It all began one crisp autumn morning, in the city- state of Goesell, one of the Empire’s proud port cities. Ships scurried to and fro as they unloaded spices, jewels, runes, and weapons from different countries and factions spread across Terra Mortalis (Land of mortals). To the west lay a cluster of high mountains dubbed “Feylil Strunmah,” Morningstar Mountain, the fabled land of the dragons, as many of the townsfolk believed that ancient guardians resided there, and that one day, the slumbering beasts would arise once more to devour the living. Of course, many of the guardsmen dismissed this gossip as the mere rambling of peasants with too many mugs of mead in them.
Living within the middle- class area was a hardworking, well to do man named Halt Worthington, who had a beautiful wife named Millena and two fine sons, Geonas, who was fourteen and Hadrian, who was at the time, six. Their lives went well, with each day bringing in much food and a fair income as a blacksmith for the soldiers and nobility. This proud port city boasted forests filled full of magnificent trees, and as autumn set in, the trees’ leaves gradually turned from bright green to a golden color, coating the forest floor in a carpet fit for a king. The city was well built, and had weathered many an eon of storms and wind. Crime was all but absent, and thus, fewer and fewer guards were needed, most of them lightly trained in the way of the sword. Citizens and nobility alike boasted that the city would last forever.
On that fateful morning, Halt was just returning from his smithy when suddenly, a great roar sounded to the west, filled with triumph. The earth shook and fissures tore through the ground at a blinding speed, with some spanning 10 feet in width. The air seemed to thrum with power, and blue wisps of lightning crackled among them. Halt fell to the ground, and watched, horror-struck, as a gigantic black beast rose from the mountains.
It’s sinuous black body gleamed in the sun like freshly polished leather, and it’s eyes shone with a malevolent yellow light, with cat- like irises. Cruel black scales studded the creature’s back, and it’s wings unfurled as it rose towards the heavens, spanning at least 30 feet long. The maw of the creature glowed, and a mighty inferno issued forth, destroying much property.
Millena promptly grabbed Geonas and Hadrian and sprinted to the forest.
“I can’t stay with you for much longer, there are some heirlooms I must retrieve from our home!” she shouted.
She ran back towards Halt’s living quarters in the center of town, just as a blast of fire engulfed it. Over the course of several hours, desperate battles were fought between the lightly trained guards and the dragon. Civilians ran around the battlefield, adding to the chaos. In the end, none of the weapons at hand fazed the dragon, and the city was on the verge of destruction
Geonas snarled angrily as he watched the battle, “I must avenge our parents and friends! Brother, you must go to the Order. I have contacts within them that will help you. Make haste, brother!”
The Order was a shadowy and secretive organization that consisted of former Templar after the group fell apart in 1312. Geonas was fortunate enough to be a high- ranking official within the ranks, and thus, Geonas’s comrades would be honor-bound to assist Hadrian.
Geonas unsheathed his saber and sprinted towards the rampaging dragon, seeming deaf to Hadrian’s repeated pleas of “Come back!” The village burst into flames, the explosion sending the dragon into flight and the village into flaming death throes.
Hadrian wiped tears from his eyes as his young mind struggled to comprehend the series of events that befell his family. Suddenly, he remembered Geonas’s last words, and wordlessly stumbled towards the nearest known Order outpost, 50 miles away. Thus began the legacy of a hero.