sun obscured by ash and smoke from the surrounding volcanoes.

"This is where it ends," Gidver muttered, his gaze fixed on Damirus, who led the Human army from the front.

Damirus stopped a short distance from the gates, his sword drawn, its blade gleaming in the firelight. "Gidver! Today, we end this war!"

Gidver raised his hammer, a weapon forged from the heart of a volcano. "You will find no mercy here, Human. Our fire will consume you."

At that moment, Striagorn and Erifarius roared, their voices shaking the very earth as they took to the sky. The great dragons clashed in mid-air, a storm of fire and frost erupting between them. Their battle was a sight to behold, two titans locked in a struggle that mirrored the war below.

On the ground, the two armies collided. The Magmars fought with the fury of the earth itself, their weapons blazing with molten fire. The Humans met them with the strength of the land, their swords and shields forged from the finest steel, their determination as solid as the mountains they hailed from.

The battle raged for hours, neither side willing to give an inch. The earth shook with the force of their conflict, and the sky was lit by the fiery breath of the dragons above. Gidver and Damirus, leaders of their people, fought with unmatched ferocity, each strike of their weapons echoing the ancient enmity between their races.

But as the battle reached its peak, a sudden silence fell over the battlefield. The ground beneath the warriors began to tremble, and a light brighter than any fire filled the sky. Both armies paused, turning their gaze upward as a colossal form descended from the heavens.

It was Sheara, the great dragon goddess, who had come to witness the final act of the prophecy. She descended from the heavens, her massive form dwarfing even the great dragons Striagorn and Erifarius. Her scales shimmered with every color, and her eyes blazed with an ancient power that made the very earth tremble.

The warriors on both sides fell to their knees, their weapons dropping to the ground as they gazed in awe at the divine being before them.

“Enough!” Her voice was like thunder, reverberating through the battlefield. “This war has gone on long enough. Faeo belongs to all who dwell within it—Magmar and Human alike.”

Sheara’s wings spread wide, casting a shadow over the entire battlefield. “Let there be peace between your peoples, or face the wrath of the heavens.”

Striagorn and Erifarius, sensing the will of their goddess, ceased their battle, descending to the ground beside their respective leaders.

Gidver and Damirus exchanged a long, weary look. They had fought fiercely, but now, in the presence of Sheara, they understood the futility of their conflict.

Slowly, Gidver lowered his hammer, and Damirus sheathed his sword. The war was over.



Epilogue: A New Dawn

Under Sheara’s watchful gaze, the Magmars and Humans forged a new alliance. The Abode Ice Islands, once a symbol of division, became a place of face the monsters of these lands. The dragons, Striagorn and Erifarius, returned to their respective realms, but their bond remained. They had fought as enemies but would now protect Faeo together as guardians of the peace. Sheara, satisfied with the balance restored, returned to her eternal slumber, knowing that the world of Faeo was safe once more.
And so, a new era began, one of understanding. The fires of war had been extinguished, and in their place, a brighter future for all who called Faeo home.

The Assault of the Skies

In a world ravaged by war, the skies darkened as the two ancient races, the Magmars and the Humans, clashed in a decisive battle. The lands, already scarred by centuries of conflict, trembled under the weight of the armies marching towards their fate.

At the forefront of the Magmars, flames erupted from the earth’s cracks, enveloping their warriors in an infernal aura. With skin hardened by fire and eyes glowing with ancient hatred, the Magmars advanced with unstoppable force. Their leader, a colossal figure wreathed in flames, raised his massive axe, its blade forged in the very fires of the underworld.

On the Human side, the warriors fought with the desperate courage of those who knew the fate of the world rested on their shoulders. With gleaming armor and swords imbued with ancient magic, they withstood the fury of the Magmars. Above them, human mages cast spells that tore through the air with flashes of light, trying to halt the tide of destruction that approached.

But in the skies, an even more terrible battle raged. Dragons from both sides soared through the air, unleashing fire and lightning. Their roars shook the very foundations of the world, and their shadows loomed over the armies fighting below. Each dragon represented the power and will of their race; they were more than mere beasts—they were the living symbols of the eternal war.

As the battle raged on land and in the skies, the world seemed on the brink of total destruction. In that moment, the darkest and most powerful forces were unleashed, in an attempt to decide once and for all which race would dominate. But both the Magmars and the Humans knew that in the end, victory would come at a terrible price, and the world they knew might not survive this final confrontation.

The outcome of the battle was unwritten, and the heroes of both sides knew that only with courage, sacrifice, and determination could they hope to tip the scales in their favor. As the sun faded behind a sky shrouded in dark clouds, the war of dragons continued, in a struggle for survival that would echo in legends for generations.

