The Lady & The Wyrm Session 0

The beginning entry below details the lives of our five individuals who are now in The Forgotten Realms, specifically in the Tethyrian capital of Darromar. Read on to see how they live their daily lives. Where they came from, and how they got to where they are.

And then, read on to the witness account of a random event, on a random day, in the capital city that would change their lives forever. An event that will set them on the path to untold adventures!

The Goliath, Sendak Maur

The wind has picked up a bit this afternoon. Coming in off the river, the breeze hits all the sails on the ships in port, they all securely moored to their docks. The various ships in the slips rock gently, dancing a dance between the water’s surface, and the air around them. Sendak, the Goliath, stands up straight for a time to take in this moment of Nature. The tepid breeze on his face feels good. He breathes deep, pushing back the heat he is expending from unloading the Farrowmore, a supply cruiser that arrived just last night. It full of imported goods ordered by the Wardmaster from…well he wasn’t sure from where exactly. But that wasn’t the Goliath’s job. His job for today, was simple. Take the inventory off the ship, stack it on the dock, and wait for the dock manager to confirm, after counting against his paperwork, that he was done. Mr. Frazorn they call him. The man who handed out daily jobs to every grunt off the street willing to work. It could be anything from moving cargo, to scrubbing decks, folding sails, escorting prisoners, and even to eradicating galley pests of varying kinds.

“Oy, you there!” Frazorn called out. He had a voice that was recognizable anywhere. Years of screaming through storms on the decks of various ships gutted his voice into crushed stone. Toss in the near-constant pipeweed smoking and Frazorn was known audibly no matter where he went. The pipe in question was currently hanging out of the left side of his mouth as he addressed the Goliath. “You are two containers short again! It’s coming out of your wage!” He walked over to Sendak cautiously as he always did. Sendak was not a violent or nasty Goliath. He was rather peaceful, thanks to being the product of his environment. His upbringing among his tribe taught him well the ways of life. Even if those ways were not intended of a city as grand as Darromar, he still was able to survive thanks to them. He was also quite small for a Goliath. Barely over 6ft tall and a shade over 200lbs, he still matched up with a large number of the locals that made their way through the Docks District. Now if you head up to the Royal District where Sendak was known to spend a night or two begging, he was rather large to the populace and therefore the attitudes were slightly different towards him.

Frazorn plunked 3sp into Sendak’s outstretched hands. “That’s all you get for the day Sendy,” this being Frazorn’s name for the half-giant. Sendak had sort of attached himself to Mr. Frazorn. He was usually willing to offer Sendak a job before he would to the general crowd that lined up at the docks at various unloading times. They looking for the work that would feed them and their families one more day. Also most likely due to the fact that regardless of the work, Sendak was always on time, performed the work start to finish, & even helped others if he could while working. But again this time, even though he unloaded everything from the ship as instructed, there was another small shortage of inventory that Sendak was…docked for. Still he thanked Mr. Frazorn for the menial wages that would in fact feed him for a couple more days. Not being as big as his mountain brethren, he didnt require the massive amounts of food they did. Sendak began his way off the dock, internally planning the rest of his evening. Food, shelter, sleep.

Sendak appreciated the rejuvenation he received from a long deep rest. “Hey, Sendy,” called Mr. Frazorn. Sendak stopped and turned to see the man beckoning him to come back to him. As

Sendak approached, he saw Mr. Frazorn reach into his jacket pocket and held his hand out. Sendak looked and saw it was the last 2sp that would’ve made up his full wages of 5sp for the day’s work. “I ain’t gonna have more work for you for a while now Sendy,” as he placed the coins in Sendak’s hand. “They got me moving on up north and IDK who my replacement will be. So you get yourself full up and cozy wherever you can. Until you can’t. You seem to know the city well enough now, you’ll keep on makin’ it. Go on now.” Frazorn simply put his pipe back in his mouth, tucked his paperwork into his satchel, turned and made his way up the dock and into the roving crowds. He was gone from Sendak’s view within seconds. Perhaps he could see him still if he was just a bit taller, he thought as he pictured his fellow tribe in his mind. He placed the 5sp in his pouch, tucked it inside the belt-row of his pants, and followed his nose. His stomach rumbling. Maybe lunch with the Monks…

