A century ago the mighty Dragons returned…

Once the loyal mounts of lost heroes, they fell onto the world in a cataclysm of fire and death, their metallic scales now tarnished and warped. Their arrival shattered the very earth, creating new mountains and seas, and then, amongst the chaos they fell upon those who still lived.

Daros, the largest of their number, his gold scales now stained red, took the newly formed burning lands. Nesting amongst the riches of the ruined Dwarven Kingdoms and swimming in lava spilling from newly formed Volcanos. Rumors of Daros cults, ruled by Dragonspawn, have begun to circulate throughout the world…

The Lady spread her silver wings, now flecked with green, and few to the West. She now rules there as a goddess, aided by the corrupt nobles of the Tiefling theocracy that has turned the country into an oppressive police state. Industry and technology is on the rise and now the West begins to look outward. Meanwhile, the Lady has not been seen in public for a decade…

Farod, blue taint covering his brass scales, took to the new oceans, not being one to rule, but rather to terrorize. Even now the halfings of the Shattered Isles fear him and his pirate fleets. The new sea, however, is largely uncharted and unclaimed…

Kursk, the last of them, now pitch black and deformed, flew East gathering a monstrous humanoid horde. However the Empire of Light was blessed with the Light Wall, and for a while it seemed like at least in the East the Dragons would be stopped. However, inexplicably the Wall began to retreat…

The Origin of Hope

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