The Fearless Warrior MelikBEY and His Savage Skeletal Dragon Mount "Dzerug"In the depths of dark forests, beneath the shadow of towering mountains, there reigned a warrior known as the Fearless MelikBEY. Renowned for his courage and sharp intellect, MelikBEY was a force to be reckoned with; his enemies trembled at the sight of his armor, while his allies felt secure in his presence. But what truly set MelikBEY apart from other warriors was his legendary mount, the savage skeletal dragon known as Dzerug.
Dzerug was a rare species, a creature raised from the burial ground of the ancient Great Lizard. Long lost in the eternal twilight of the grave, this beast had been resurrected and bound to MelikBEY’s will. Once bridled and saddled, Dzerug became a fearsome force of nature, fiercely loyal to his master. Driven by an insatiable desire to reclaim the time lost in his sepulchral slumber, Dzerug obeyed every command with unyielding ferocity. When unleashed upon MelikBEY's foes, Dzerug tormented them with his razor-sharp fangs and poisoned them with deadly curses.
One day, MelikBEY and Dzerug embarked on a journey to the Black Forest, a place ruled by the brutal Magmar race. The Magmars were a cruel and savage enemy, known for their hatred of humans and their destructive nature. As MelikBEY ventured deeper into the treacherous forest, Dzerug's eyes burned with an intense fire. Everything beneath his shadow quaked with the cold breath of death.
Suddenly, a thunderous roar echoed through the trees. Wild bears, under the control of the Magmars, charged at them from the heart of the forest. MelikBEY drew his sword, and Dzerug spread his powerful wings, soaring into the air. As the bears attacked with their massive bodies, Dzerug's bony wings sliced through the air, shaking the ground as he landed.
Dzerug unleashed his poisonous spells from his maw, weakening the bears. MelikBEY, with swift precision, struck down his enemies. His sword gleamed like a fiery blaze, piercing through the bears' thick hides. Dzerug clamped his fangs around one bear, shattering its bones and bringing it to the ground. Another bear attempted to strike at MelikBEY's steel armor, but he swiftly outmaneuvered the beast, taking it down with a final, decisive blow.
Victorious, MelikBEY and Dzerug pressed on toward the Magmar stronghold. As they confronted the Magmars deep within the forest, Dzerug’s dark magic poisoned their souls. With each swing of MelikBEY's sword, the Magmars fell one by one. Dzerug, driven by the fury of centuries spent in darkness, attacked the enemies with relentless vengeance.
In the end, MelikBEY and Dzerug annihilated the Magmars. The forest was now under their control once more. The skies cleared, the dark clouds dispersed, and MelikBEY's name continued to shine among the legends of great warriors. As for Dzerug, having reclaimed the time he had lost, he remained steadfast at MelikBEY's side, flying with unwavering loyalty.

History repeats itself. It all circles around, or is it? During the dawn of chaos, many have suffered, bloodshed cause the annihilation of the other and creation of a new one. As time passes by, humans and magmars would unite to defeat the forces of chaos setting aside their indifferences that resulted withstanding the army of destruction. And as a new moon rises, whats left are those that would rebuild, and those that wants to make a change. Somewhere in the borders of the land of Ogriy and Khair, there lived a creature named Amargo in which it did not know how it got into the world. It has features of a human, an elf, a magmar and mystic purple scales on its few parts of its body. Confused with his being, he dwelled with different races, humans, magmars, orcs, dwarfs, fairies, elves, elementals and even the army of chaos. Studied every culture it could find and their nature, yet it couldnt feel that it belonged. on its many years of search, it stumbled upon a stone frozen cave. Using the magic he learned from the magmars, he melted the iced cap that covers the entrance. There it saw an inscribed writings of old. Cuirous, Amargo used its knowledge it learned from the wisest beings of the world and deciphered the inscription. "I'r wak b'ah tu, suh'n dek Ahnun, mar gho a nun khal sheara, ek val lu mak tun" It understand that this was a language of the old Gods that may have been frozen during in the war upon the creation of Gods. Amargo took a copy of the writings and fled as the cave was about to be collpase. It continued its search through each land in hopes it can understand what it discovered. Upon its journey, it met Striagorn. Amargo felt a connection with the dragon and communicated telepathically. Striagorn was in shocked and asked "What are you?". " I am not sure as to what i am, but i have a vague memory of what was". Striagorn offered if it could take Amargo to Shaera and find answers. Amargo then knew it was the right thing to do. They flew into the skies and reached the land where sheara resides. Sheara felt a strange surge of magic in her. Striagorn greeted her and said "we have a visitor, and might need a guidance".


Amargo started the conversation with "I knew you and yet i dont". Sheara felt something was off and the skies turned to the color of blood. Sheara casted its powers and resonated with Amargo. Sheara is confused if this was Amargo's doing. Amargo replied that it doesnt know if it was itself. Then the skies lit up and came down the heavens an army of unknown creatures ready to attack. Striagorn casts a loud cry to warn the lands and Erifarius heared it and knew whats was coming. The lands of Ogriy and Khair was confused but the wise of the lands know this was a warning, a warning of the end of the world. Invaders of the from the sky threathens the world of Faeo so Sheara sent a message to every living creature to defend themselves and protect those that cannot.


Amargo talked to Sheara and said it found a message from the past which Sheara's name was in it and it didnt know what it meaned. It gave Sheara the message and she understood. "To the future, an army awaits, amargo must not find Sheara or the world will end".


In the past, before The great god Or'veron casted tallar into non-being, Tallaar managed to send a fraction of his soul into the world in hopes that someday if it feeds enough war and resonates with a power of a god, it shall become him and open the gates of an enivetable doom upon the world. However Or'Veron knew this and sent an inscription that would one day be found, it may prevent total destruction.