Maiya Correlion, the Elf

From her roost high up in the crow’s nest of her docked ship, The Leviathan, Maiya the Elf looked down at the Goliath lumbering his way out of the docks. “Huh,” she thought out loud. “I thought they were bigger?” She shrugged the thought away with the jug in her hand that contained a strong sun-ale she took a liking to recently that was served down at The Red Crow. The Red Crow was not known to be a hot spot for the rare pirate crews that made their way, for various reasons, upriver here. But this is where the best shipbuilders and repairmen were. And so it’s also on chilly or damp nights where Maiya would get herself a warm & dry sleep. She didn’t know for sure how much longer she would be in this place. She wasn’t too fond of being this deep inland. It was already over two months and still The Leviathan was waiting on more part supplies to continuing getting repaired. I suppose not everybody can have a Jack The Mack bringing their supplies into town(tell about the world’s most famous magickal donkey).

These thoughts were interrupted by a whistle. Maiya cocked her head up, waiting for the second part to let her know where to look. She heard it a mere second later and with the eyes of a bird from her roost, looked down to see Borfo, one of the Leviathan’s mates of many talents, leaning up against one of the masts of the Farrowmore. He locked eyes with her and gave a small nod. Maiya returning the nod, said goodbye to her drink as she left it in the nest. “You dont let ANYONE touch that, alright?” she requested of the seabird roosted on the edge of the crow nest. The bird flipped its head to her, flapped its wings twice, then hopped off and onto the lid of the jug. It let out a seabird cry as Maiya made her way over the edge and onto the ladder down. She made it with ease as always. Man she loved this ship. She knew it well too. Where to and where not to step. But the bird, well that she hasnt figured that out yet. It seemed to latch onto her hat one day and since, hasn’t left. It almost appeared, and this was probably the sun-ale talking, to understand the Elf.

Maiya dropped planks and netting and made her way over to The Farrowmore where Borfo was standing. He upon her arrival straightened up and gave a very goofily animated mi’lady style bow that she would NEVER dare tell him made her chuckle inside. It was also his sure fire way to let her know he had her full attention whenever she needed it or wanted it(Urkel to Laura style). “So, what do we get this time Borfo?” she asked of the sailor. He wasn’t too brutish of a man, although he was known for his drinking antics, as well as being severely defensive of the crews on the ship. He also had a way of getting onto ANY ship that sailed on the waters. From the whaling vessels, to the merchant cutters, all the way even to some Royal charters. No ship was in the way of Borfo. And due to that unique talent he was held in high regard by Capt. Svedra, and given special treatment on board The Leviathan. The cargo, the crew, the valuables they achieved out in the waters due to Borfo and the others was well known. Maiya never gloated that she was in that group as well due to her ability to steer their ship whenever it needed to go on the best course possible using an uncanny ability to read the stars. Her star maps were well known out in the waters, and once in a while could fetch a high price. “Well from this one , there wasn’t all too much to be honest,” said Borfo. He circled his finger across the deck to a storage area where if you looked hard enough, you could see two containers hidden in the shadows of ship parts. “One has three barrels of sun-ale for you,’ Borfo claimed. “And the other has three compartments, each containing some fine fibers, some grains, and some low quality jewel shards. Still, a decent find if you ask me!” as he stroked his beard with a look of approval on his roughen face. Maiya took a step or two closer to the sailor-man. Getting within mere inches of his face. She turned on the charm and spoke gently to him. “Well then my good sailor-man. You go ahead and get those two containers down into The Leviathan’s storage. And when you’re done, meet me back here we will go to The Crow for a drink.” He nearly audibly gasped in his reply but kept his composure through slightly shaky breath. “Yes ma’am I will do that right now. Right away ma’am. The shit-eating grin could be seen for miles as he hastily made his way to his task. Maiya spent some time admiring the cargo vessel she stood upon for a bit. After her mental respite, & the ale beckoning a nap from her, she began crossing the deck and to the exit ladder that would lead to the dock. When she got there, she was stopped in her tracks by two Darromar guard who were patrolling the area. “Hey you filthy pirate, what you doin on that ship? Show your hands!” Crap! She thought as she really didn't have a way out of this one. At lease she was empty-handed, that was for sure. As she was about to make her next move, the voice of an old lady bellowed out from behind them back on the ship. Maiya turned to look to see the ugliest old lady hunched over with a walking cane making her way over to the ruckus.. Borfo had about 4-5 different colored rags covering him to best disguise himself as he hobbled over. “You boys leave that young lady alone, she is with me!” he cried as he waved the walking stick at the guards for a moment. “Sometimes a lady needs a lady’s assistance on a ship. And now that young lady is gonna escpore THIS young lady to her dinner date. And you don't want…” Borfo paused for a moment to catch his breath. He was trying his damndest to not burst out laughing as he walked past Maiya, grabbing her hand, taking them to the guards. He saw her eyes bulged, cheeks reddening from preventing a deep laugh escaping her belly. “Mrs Bottlestine late to dinner? Why I never heard…” as he continued past the bewildered guards. As they passed them and onto actual dock, they

