Under the False Moon

It’s been 20 years since the Great Hortian War. The people we used to call elders sit in their hand-dug hovels most of the day rambling about the blasts, the pestilence, and the dragons. Perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. My name is Porphyry, and I am the seasoned Bard of the Great Hortian War. I was barely able to hold a lute when the war began, but I’ll tell you all I can, and all I’ve heard from the stammering elders…

The lands were once green, with plains and forests, and the skies were once blue, and without the orange glow of the false moon that leers at us day and night. The five great nations of Hortia decided to join in a great alliance that would once and for all cement peace. The only catch was that the government of mortals does not hold weight in the world of dragons. It became a great insult to the dragons that the territories they had carved out were being changed; and they refused to allow the mortals to change the lines they had worked so hard to establish. The dragons began attacking each other, fearing that it was another dragon’s claim to territory that wasn’t theirs. Of course, there is no such thing as a dragon fight without collateral damage, and the nations began to share the paranoia that the dragons felt. There were massive battles, with dragon battling dragon and nation warring against nation, and ties began to grow between the nations and the dragons. Soon, the five great nations each had a dragon to herald over them. This marks the beginning of the Great Hortian War. With the dragons competing to gain as much territory as possible, and the mortals matching their avarice, the seeds of destruction were sewn. No land was safe. Within two years the entire landscape was changed: fields were scorched, forests desolated, cities and villages barren and empty. The population of the world went from sprawling to dwindling. There was no hope for an outcome; the dragons and their mortal subordinates were at a stalemate with each other. It was then that the gods played their hand.

Tiamat, whose body was trapped deep in the crust, instructed a group of his closest Dragonborn followers to construct a large sphere of magic, and tether it to the land. Once the sphere was attached, all those with greed in their hearts were expunged from Hortia, be it man, woman, or child; mortal or dragon. The sphere, which burned red-hot, then turned a dull orange, and became lifeless.

It’s been 20 years since the Great Hortian War. There have been very few people left on this world, but there is still hope. As I speak, the land appears to be rejuvenating itself. The false moon still looms, but its magic has worn away, and greed can once again populate the land. The world sits on a precipitous edge. I sing to you, noble adventurer: you will tip the world either toward its full realization, or its true destruction. But perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself once more…

Comments

lol fuckin brilliant telling man!!!

Teaser
jrjard

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