Back in the present, Amargo felt something is becoming of it, a consioucness taking over its body. Amargo told Sheara that something is stealing its body, some god it doesnt know. Sheara knew that this might have been the warning sent. So she casted out all of her powers to freeze time for a moment and talked to the great dragons. "Striagorn, Erifarius, I shall offer my self to prevent amargo becoming something that could end us all", "Tell your people to defend the lands and after that, i will send your consioucness back in time for you to warn our people the danger that will come and find Amargo all over the lands to give it the answers that it needs" "Only then we can prevent the end of our time". Sheara fades into the light with amargo and the war that will end the world has started.

Vor langer Zeit, in einer Ära, die nur noch in Legenden überliefert wird, ereignete sich das größte Wunder der Welt Feo: die Ankunft von Paradise. Die Erde bebte, und die Sterne funkelten heller als je zuvor, als das sagenumwobene Königreich aus dem Nichts erschien. Die Bewohner von Feo, die in ständiger Furcht vor mächtigen Wesen und dunklen Magiern lebten, staunten nicht schlecht, als eine strahlende Armee aus dem Herzen des Paradise hervorkam, um ihre Welt zu erobern – nicht mit Tyrannei, sondern mit Mut, Weisheit und Gerechtigkeit.
Die tapferen Krieger des Paradise stellten sich den größten Herausforderungen. Sie zogen durch unberührte Wälder, durchquerten endlose Wüsten und wagten sich sogar in die tiefsten Schattenreiche. Ihre Mission: Feo zu schützen und in eine neue Ära des Friedens und des Wohlstands zu führen.
Mit jedem Sieg errang das Paradise nicht nur Gold und Schätze, sondern auch Ehre und Respekt. Es war nicht das Gold, das ihre Macht definierte, sondern die Herzen der Bewohner, die sie für sich gewannen. Die mächtigsten Monster, die das Land verwüsteten, wurden erbarmungslos niedergerungen. Drachen, die seit Jahrhunderten das Land terrorisierten, fielen unter den Hieben der legendären Krieger. Und die Mags – jene finsteren Zauberer, deren Macht aus dunklen Dimensionen gespeist wurde – wurden in die Flucht geschlagen, ihre Schrecken gebrochen.
Doch die wahre Magie des Paradise lag in der Veränderung, die es mit sich brachte. Durch seine Geburt wurde Feo selbst zu einem Paradies. Blumen begannen dort zu blühen, wo zuvor verbrannte Erde lag, Flüsse wurden klar und rein, und die Luft duftete nach Hoffnung. Die Bewohner, die einst in Angst lebten, begannen zu träumen und sich eine bessere Zukunft vorzustellen.
Von den höchsten Gipfeln bis zu den tiefsten Tälern wurde das Land neu geboren. Die Geschichten von den Taten des Paradise und seiner tapferen Helden wurden in die Sterne geschrieben und in den Herzen der Menschen für alle Zeiten bewahrt.
Feo war nicht länger nur eine Welt voller Gefahren. Es wurde ein Ort, wo Mut, Gemeinschaft und Gerechtigkeit regierten. Ein wahrhaftiges Paradise.

Quoted from "Parad1ze"

Vor langer Zeit, in einer Ära, die nur noch in Legenden überliefert wird, ereignete sich das größte Wunder der Welt Feo: die Ankunft von Paradise. Die Erde bebte, und die Sterne funkelten heller als je zuvor, als das sagenumwobene Königreich aus dem Nichts erschien. Die Bewohner von Feo, die in ständiger Furcht vor mächtigen Wesen und dunklen Magiern lebten, staunten nicht schlecht, als eine strahlende Armee aus dem Herzen des Paradise hervorkam, um ihre Welt zu erobern – nicht mit Tyrannei, sondern mit Mut, Weisheit und Gerechtigkeit.
Die tapferen Krieger des Paradise stellten sich den größten Herausforderungen. Sie zogen durch unberührte Wälder, durchquerten endlose Wüsten und wagten sich sogar in die tiefsten Schattenreiche. Ihre Mission: Feo zu schützen und in eine neue Ära des Friedens und des Wohlstands zu führen.
Mit jedem Sieg errang das Paradise nicht nur Gold und Schätze, sondern auch Ehre und Respekt. Es war nicht das Gold, das ihre Macht definierte, sondern die Herzen der Bewohner, die sie für sich gewannen. Die mächtigsten Monster, die das Land verwüsteten, wurden erbarmungslos niedergerungen. Drachen, die seit Jahrhunderten das Land terrorisierten, fielen unter den Hieben der legendären Krieger. Und die Mags – jene finsteren Zauberer, deren Macht aus dunklen Dimensionen gespeist wurde – wurden in die Flucht geschlagen, ihre Schrecken gebrochen.
Doch die wahre Magie des Paradise lag in der Veränderung, die es mit sich brachte. Durch seine Geburt wurde Feo selbst zu einem Paradies. Blumen begannen dort zu blühen, wo zuvor verbrannte Erde lag, Flüsse wurden klar und rein, und die Luft duftete nach Hoffnung. Die Bewohner, die einst in Angst lebten, begannen zu träumen und sich eine bessere Zukunft vorzustellen.
Von den höchsten Gipfeln bis zu den tiefsten Tälern wurde das Land neu geboren. Die Geschichten von den Taten des Paradise und seiner tapferen Helden wurden in die Sterne geschrieben und in den Herzen der Menschen für alle Zeiten bewahrt.
Feo war nicht länger nur eine Welt voller Gefahren. Es wurde ein Ort, wo Mut, Gemeinschaft und Gerechtigkeit regierten. Ein wahrhaftiges Paradise.