quickened their pace. Not quick enough for one of the guards to draw his sword and stick it down onto the rags dragging behind the man. The rags stopped in their place, eventually all falling off the sailor-man, but the “ugly old lady” and the Elf did not. They both looked at each other, and absolutely bolted ahead into the lively crowds of the city’s Dock district. After a moment of “ugh, not this again” from the two guards, they gave chase. Just another day in the life of a pirate!

Pip, the Dark-Elf

Up in the Financial District, lies Darromar’s Hall of Knowledge. And sat upon one of its upper level floors, is Pip the Dark-elf. No, not THAT Dark-Elf. He has in his hands the latest issue of Magicka Summonus Emporious, the sixth in the series. Pip naturally ofc has read all 5 previous entries front to back. Whenever he is not working at The Anvil’s Ring tavern saving up for all the trinkets and baubles he loves collecting from the city’s various vendors both domestic and foreign, he is here. Studying all these wonderful books about the arcane powers and mysteries of the world. He often caught himself losing hours of time imagining in his mind casting wondrous spells and sending powerful magic all over the world. But in reality, he can barely hold onto a full mug of ale on the busy nights down at the Ring. But it was the only job he was offered after a few months of searching. You see, Pip is a Dark-Elf. And to the shock of nearly everybody he meets, hes not a Drow. Hes just an Elf. So why is his skin so dark? Nobody knows. And not really anyone seems to care. Pip doesn't remember his parents. Like, at all. He lived in so many houses, alleys, & hay bales. And surrounded with so many different people growing up, the notion of dedicated parents doesnt really strike him that much. So he was quite happy in Darromar. It was a very tolerant and accepting city. And even though yes he wasn't the greatest magician in all the land, he did have a job. He did have a roof over his head. He was the sole occupant of the beat down but charming Delepor House that sat riverside just outside of town. It was actually owned by Telemus Delepor, the owner of The Anvil’s Ring. He saw the Elf was really trying to get by and it kinda hurt ole Telemus right in the heart when he’d look out on rainy nights, and see the Elf across the way huddled up with the horses trying to keep warm. Yet the Elf never once asked for anything more than what he was fairly due for the work he performed. So after Telemus’ wife died back in the storms, he let the house go until he thought, yeah why not., Let someone new take over the place. So, he offered Pip the house under one condition. No blowing up the house with all those “dark magicks” he was always going on about and reading about in those books when he was supposed to be working!. Those books of which sometimes Telemus would actually purchase and leave out for Pip at the house. He knew the young Elf’s wages couldn’t afford some of these texts and tomes. The Library was neat and all but eventually, somebody else needed the books and Pip would begrudgingly have to give them back.

