Upon the Smoke and Ash

There weren't always Dragons in the valley. Indeed there was once a time where the valley was amongst the most fertile in the whole Kingdom of Yronvelt. That however all changed when the Mage arrived, the Mage who promised to bring the fine folk of the valley an even greater harvest season. You see, before the Mage arrived at the town of Ibith had experienced quite a few seasons of disappointment. Bitter and cold winters were followed by dry springs and brutal summers in the valley. The various Humans, and Elves that lived in town were getting desperate, the Mage himself had a plan.

The Mage had come into town after hearing their troubles, the Queen of Yronvelt had sent him to investigate the causes of the harsh weather. He never gave his real name, but had assured the people of Ibith that he could help them with their farming woes. After researching the history of Ibith, he discovered documented accounts of the Ancient Builders. A Giant Folk that once lived in this valley, one that was led by a Shamanic Priestess some three thousand years prior. After discovering this, the Mage discovered that upon the peak of Crosspear was where this Giant Priestess conducted her magic.

Journeying up to the frosted peak with his apprentice, the Mage could sense that something was interfering with the weather. Speaking the tongue of the Ancients, the Mage began to induct his spells, one that could sense more of the disturbance. Byeth, Holcaestrum Silham, he shouted. The ground began to shake as a sudden blizzard began to interrupt. Sholthacos, Vulcuth, Anshiek, the Mage shouted once more.

Lightning began to strike from the blizzard, the mountain began to quake. This was not of the natural phenomenon, this was the magic that dwelt upon the peak. Something from the Ancient Giant Magic was trying to repeal the Mage. The Mage began to glow as his magical essence began to try and calm the unnatural storm. The quakes became more intense, the lightning became more frequent.

It was then that something began to reveal himself. A magical barrier of sorts that covered the summit of Crosspear Peak. The Mage proceeded to approach the barrier, he invoked the ancient tongue once more, Byeth, Holcaestrum Silham. The barrier began to tear and revealed its secrets, it was a wall with glowing red runes.

The Mage then proceeded to enact a destructive spell as he used the fading lightning to strike the wall. With a thunder clap upon the summit of Crosspear Peak, the rest of the mountain began to shake. The apprentice tried to warn his master of tampering with the ways of old. But pride filled the mage, as he believed that he solved the bitter winters and brutal summers that had plagued Ibith. It would bring him prestige like no other in the Royal Court.

As the peak stopped rumbling, there was an eerie silence. This short silence was interrupted by Crosspear Peak beginning to collapse. The Mage and his Apprentice began to retreat as the natural wonder began to crumble. But this was not the end of their troubles, oh no. For from the hollow inside of the mountain emerged a large grey and scaly beast. Amargath, an ancient dragon that was once sealed by the giants in a long gone era. Amargath announced his great awakening with a terrible roar, that sounded as if thunder and volcanic eruptions were one.

The grey dragon unfurled his wings and from his mouth came not fire but something more chilling, lightning as if from the clouds above. The beam of lightning began to tear its way through the mountains above Ibith and the valley below. From the other mountains emerged more dragons. Rethola green as an emerald and spikes running down its spine. Second was Vaceoth, blue as ice with a roar that was even more chilling. The apprentice begged his master to try and seal the beasts from whence they came. However, Amargath's breath had found the mage and managed to vaporize him.

The three dragons then eyed the town of Ibith below and the terror began. Amargath's breath reigned lightning, Rethola's reigned fire and Vaceoth's reigned ice. Few managed to escape that day, whether man or elf. So great was Ibith's destruction that the only matter of its evidence were survivors like myself.

I had escaped the mountain, I had escaped my master's doom. But when I returned that day, between the smoke and ash was my spirit robbed. That is why there are dragon's in the valley. The people of Ibith were desperate, desperate for prosperity. But those desperate for more, do not know what hell can await them. To turn to a prideful mage and his foolishly obedient apprentice is the symptom of desperation.

But that is why you are here, you wished to know how to stop these ancient beasts that have since multiplied. The only beings that could stop them the giants, are long gone I fear. Though far to the west, there in lies an island, an island that is said to have giants of the smaller kind. If you wish to restore these lands, then your best hope lies in Saullas.

Thank you, this is my Fantasy prologue. A long monologue by an aging old man.