Bild:
#mce_temp_url#

In den tiefen Schluchten des **Feo-Reiches**, wo das ewige Kriegsgrollen zwischen den **Menschen** und den **Magmaren** nie zu verstummen schien, stand **Alec**, ein junger Krieger des menschlichen Reiches, am Rand des Waldes von **Khadon**. Der Morgen war kühl, doch das Blut in seinen Adern brannte. Heute war der Tag, an dem er die Flammen der Magmaren herausfordern würde.

Seit seiner Kindheit erzählte man ihm die Legenden der Magmaren — die feuerspeienden, steinernen Krieger aus der Glut der Vulkane, die nichts als Verwüstung und Chaos hinterließen. Alec hatte immer gewusst, dass es seine Bestimmung war, gegen diese uralte Bedrohung zu kämpfen. Die Narben der Schlachten, die sein Vater ihm zeigte, erinnerten ihn daran, dass Feo nie ohne Blutvergießen bestehen konnte.

Mit der Sonne, die sich langsam über den Horizont schob, zog Alec sein Schwert aus der Scheide, das silberne Metall schimmerte im ersten Licht des Tages. Sein Ziel war klar: der Magmar-Anführer **Kragor**, bekannt für seine gnadenlose Herrschaft und seine Flammenaura, die jeden in Asche verwandelte, der sich ihm näherte.

Alec bewegte sich durch das dicht bewaldete Gebiet, jeder Schritt vorsichtig, jede Bewegung kalkuliert. Die Luft begann sich zu verändern – sie wurde dicker, heißer. Er wusste, dass er sich der Grenze des Magmarengebiets näherte. In der Ferne erblickte er die roten, glühenden Rüstungen der Wachen. Sein Herzschlag beschleunigte sich, doch er hielt inne, seine Hand fest um den Schwertgriff geschlossen.

Plötzlich durchbrach ein schreckliches Gebrüll die Stille. Ein Magmar-Krieger, doppelt so groß wie Alec, trat aus den Schatten eines großen Felsens hervor. Seine Augen glühten vor Hass, und die Lava, die sich durch seine steinerne Haut zog, pulsierte bedrohlich.

"Für Kragor!", brüllte der Magmar und stürmte auf Alec zu. Die Zeit schien zu erstarren. Alec wich mit einer schnellen Bewegung aus, ließ sein Schwert durch die Luft tanzen und versuchte, eine Lücke in der Rüstung des Magmars zu finden. Doch die Hitze war unerträglich, als würde er gegen das Feuer selbst kämpfen. Jeder Schlag, den er führte, traf auf die steinerne Haut des Feindes und sprühte Funken.

Schweiß rann Alec über die Stirn, doch er ließ nicht nach. Ein Treffer, noch einer – schließlich fand er die Schwachstelle. Mit einem finalen, präzisen Hieb traf er den Magmar direkt in die Seite. Ein ohrenbetäubender Schrei ertönte, als der feurige Krieger zu Boden stürzte, seine Lava langsam erkaltete und er zu einem leblosen Felsen wurde.

Doch Alec wusste, dies war nur der Anfang. Tief im Herzen der Magmarenlande wartete Kragor – der wahre Feind. Alec blickte zum rauchenden Berg in der Ferne, die Heimat der Magmaren. Die Flammen würden bald gelöscht werden, das schwor er bei allem, was ihm heilig war.

Sein Abenteuer hatte gerade erst begonnen.



https://postimg.cc/ZCg1X80G

The Broken Truce

For centuries, the Humans of Ogriy and the Magmars of Khair fought an endless war. But deep within the ancient forests, an old power waited: the Sylfrith. Once guardians of balance, these nature-bound spirits, connected to the World Tree, vanished, leaving Faeo to descend into chaos. Their roots, which once sustained harmony, were now corrupted by the relentless war between Erifarius and Striagorn, the dragons of the Humans and Magmars. As destruction spread, an older threat began to awaken.


The Call of Queen Altheira

Queen Altheira of the Sylfrith felt the tremors at the heart of the World Tree. The chaotic magic enveloping Faeo was corrupting the sacred roots, threatening the existence of their race. Altheira knew the time had come for the Sylfrith to step out of the shadows. But they could no longer remain neutral. Choosing between the Humans and the Magmars was inevitable, as the war consumed Faeo. The Humans sought wisdom, while the Magmars wielded the destructive power of lava, capable of burning away the corruption.


The Shadow Assassin

As Altheira deliberated, Morghast, a mysterious assassin sent by an unknown force, infiltrated the Sylfrith. His mission: to steal an artifact hidden within the World Tree, the Heart of Faeo, a precious relic placed by Shanara, Sheara's twin sister, a crystal stone containing the pure magic of creation. In the wrong hands, the Heart could bring Faeo to the brink of total chaos. Blinded by ambition, Morghast didn’t realize he was being manipulated by a far more malevolent force.


The Battle Beneath the Roots

During the new moon, as Erifarius and Striagorn resumed their eternal duel, Morghast slipped into the Sylfrith sanctuary. Altheira, sensing the intrusion, called upon the World Tree’s power, but the assassin was ready. Using an ancient spell, he unleashed a portal of Chaos, allowing shadow creatures to flood the forest. Altheira and her Sylfrith fought bravely, but the forces of darkness were overwhelming.