Pip’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the main doors of the library bolting closed. “Oh no,” he thought. “I did it again! I’m gonna be late for the show!” He scrambled up to his feet, put the tome back on the shelf, admired the shelves one last time and ran downstairs. And he already knew the last obstacle in his way of getting out of here. And as expected when he

bounded down the flights of stairs to the main floor, there she was. Standing guard as he knew she would be. Mrs. Ruusa the librarian. She was a plump woman. Far aged like a human does.

And that stick in her hand. ‘The Stick Of Right Now’, Pip called it. Because every time he was shooed out of the library by the old coot, she’d wave that stick at him and cry out in her frailer voice “you go on out of here right now, the library is closed Pip! You know this!” as Pip would run off. And today was no different as she glared at him over her thickly rimmed wooden spectacles. He half thought “hmmm, maybe a window would be a better option with that look.” Too bad for him, this floor of the library had no windows. So he took a deep breath and made his way to the guarded exit. “Pip.” the old timer surprisingly greeted him. “Euhh Mrs Ruusa, good evening. Mind if I get out of your hair, got someplace I really need to be.” He hoped thats all he had to tell her, but of course nope. Fifteen minutes later the doors closed behind Pip as he stood on the outer stoop of the library entrance. Who knew the old timer was such a fan of magic her self and wanted to hear all about the show Pip was going to. The show that Pip now would be able to SIT IN as part of the crowd instead of trying to squint at the action from a far off balcony or rooftop. Mrs Russa tossed him the 1sp cover charge that would earn him a chair to the greatest show in the world, Enchantress Calamore’s Fantastic Features! A grand magical show performed by none other than the long, lean, and magically pristine Lady Calamore. Every show ended with hoots and thunderous applause. And her story is just as wild. Tales tell she was able to perform the most unbelievable magic when she was just four years old out of nowhere! Others say she’s never read a book in her life, yet knows so much about magic? Pip wasn’t sure but he knew his dream come true would be to be up on that stage with Lady Calamore fascinating and thrilling the audiences with their all-powerful magics. But not today. Today was Pip sitting 5th row back, eyes glued to the Enchantress as she put on her show of shows.

After the grand spectacle ending, Pip’s other dream came true. After the ruckus of applause ended, Pip garnered up his courage and made his way to the stage. He looked to possibly just get a hello to & from the Magic Lady, and tell her how amazing he thought she was, and how much he wanted to perform magic like she did and…Pip’s mind was racing when he realized, the stage was empty. The seats were empty. And if you told him due to how quiet it suddenly was, Pip would’ve believed the whole city was gone. And the only other being left besides the Dark Elf, was the Enchantress sitting five rows back in the chairs, in Pip’s paid seat. He walked over to her and realized he couldn’t speak. He just had no words worthy to use in her presence. But she did for him. She produced a tome from out of nowhere and began skimming it’s pages. “Ahhh “ she merrily sighed. Suddenly she stood before him, eye to eye. “All that imagination of yours. You would be simply amazed at what your life, and the whole world, could be like if you just let your imagination become…” she slammed the book closed. “Reality!” she smiled. The moment shocked him so that he flinched. When he re-opened his eyes, she was gone. The attendees to the show were milling out of their seats. He looked to the stage and there was the Magic Lady, picking up the rest of her gear, jumping into a carriage, and heading off to her next show. Pip was garnering his thoughts when he realized he was holding something. It was a small book that fit snugly in hs hands. A book that Pip seemingly was unable to open. The cover didnt detach from the bind of pages he could clearly see it contained. Same with the rear cover. And he looked around realizing he had no one to ask for help with it. What he also realized is that this is the city. Don't walk around flashing your belongings for they may not be yours much longer. He took this book and tucked it into his shirt and hurried his way through the square. He needed to get to work. And he needed to find out more about this book. Mrs Ruusa. She’d know. He’d risk the wrath of the stick. He made a mental note to go see her tomorrow. For now, it was off to balance mugs and plates at The Iron Ring.

