Draconic Lore Book
Long ago, there was a great war of domination. Every race fought for control of the many small fiefdoms that were scattered above and below. No species was exempt. Kobold, Human, Orc, Elf, Drow, Dwarf, Gnome, Halfling, Goblin, and Dragons all scrambled for control of a magical relic which would ensure godhood to any creature that could solve its intricate puzzle. The fighting grew so heated that many of the planar races and other outsiders left, gouging a hold into a mountain range and sealing themselves inside a great dome of magic. The rest fought for blood, and soon for hatred.
In an attempt to end the war and reign victorious, the great drow sorceress Drazah traveled deep into the underdark to speak with the twisted gods that resided close to the core of the world. Some say being so deep in the earth changed her, some say it was her proximity to the numerous sleeping godlike abominations, but nonetheless, the mangled soul that returned wore Drazah’s skin, and held in its hand a spell, THE spell. It was blood magic, and required the sacrifice of a thousand drow children, but the collective greed of the Drow and the hypnotic gaze of the sorceress won over the already diminished Drow morality in the end.
Drazah received her sacrifices, and when the last drop of child’s blood was spilled into the grand thermae that made up Drazah’s private baths, she set to her task. Drazah submerged herself for three days and nights, and while she was submerged, she called to the deep. On the third night, the deep called back. Drazah spoke the words, and her request was answered. All sentient life that walked the surface of the world would be extinguished.
That moment, across the world, cities began to shake. A great and terrible wind began to blow, and vortexes of wind formed around the cities, scraping their way over the landscape like the fingers of a massive god. Anywhere a sentient being walked above land, one of these fingers would descend, and moments later, every trace of the surface dwellers that existed above the threshold of the earth had vanished. All that remained of once great empires was cellars… and dungeons.
Unbenownst to the Drow, the dragons had sensed the gathering energy below the earth, and fearing what it would mean, they escaped to their lairs underground. They took the kobolds with them, and the kobolds remain thankful to this day.
The rest of the surface dwellers were not so well attuned to the music of the universe, and so did not know to retreat. All that remained of them, in the end, were the dregs of their races: thieves, murderers, criminals, and those guards too unfit to fight in the Great War. Among those unfit few was an injured wizard by the name of William Wolfschild, a lesser noble who had given his life to scholarly pursuits before being conscripted into service in the war. William, having been opposed to the war from the start, decided to set the prisoners free and began to gather any surface dwellers he could find at the base of the once great castle, the granite citadel, and set to devising a spell which would destroy the object of power so that no one would be able to harness the power of the gods again. It was during his research that William realized he would need the aid of the most powerful magic users in the land. Knowing no other course of action, he turned to the dragons.
Upon hearing William’s plan, the great dragon Ominak, leader of the dragons, noticed a flaw. In order to summon enough divine energy to destroy the object, the spell would have to be cast by a righteous king, ordained by a god. William was a leader among his people, and he had noble blood, but he was no king, and commanded nowhere near the respect necessary to entice a god’s notice. Even if he crowned himself, no god would see fit to ordain him, unless he could demonstrate control over vast amounts of people. To further add problems, all that remained of his people were the lawless, who barely listened to him lest he promise them riches. But the Dragon Ominak saw a solution, and offered it to William.
All dragons would come together and cast their powers into a throne forged from the bones of the most ancient of their kind. Anyone who sat the throne would be absolute ruler of the realm, a large swath of blood, field, forest, swamp, and desert that lay between the sea and the great impassable mountains, fifty times larger than any kingdom in the land at the time. The dragons would take the land on the far side of the mountains, though they would have to return occasionally to breed. The throne would not, could not, impart direct control over any one person, but anyone who held citizenship in the land would begin to think like their ruler, and thus be more easily persuaded to follow his or her rule.
William agreed to the idea, though he suggested that due to the ruthless nature of his people, it might be best to restrict the thrones effect to the living members of his own family line. And as long as the throne remained whole, it would serve as a representation of the alliance between the new realm and the realm of dragons.
As foretold, when William sat the throne, the god Pelor appeared before him, and ordained him as the new king, first of his lineage. He was no longer William Wolfschild. He was William DePelorgras, emporer of Sanguinous Imperium, the empire of blood!
William’s coronation was short lived, however, as he had a war to win, and the drow army was moving forward against the dwarves in the final battle for the object of power. So, upon receiving his crown, William and Ominak hastened to the Granite Citadel, where in the depths of its dungeons he and the great brass dragon cast the spell which would destroy the object of power.
Dwarves and Drow were the only witnesses to the destruction of the object, as they fought at the base of the shrine whilst it disintegrated before them, but their accounts are many and very descriptive. Moments after its destruction, and army of the remaining races arrived, led by WIlliam DePelorgras and the great dragon Ominak, and DePelorgras instructed each and every individual to take a handful of the sand which had once composed the object, and to take it home with them, letting it fall along the way and be mixed and crushed into the dust on the road.
And so, they did, and the object was forever dismantled and lost to time, and some kobold went with the Sanguinarians to help them rebuild, and others went with the dragons to serve them in payment of their debt.
And that is the story of the Great War, and how Dragons became the saviors and masters of the kobold people.