When all seemed lost, a roar echoed through the valley: Erifarius and Striagorn, abandoning their duel, turned their might against the portal. With combined breaths of fire and light, the dragons sealed the rift, driving back the shadow creatures. But the Heart of Faeo had been damaged, and the World Tree now bore the indelible marks of Chaos.


As Altheira gazed upon the battlefield, she whispered, "The true enemy has yet to show its face."


The Uncertain Future

The battle over, the Sylfrith were weakened, but Altheira knew the real threat had not yet been revealed. Gazing upon the ashes of the forest and the Chaos-scarred roots, she declared:
"We will no longer remain in the shadows. We will observe Faeo, training alongside the Humans and the Magmars, not to join their wars, but to learn from their ways and teach them in return, to prepare ourselves. The true enemy is approaching, and when it shows itself, we will be ready."


She then added:
"We will teach all the brave inhabitants of Faeo who have reached level 11 the art of Essentia. This rare discipline, lost for centuries, allows us to draw from the primal force of nature. The Essentia will be represented by a new gauge, located just below that of mana, and will grant powerful and unique abilities, unleashed in the heat of battle. It is with this force that we will be able to face the forces of this mysterious enemy threatening our world."


---


Image Title : Queen Altheira of the Sylfrith standing proudly alongside a Sylfrith warrior

a guy woke up one day to fish since he was hungry, came across an empty house that looked big and had a evil vibe to it. he got curious and tried going inside and noticed that the door was closed, then he went home to get his weapon, when he was home he also thought about grabing his armor since a bad smell seemed to come off the house. once he was at the weird house again he slamed the door open and came inside, he heard a noise and thought it was a pig, something which he loved since you could see it on his weight. he ran that direction and kept finding doors, ladders. he got tired at one point and wanted to rest, he fell asleep and woke up to a strange noise in the next room, so he grabed his weapon and went there to see a huge group of undead knights. he went in panic but knew he could kill them all and thats what he did, at the end he had to admite that the pig idea was dumb and that the sound were the undeads and that by being greedy all you get is in trouble.

Quoted from "Parad1ze"

Vor langer Zeit, in einer Ära, die nur noch in Legenden überliefert wird, ereignete sich das größte Wunder der Welt Feo: die Ankunft von Paradise. Die Erde bebte, und die Sterne funkelten heller als je zuvor, als das sagenumwobene Königreich aus dem Nichts erschien. Die Bewohner von Feo, die in ständiger Furcht vor mächtigen Wesen und dunklen Magiern lebten, staunten nicht schlecht, als eine strahlende Armee aus dem Herzen des Paradise hervorkam, um ihre Welt zu erobern – nicht mit Tyrannei, sondern mit Mut, Weisheit und Gerechtigkeit.
Die tapferen Krieger des Paradise stellten sich den größten Herausforderungen. Sie zogen durch unberührte Wälder, durchquerten endlose Wüsten und wagten sich sogar in die tiefsten Schattenreiche. Ihre Mission: Feo zu schützen und in eine neue Ära des Friedens und des Wohlstands zu führen.
Mit jedem Sieg errang das Paradise nicht nur Gold und Schätze, sondern auch Ehre und Respekt. Es war nicht das Gold, das ihre Macht definierte, sondern die Herzen der Bewohner, die sie für sich gewannen. Die mächtigsten Monster, die das Land verwüsteten, wurden erbarmungslos niedergerungen. Drachen, die seit Jahrhunderten das Land terrorisierten, fielen unter den Hieben der legendären Krieger. Und die Mags – jene finsteren Zauberer, deren Macht aus dunklen Dimensionen gespeist wurde – wurden in die Flucht geschlagen, ihre Schrecken gebrochen.
Doch die wahre Magie des Paradise lag in der Veränderung, die es mit sich brachte. Durch seine Geburt wurde Feo selbst zu einem Paradies. Blumen begannen dort zu blühen, wo zuvor verbrannte Erde lag, Flüsse wurden klar und rein, und die Luft duftete nach Hoffnung. Die Bewohner, die einst in Angst lebten, begannen zu träumen und sich eine bessere Zukunft vorzustellen.
Von den höchsten Gipfeln bis zu den tiefsten Tälern wurde das Land neu geboren. Die Geschichten von den Taten des Paradise und seiner tapferen Helden wurden in die Sterne geschrieben und in den Herzen der Menschen für alle Zeiten bewahrt.
Feo war nicht länger nur eine Welt voller Gefahren. Es wurde ein Ort, wo Mut, Gemeinschaft und Gerechtigkeit regierten. Ein wahrhaftiges Paradise.

Quoted from "Parad1ze"

The image is missing, please add it correctly or ask any Jester to help you with this or follow this guide:https://warofdragons.com/forum/index.php…&threadID=36423

Quoted from "Parad1ze"

Bild-Link: https://ibb.co/jzXbPBv

The wind howled through the skeletal remains of the city, a mournful symphony for the fallen. A lone figure stood atop the highest tower, silhouetted against the blood-red moon. He was one of the first magmars, his armor forged from the very essence of darkness, his helmet a twisted mockery of a human skull. His name was pudzian, and his heart was a frozen wasteland.

pudzian had once been a noble knight, renowned for his valor and unwavering loyalty. But a betrayal, as cold and sharp as a winter's wind, had shattered his world. His leader, consumed by ambition, had ordered the massacre of pudzian's family, leaving him a hollow shell of his former self.