Inka, the Firbolg

When someone is in pain, you try to comfort them. When someone is lost, you guide them. And when someone is suffering, you suffer with them, so as to one day you shall suffer for them. This is just part of the creed that lives inside the minds of the followers of Ilmater. And looking around the room she was currently standing in, Inka the Firbolg she saw these acts happening in real time. The Temple of Ilmater itself, situated on the western edge of the Temple District, was built of old stone, clay and wood. It had dirt floors. Nothing fancy or outlandish like some of the other temples in the area. The few areas that had openings to outside were currently covered in heavy red curtains to keep minimal fresh airflow moving through this space. This was the Disabled Ward. The area for everyone from those born with maladies that restricted them physically, to those who fought for the kingdom injured in the field, were brought. It was not a quiet place. The cries, moans and yells of the painfully interred were heavy on the air. The staff of the Temple, from the priests and priestesses, to the House Cleric who was on duty, to the surgeons and all their varying assistants, were doing their best impression of what Inka could only picture as a beehive. Back when she was in her homeland deep in the forests, she would come upon beehives in her woodland travels and was fascinated by eventually learning the “dance” the bees would do in their daily work. She saw all of that happening here. Everyone that was in need of care, was being attended to. Making her way down the hall and through to the next section, Inka paused. This was the Diseased Ward. Where illnesses brought on by unknown sicknesses held their innocent victims to their beds. If they had a bed. This ward had quite a few more beings in it so there were makeshift beds and hay piles on the ground to hold the sickened populace. Again, the sounds here were unmistakable, yet a bit more muted. A priest’s assistant saw Inka peering through the partially open doorway and rushed over to close it. Inka caught a brief look at the woman’s eyes, which appeared nearly swollen shut from apparent lack of sleep and possibly an illness of her own. Or, more realistically, from crying so much.

Inka made her way through the rest of the temple, silently greeting those she saw roaming the halls. She did have a chance to stop and speak with the downtrodden who waited in some of the hallways. Complaining of pains and sicknesses of all types. Begging for help for their loved ones, believing it may never come. At a rare moment, a small human child, nary aged 5 limped over to Inka who towered over the child. She was easily the tallest being in the building, yet to her own kind, she was on the small side! Firbolgs, or the caretakers of the forest as they are named in various Fae tales, were known to stand 8-10 ft and weigh in at over 500 lbs on a slow day. Inka though was born to be on the smaller side of her kind. Around 7ft tall and somewhere in the 200lb range she still made for an intimidating presence for the child. Yet the child did not sway. It was a boy. Jet black matted hair and cloud white skin dressed in blue rags and no shoes. He looked up at the Firbolg woman with eyes of wonder, fear, and curiosity all at once. Then he pointed to his throat. He wouldn’t speak, just pointed. Inka though had absolutely no idea what the boy was trying to say. Then she saw the look of compassion in the young human’s eyes, and as they began to well with tears. The boy then carefully collected his tears and licked them out of his hand, as a dog would out of a water bowl. It seemed to put the boy in a moment of relief. He then looked back up at the Firbolg, but this time Inka saw nothing but sadness as he turned and limped away.

Inka made her way down the hall to its end where it curved off to the right a bit. There was a large curtain hung ceiling to floor, but it was slightly billowing. Pushing aside the heavy dirty fabric, it revealed a large wooden set of doors laid into the wall! Inka ran her hands over the old weathered wood paneling, thinking back to her days in the forest before her wandering phase that landed her here in Darromar after meeting Lilya, a traveling priestess.