Driven by vengeance, pudzian had sought the power to break his chains. He had ventured into the spectral Expanse, a realm high in the sky, and made a pact with god sheara. The price was fair, his humanity, his very essence. But he didn't care. He craved power, the power to make the king pay for his sins, the power to bathe the world in the flames of his retribution.

Now, pudzian was a weapon of destruction, a nightmare given form. His blade, forged from the finest steal, hummed with a malevolent energy. His eyes, once blue and filled with hope, now burned with a cold, infernal fire. He had become one of the magmars he used to call enemies, but he still remembered the pain, the betrayal, the burning rage that fueled him.

He descended from the tower, his footsteps echoing through the deserted streets. He moved like a shadow, silent and deadly. He knew the king's castle, its every secret passage, every hidden chamber. He had served him a long time, and now he would use that knowledge to bring him down.

The king, oblivious to the approaching doom, held a lavish feast in his grand hall. He reveled in his power, surrounded by his sycophantic court. pudzian slipped through the shadows, his presence unseen, his purpose unwavering.

He found the king in his private chambers, surrounded by guards. The king, a bloated, decadent man, chuckled at a joke told by one of his courtiers. Kael raised his blade, the blade that had tasted the blood of countless enemies, the blade that now thirsted for the king's life.

The king, finally sensing the presence of death, turned, his face contorted with fear. But it was too late. pudzian moved with the speed of a tiger, his blade flashing like a bolt of lightning. The king's scream was cut short as pudzian plunged his blade into his heart.

The king's guards, taken by surprise, rushed forward, but they were no match for pudzian's uncontrollable fury. He cut them down with a chilling efficiency, their cries swallowed by the howling wind.

As the last guard fell, pudzian stood over the king's body, his face a mask of cold, unfeeling hatred. He had fulfilled his promise, his vengeance complete. But the victory felt hollow, a bitter taste in his mouth. The fire of his rage had consumed him, leaving only ashes and despair.

He turned and walked away, leaving behind the carnage, the shattered remains of a life he could never reclaim. He was once the most trusted servant, now a creature of darkness, forever bound to the depths of an active volcano. His vengeance was complete, but his heart remained a frozen wasteland, forever haunted by the ghost of the man he once was.

Once upon a time, in a world where Magmars and humans coexisted, there was a great war that tore apart the land. The conflict arose between two powerful factions: the Magmar, a race of rage and terror, and the Humans, skilled warriors who excelled in strategy and innovation.

The tension between the Magmar and Humans had been simmering for centuries, rooted in ancient disagreements and territorial disputes. Each side believed they were the rightful owners of the land, and as the population grew, it became increasingly difficult to find a peaceful resolution.

The Magmar, with their majestic fire-scaled bodies, possessed immense strength and the ability to conjure flame storms that could decimate entire armies. Their leader, Lord Ignis, ruled with an iron fist and yearned for complete dominance over the land.

On the other side, the Humans, renowned for their skill in swordsmanship and archery, were led by King Edmund, a wise and compassionate ruler. King Edmund saw the importance of cooperation and sought a peaceful coexistence with the Magmar, but his efforts were met with skepticism and disdain.

Amidst growing tensions, both sides inflated their armies and fortified their kingdoms, preparing for the inevitable clash. As the days passed, reports of skirmishes and attacks became more frequent, igniting a wildfire of hatred and animosity.

Eventually, a spark ignited the flame that would engulf both civilizations. A group of Magmar extremists, determined to seize power, launched a surprise assault on one of the Human cities, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. King Edmund was infuriated, feeling betrayed by the Magmar who had once promised peace.

With emotions running high, both sides mobilized their armies, ready to wage war. The Human soldiers donned their gleaming armor, sharpened their weapons, and braced themselves for the upcoming battle. The Magmar, their burning rage matched only by their fiery nature, took to the skies, their roars echoing across the land.

The war was brutal and merciless. Skies darkened with ash and flame, while the ground trembled beneath the weight of clashing armies. It seemed as though the entire world was consumed by chaos and destruction. Villages were left in ruins, families torn apart, and countless lives lost.

As the battles raged on, a voice of reason emerged from within the chaos. A wise elder from the Magmar clan, named Elder Ember, approached King Edmund with a proposition for a truce. Both sides had suffered immense losses and realized the futility of the war. Peace was the only way forward.

With caution and skepticism, King Edmund and Elder Ember met at a neutral ground to discuss terms of the truce. They acknowledged that the root cause of the conflict was a lack of understanding and empathy. Thus, they agreed to establish a council, consisting of representatives from both Magmar and Humans, to resolve disputes peacefully in the future.

The war finally came to an end, but the scars left behind ran deep. Rebuilding the broken cities and healing the wounded would take time, but a glimmer of hope appeared amidst the rubble. The idea of coexistence began to take root, and slowly, a new era of understanding between Magmar and Humans began to flourish.

Though it would take generations to fully heal the wounds of war, the tale of the War between Magmar and Humans would forever serve as a reminder of the devastating consequences of hatred and the possibility of finding peace even in the face of destruction.