“That way is not for you.” a voice rang out behind her. She turned to see a short, very stout and smiling Tortle. “I am the Cleric, Xudara.” This was Darromar’s house Cleric for this temple. “I’m afraid beyond those door is reserved for those of a more devout level of faith.” as he bowed slightly at her. Inka thought he seemed pleasant. Inka also thought, wow look at that mace he’s carrying. “Place out your hand for me,” he gently requested. She did as was asked, and the Tortle placed a small object in her hand, as he did saying “sometimes, the pain and suffering you see around you, is so much more to those who can really focus on it, and accept it within.” He then simply turned and said he had to get back to his duties. In Minka’s hand was a small carving of The Broken God. The One Who Endures. Ilmater. As she closed her hand around the small figurine, she felt that same energy she felt when she touched upon the sick and dying. Against the ones who were held down and silenced within their world. Minka thought on this for a long while in the empty hallway. Then she took a deep breath and headed back into the dreary, morose world of the pained and downtrodden, of which there were so many. She herself felt energized and refreshed, but also as if there was weight slowly being put upon her shoulders. She pushed forward, knowing full well weight was something she could carry, even if it was the weight of others.

Alystin Sunfire the Half-Elf

Three baskets. That’s all it takes. Every single piece of property, building, business, & stall gets insurance paperwork if they are established within the capital city walls. And that paperwork, gets filed into one of, or at one point, all three baskets. Simple. That’s the system that Alystin the Half-Elf has put together for his employer, TTFI. Or in longform, Tethyr Trade Financing and Insurance. They are the ones responsible for all land and business insurance dealings for the capital city. Minus the Castle of course, that is a separate entity from the city itself. And regulated by folks who are much higher up than Alystin. That is because Alystin is what is known as an apprentice. Not a full-fledge member or employee of the place, but he was certainly important. He’s been voted Apprentice Of The Month for four consecutive months now. He missed the month previous due to taking time off to go see his folks for a while.

Alystin is young for his Half-Elven kind. Freshly 25 years old, he was certainly the youngest Elf on the team. And he has only been with the company going on 4 years now. Before that in his first 20 years, Alystin was at home. His first home anyway. He now rents a nice boarding room set above one of the tax offices on the other side of the Financial District. When he was born, he was surrounded by the majesty and beauty of the renown Forest Of Tethyr. His Father, a human, met Alystin’s Elven mother on a farming expedition one day many years ago. It was whats known as 'love upon first light' for the two. So Alystin was raised in the pure Elven ways of the Wood. Taught, learned, and experienced the Elven life of the forest dwellers. Yet, even as good as life could be, Alystin felt that a part of him that just didn’t belong in the deep magical woods. His human side was always pointed out when he made a mistake or did wrong, and his Elven side was raised up to the tribe when he excelled and pleased. It was a tough balance of learning who he really was. It took twenty years but he eventually did. The day after his 20th nameday he requested to leave the wooded world and head to the capital city, Darromar. There were plenty of times where the Forest would host capital residents(and plenty others, this was after all a very famous forest) either for trade, for business, or sometimes adventure. And if there was even a slight chance Alystin could experience that, he would! His Mother naturally was the first to object. Thinking that her assisted teaching to her boy of the outside world all these years was enough. Yet she was also wise enough to know, a bird that spreads its wings is going to want to fly. His Father on the other hand, "Absolutely! Don't forget to write!" simply because he knew exactly what the world could offer his boy. And who was he to tell him he couldn't do that. He knew that was his boy, and he would do absolutely fine anywhere he ended up. And Dad, he would deal with the Mrs about their divide about it another time. They were one of the most respected pairings in the wooden tribe for how well they represented the family element among the Elves even though Alystin's Dad was a pure human. On the day he left, "the gang" he called them were as expected waiting by the forest exit. Argh these guys. Annoying and rude to Alystin since he was on his Mom's teet. "Well look who is finally flying out of our forest" snarled Durias. His 2 other Elf buddies, Dufus 1 and 2 as Alystin called them, chuckled along. That was both a good riddance from the Elves, and a welcoming thought to Alystin.