Ps: all grammar fails , you can keep it, my englisch is not the yellow from the egg

Inmitten der rauchenden Weiten des Feuertals lebten KatRhino und Firefallz, ein Paar, das die Hitze der Erde und die Flammen des Himmels ebenso in sich trug wie die brennende Leidenschaft für ihre geflügelten Gefährten – die Corvusse. Diese großen, majestätischen Vögel mit glänzend schwarzen Federn und einer beachtlichen Spannweite waren einst die stolzen Reittiere der Könige und Krieger. Doch die Welt hatte sich verändert, und die Corvusse, einst ein Symbol von Ehre und Stärke, wurden vergessen.
KatRhino und Firefallz hatten sich bewusst für ein Leben in Abgeschiedenheit entschieden. Das Feuertal, ein Land aus brodelnder Lava, scharfen Klippen und schwefelhaltigen Winden, war seit Generationen die Heimat ihrer Familie. Hier wuchs das Paar auf, umgeben von den mächtigen Corvussen, die ihr Leben bestimmten. In den goldenen Zeiten der alten Reiche waren diese Vögel gefragter als jedes andere Reittier. Sie flogen schneller als der Wind, ihre Intelligenz und Treue unübertroffen. Die Magmaren hatten sie wegen ihrer eleganten Bewegungen und dem mystischen Wesen, das ihnen innewohnte, verehrt.
Doch die Welt hatte sich weitergedreht. Neue Reittiere waren in Mode gekommen – elende Landgänger mit Fell statt prächtigem Federkleid und so teuer obendrein. Komische Drachen und Katzen ersetzten zunehmend die natürlichen Geschöpfe die einst neben den uhrsprünglichen Sorbs als was besonderes galten. Die Corvusse, einst ein Zeichen von Adel und Weisheit, wurden nun als Relikte einer vergangenen Ära betrachtet, ein Überbleibsel, das keinen Platz in der neuen, schnelllebigen Welt fand.
Trotzdem hielten KatRhino und Firefallz an ihrer Leidenschaft fest. Jeden Tag, unter der glutroten Sonne, pflegten sie ihre Corvusse, lehrten sie, flogen mit ihnen durch die rauen Winde des Feuertals und fütterten sie unentwegt mit Nuggets . Die Liebe, die sie für die Tiere empfanden, war unerschütterlich, und sie hegten die Hoffnung, dass eines Tages jemand kommen würde, der den wahren Wert der Corvusse erneut erkennen würde. ( 13er Corvus pls )
„Weißt du noch“, sagte KatRhino eines Abends, als sie zusammen auf der Veranda ihres bescheidenen Hauses saßen, die glühenden Risse des Erdreichs unter ihren Füßen, „wie die Leute sich um die Corvusse rissen?“
Firefallz nickte. „Ja. Sie wurden wie Könige behandelt. Ich erinnere mich an die Tipps die nur die weisesten alles Magmaren gaben um einen Corvus aufzuziehen. Auf den Märkten konnten selbst die besten und reichsten Spieler keinen Corvus kaufen denn der Corvus suchte sich seinen Reiter selbst aus und nur mit viel Mühe und Aufwand gelingt es ein Ei zum schlüpfen zu bringen. Ihr Anmut, ihre Kraft… niemand konnte sie übertreffen.“
Sie schauten beide in die Ferne, wo ihre Corvusse in der Abenddämmerung Kreise zogen. Die Vögel waren mehr als nur Reittiere für sie – sie waren Verbündete, Freunde, und in gewisser Weise Spiegelbilder ihrer eigenen, oft unverstandenen Existenz als Magmaren. Auch KatRhino und Firefallz waren anders, nicht den Erwartungen der Gesellschaft entsprechend, aber in ihrer Andersartigkeit hatten sie eine tiefe Stärke gefunden.
„Manchmal wünschte ich, die Magmaren würden sich an die alten Zeiten erinnern“, seufzte Firefallz leise. „Damals, als die Corvusse nicht nur als Tiere, sondern als Partner angesehen wurden.“
„Die Zeiten ändern sich“, sagte KatRhino sanft. „Aber das bedeutet nicht, dass sie immer besser werden. Vielleicht kommt der Tag, an dem die Admins erkennen, was sie verloren haben und updaten unsere Lieblingsreittiere. Bis dahin… bleiben wir hier und kümmern uns um das, was uns wichtig ist.“
Und so lebten KatRhino und Firefallz weiter, abgeschieden, aber erfüllt. Ihr kleines Heim im Feuertal war ein Refugium für die Corvusse, eine Zuflucht für die alten Werte, die sie so hochhielten. Sie wussten, dass die Welt sich nicht mehr für die stolzen Vögel interessierte, aber ihre Liebe und Bewunderung waren stark genug, um diese Ignoranz zu ertragen. Tief im Herzen hegten sie die Hoffnung, dass sich eines Tages jemand an die Weisheit und die Anmut der Corvusse erinnern würde – und dass die Vögel erneut ihren Platz in den Herzen der Menschen finden könnten.
Bis dahin lebten sie ihr einfaches, aber erfülltes Leben, in Harmonie mit den Flammen der Erde und den Flügeln des Himmels, zusammen mit ihren geliebten Corvussen.

1.
The young warrior exhaled. Sweat trickled down between his muscular omoplates, making the tunic under his hauberk stick unpleasantly to his skin. But the work was necessary, and the warrior was far from done.