From that day forth, Alystin continues to live the city kid life. He's trying all the foods he can. He's listening to all the Bards he can. Even spent some quality time with one or two of them. They are a spicy lot! He's traveled through all the city's districts. First on foot to get the lay of the land and its borders, and then by horse in case he ever needed to leave quickly. That also helped when he expanded his work duties to being the company courier when it was needed. He never got in trouble. He was always polite and helpful. He respected others. And most of all, he was happy. And after today was done, he was going to wrap up and take his monthly time off to see his parents in the Forest. It had been a good four months since he was last out there. He missed the last Midwinter sadly. Which caused a letter to arrive from home. No plainer was it written that everybody was sad and disappointed he decided to stay in the city instead of being around his family and loved ones. The very next day, he received another letter of the exact same kind. Except this one, rudely scribbled across the bottom was "just kidding. Don't ever come back! hahahaha." The Dufus' finest work yet. Still, they sent the letter. And Alystin knew that the rivalry that wasn't actually a rivalry, was still going strong. It was then when Alystin went home to pack a case for his trip, he noticed something quite odd. Three baskets. Lined up on his food table in the main area of his room. And each basket had a piece of paper in it. Alystin cautiously, eyeing his surroundings for anything else his senses found to be out of the ordinary, walked over and took each piece of paper out of their respective basket. They were blank, white plain scraps of parchment you could get just about anywhere. They were blank until Alystin turned them over. His eyes scanned each one. Deeply. Intently. He could feel his Elven intuitions and senses beginning to overwhelm his human ones. The three scraps of paper he laid out on the table. Each one with one rudely scribbled word…You. Were. Right.

And now for our new individuals of the capital city, a life-altering event simply titled...The Attack

Everyone in Darromar sees the following events from their various vantage points. Whether it be the commoners in the market, to the royals above in their lofty castle, to the five newest individuals of Tethyr, making their daily way though life. For as now, that life would forever be changed in an instant of time not long forgotten…

The attack happened in a way that no one could have expected. The witch’s voice, somehow booming over such a distance that all could hear it. And how she hovered in the air like that. At least 200 feet up, well above most buildings in the area, to maximize her exposure to all of those below her. And that is where they belonged. Below her. Her dreams, and the promises of long ago, bring her here now, to this moment, rising above them all. Ruling them. Eradicating them. The future she envisioned was finally coming to fruition. The world would now be hers. And it all began here, on the southwestern edge of the world. And so then she began to speak to them.

A cackling, evil toned voice, almost unnatural in its pitch and tone, began to emanate from the ghastly visage. “All of you now, see upon you the beginning of a world reborn. No more shall I be positioned away from what is rightfully mine. I have been granted the powers I have so long deserved. Live now, in the light of Arabella, your new Queen!” And as she said these words, her hands outstretched to the throngs below, she unleashed a bright beam of energy from her hands that shot across the top of the city into the horizon beyond. And then she herself, as if she was never even there, was gone from view.

Everybody from every part of the city next felt the gust of wind that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was slight at first, but it felt warmer than normal. And then it increased in intensity and temperature with each successive gust that struck. Was everyone in the city really feeling this? The answer to that was quickly known when the entire city heard the distant roar coming from the west. And those who had a higher vantage point to see outside the city walls into the lands afar, surely including those in Castle Tethy saw in the distance, eclipsed against the sun, the form silhouetted against the Sun’s blaze. A great dragon, wings outstretched, as if captured in the sky, held in place like a painting. But just as a mirage will deceive you in the desert, a dragon’s speed will deceive you in the sky. This dragon was well already full-force heading to it’s beckoning. To the city itself!

Those who saw it first, made the first ruckus. They yelling and screaming the verbal alarms along, making their way down to the unsuspecting populace below. Were they screaming “dragon”? many thought, as they saw bustles of people both reacting to the claims, and those just moving along as if they were not about to see their last lights. Up at Castle Tethyr, the kingdom’s legions with no time but to react, were moving into their defensive and offensive positions around the castle’s various battlement posts. The rest were moving their way down, into the city itself to begin evacuations. It was total chaos already, even though the real chaos had not even yet arrived. But then it did. In a speed many would tell that seemed simply impossible, the dragon breached the city walls, bringing a darkness that covered the city. And when it did, it had already prepared its attack. From its massive gaping maw of doom, came forth a loud, crackling scalding steam powered lightning breath that no single standing structure it touched could withstand. The heat of the steam, the amount of shattered energy from the lightning of its mouth were no match for the stone and wood of most Darromar structures. Even those of hardy Dwarven stone and Elven timber, cracked and fell from the energy contained in the pressurized chains of lightning and scalding temperatures of the steam that enveloped it. The dragon was indescribably huge. Easily the largest living beast this area may have ever seen before in its long history. There are plenty of tales of dragons of course throughout the Faerunian continent and beyond. Those that lived in peace among other races, while others hell-bent on their evil dragon Gods’ commands of a world to be theirs. But this fearsome beast held all of those horrific tales to light as it swooped around and around the city, unleashing its neverending fury. However someone reacted, it wasn’t enough. If they jumped into the waters of the Docks District, they were electrocuted to death or drowned by the splintered and burning sinking ships. If they huddled in their homes, they felt their home collapse upon them. If their businesses had the best defenses offered, they were burned in the ensuing fires caused by the powerful lightning. As soon as it could, the city’s defenses came to life. The King’s guard, The Darromar Guard, were on their castle’s bastions, firing their ballistas to no avail. The outer structure of the castle itself suffering its own damage, including to the upper levels where the Royals lived. Every piece of ammunition that was able to strike the beast, was like hitting a mountain with a grain of sand. No effect. In other parts of the city, the available magic users of the world were able to launch a magical assault against the dragon. They with their various elemental attacks, and ones of the arcane, were able to strike the beast, but to no avail were they unable to seemingly harm it. The destruction was growing. Blocks of residences, areas of temples, and rows of businesses left in steaming piles of rubble. Or burning pyres. The screams of the city’s residents drowned out by the chaos. Either from that, or the dragon’s roar causing nothing else to be heard.

When from an outsider’s overall point of view the city seemed lost, Odious, the King’s right hand and the kingdom’s most revered Sorcerer, appeared in the city’s center square. An aged man who has sat at the side of the King & Queen for over now two decades, closed his eyes as he began to chant under his breath. He rose off the ground, making his way high into the sky and with a sudden burst of arcane energy, he let forth a blast of magical power that hit the dragon head on as it reared its head back for another breath attack. Yet this time it could not as the monster began to stiffen and slow until it simply was suspended, unmoving in the air above the royal district. If you looked into it’s eyes, you would see it struggling mightily against the powerful Sorcerer’s magic. Yet it would not hold forever as the dragon, ensuing from within its deepest strengths, was able to slowly start overpowering the arcane forces holding it back, and it began to speak to the old magic-wielder. “Ahh old man, you are so brave aren’t you,” it said, eerily in a voice somewhat similar to the witch’’s own. “To stand there in defiance of something greater than you, knowing it is futile to resist it. So then now know this,” as the dragon continued to grow its well of inner power, and overcome the last effects of the spell. “Know that I shall be your reckoning!” and with that the dragon all at once, burst out of the invisible forces holding it still, and it brought forth it’s most massive wave of steam-backed lightning, flowing down upon the old man, until nearly the whole city square was destroyed. The dragon then flappings huge wings as it sailed in a circle one last time over its accomplishments, headed north. Passing the city walls, the grand castle, and the utter destruction that was once one of Faerun’s greatest capitals.