Looting it was, or so noble combatants and knights with their grand ideas about chivalry and honor would call it, frowning and looking down on him. He preferred "scavenging". He didn't consider himself a plunderer, or a marauder, or a bad person of any sort. He was just trying to survive. I forage the dead for what their murderers left behind, is that worse than what the murderers did?, he asked himself for the hundredth time. It was less dangerous than working as a sellsword, and certainly more honorable than as an assassin, jumping from shadow to shadow with bloody knives in blackened hands. Nobody gets hurt, and my wife and children don't die of hunger. And surely the dead don't mind.

The warrior bent down to the next corpse, an almost naked old man with strawy white hair whose skin was already rotting away. He found nothing on him and moved on, passing over the body of an already skeletal babe. Hours came and went, the sun sank and the moon rose; it stood high when the young warrior finally came upon the last killed villager, another old man, but one still dressed in a richly ornamented silken robe. How many corpses was that? Nigh 50, the whole hamlet, I'd wager. Maybe they had had enough and spared this one. Or he was some kind of priest, and they didn't dare touch him. That didn't stop them from killing him in the first place... savages and brutes. The warrior looked over at the pile of his looting: a pair of leather boots, mostly intact, a small tin box, empty but for some rotten herbs, a rusty hunting knife, two feathered arrows, a straw doll (he would wash it and give it to his youngest), a painted skull, of what animal he could not say. What little coin he'd found he had put in his purse right away. A meagre spoil. And so he reluctantly turned the dead priest over and searched him. He found nothing except for an old scroll, which unrolled showed three parchments full of symbols he couldn't read. Old Baguron may find this one interesting... with any luck it'll bring me a few coppers for a bowl of thick stew and a cold shiz beer at Marie's. And with warming thoughts about food and ale, the warrior shouldered the bag with his new possessions and left the burned village without a glance back. The way to the city square would be long.

Interlude.
It was an intriguing piece of scripture, that much was clear to Baguron when the young lad had handed it over. He wasn't able to read the symbols, but knew at first sight that they were ancient; few such documents were still known to men; almost all were shut away in the hidden library in the Aleveya catacombs. And what he also knew: the name of the only man who could decipher this mysterious folio. So for a few coppers more, he tasked the young warrior to bring it to the Shuar Forest, where a man even older than him lived his last years on earth among wild bears.

2.
Pandrik the Wise wasted no time. Soon as he saw the symbols on the parchment, he began the tedious task of translating them into the common language. It wasn't the first time, but Pandrik was an old man, with weak eyes and old bones and a scratchy handwriting, and so it took him several hours. He could hardly focus on the story unfolding with every move of his quill; when the work was done, the ink dry, his eyes and fingers rested, Pandrik sat on a whetstone outside his hut and started reading in the moonlight.

Long ago, thousands of years before the appearance of Erifarius and Striagorn, Chione, a majestic black dragon, soared through the skies of Khair and Ogriy. She was the first of her kind, or so it is presumed, and feared by men and beast alike. Chion's fiery breath kept the two kingdoms safe from invaders, but her heart was as cold as her exhalation was scalding. She cared little for humans, viewing them as fleeting shadows in a world she ruled.

The mages of the First Brotherhood (the precursor that would later split into the two factions known today as Brotherhood of Virtue and Bringers of Evil), fearing Chione’s growing disdain and power, conspired to bind her. They gathered in secret, weaving ancient spells to imprison the great dragon. On a bitterly cold winter's night, as Chione slept on her favorite spot - an evergreen isle between the two continents, full of game but untouched by humankind -, the mages struck. Aboard swift platformed boats they approached the island, encircling it. Their magic, combining white and black and blood and dark to create enough power against the great she-beast, turned her flesh to stone, her wings to jagged peaks, and her roar to the howling winds. It would be the last great deed of the First Brotherhood, and a very long time until another dragon be sighted in Faeo.

And so Chione became the Chion mountains, as they stand today, warping over time and growing higher with every year passing. Though trapped between earth and sky, the she-dragon's essence remained. When the wind whispers through the mountain's crevices, the people of Khair and Ogriy say it is Chione, still watching, still guarding — and still waiting for the day the spell will break, freeing her once more to reclaim the skies. Some even say that the many openings of the Chion mountains are remnants of the great pores through which the beast let go the steam from the fires within her body; others consider the ever-appearing demons nothing else but Chion's warped children, born and bred in the magmatic womb from which they climb to avenge their mother. More such tales exist, to frighten children, scare maids and leave young squires in awe...

End.
There the tale about the supposed mother of all dragons ended. Pandrik sat on his stone bench, silent and motionless and thinking. There really was only one thing to do. He folded the scroll and tied it fast with a string made of Pkhadd tendon. Then he rose and sent for one of the Brotherhood's novices from the neighboring Wirgold estate. When the boy arrived, he handed him the document and said:

- Bring this to the settlement of Klesva. Hand it over to Chief Kort. Do not open it, you will not be able to read it anyways, and the information it holds is of no use to you. Order Kort in my name to have it entered in the library as soon as possible. He should ask no further questions.

And if he does ask about its content, Pandrik thought, amused, tell him it is the same as most of the other parchments in the catacombs: just another tale about dragons...


~ story written without the use of an A.I. or translator


Generated image of Chione -->