Abominable Dragon Lore
“It’s time Sir,” the scout reported. Commander Andres appeared anxious as he nodded in response. It had never been done before, the killing of a Dragon by a human. For the most part Dragons were peaceful creatures, always in company of their Emissaries; the ones chosen by the Gods to be their keepers. But the opening of a particular new door in time had revealed a dark place, a place where sunlight was non-existent, where merely stepping through the doorway sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel it in the air, the presence of something sinister. You could see it in the way the trees grew, twisted and without vibrancy.
Reports had come in from all eras in the multiverse that we simply refer to as, The Continuance. These doorways were appearing randomly in each realm, and what was discovered within them were not the Dragons we had all grown accustomed to. Unlike the Dragons most common to the Emissaries, Fire, Water, Holy, and Grass…these were Dark, back by an evil aura that would unnerve the most steadfast navigator of The Continuance. But this was an opportunity that could not be so easily discarded. Commander Andres had put together this raiding party with one thought in mind. To do what no one had done before. You see. it was the most absolute law in every realm that no human shall carry out a malicious act on dragonkind. Dragons that passed from natural causes, or in battle, were harvested for their precious resources. Dragon Scales were superheated and forged into finest armor and weapons. Dragon teeth and claws were ground into powders and combined and used in alchemy to strengthen formulas and enhance their effects.
The temptation was too great for Commander Andres to ignore. He sent word to his contacts across The Continuance; On the 31st of October, when the night the moon was at its fullest and highest point in the sky, they would strike. Afterall, these Dragons had no handlers; They were wild beasts originating from an unknown door. The spoils from this hunt assured a life free of want for him and his namesake for generations to come.
The Commander emerged from the small tent that they had deployed as a base of operations. The glow of his Fire Dragon armor wrapped around him emitting a warm aura, illuminating even more with the tree cover blocking out the moonlight.
“What’s the latest?” Commander Andres asked the stocky, thick bearded man at the front of the encampment.
“No movement, Commander”, his Lieutenant reported. His voice was a little shaky.
The sense of unease was apparent as the Commander swept his gaze across the 2 dozen men that had committed to this mission.
“Remember boys”, he said. “We pull this off and we are set for life. No one in all the realm will have weaponry like what we can forge after tonight.”
The Commander peered through the light fog that hovered above the ground. The beast was almost completely camouflaged, seamlessly blending into a rockface at the tree line that marked the forest’s exit. It was laying down with its tail curled up toward its mouth. Its loud breathing caused small gusts of sulphury wind to rattle the trees that the hunters were using as cover. Commander Andres gave the signal and the men began to slowly move toward their target. As they approached, the Commander gave another signal, and his lightly armored band of cutthroats fanned out. With Dragon Bone infused ropes, they surrounded the creature. They stood mere yards from their target. From a distance it seemed much smaller than it did now. It must have been as tall as 10 men standing on top of on another. This task should be impossible, but with the element of surprise and the creature asleep they would be able to toss the ropes around the beast with ease.
With one last hand gesture, Commander Andres signaled the Chemist. A slender, but muscular middle aged man approached the Dark Purple Dragon, a hint of magenta glowing from under its scales. With a Dragon Scale spear in hand that was tipped with a potent tranquilizer, he struck the dragon, plunging the spear head deep into the dragon’s skin. He hit his mark directly where the rear leg connected to the creature’s body, the pit of the muscle and tissue was devoid of any protective scales. With an unearthly screech the Dragon cried out in pain. A look of anger and confusion in its eyes. As it attempted to stand, the bindings that were previously wrapped around its legs were pulled tight by the 5 men holding the ropes at each appendage. The Dragon struggled to get up, but the tranquilizer acted too rapidly and was much too potent for the beast to resist.
As Commander Andres unsheathed his sword, he pressed it to the separation of scales covering the Dragon’s heart. With another shriek the Commander slid his blade into the helpless creature down to the hilt, hot blood spraying from the wound. An aura of hate could be seen swirling from the wound. The Commander wiped the blood spatter from his eyes. The moon turned red and thunder cracked. The wind picked up as a dust storm swept over the men, almost as if it was emanating from the Dragon’s wound. The dragon’s head collapsed as a swirl of a curse born of hatred danced across the murder site like a sheet in the wind. It circled around a nest of dirt and sticks before dissipating with a ghoulish moan. As Commander Andres approached the nest he let out a gasp. There were 6 eggs, each at least 4 feet in height beginning to crack, and claws the size of cleavers became visible. What emerged from these eggs could not be explained with words, as no one present had ever seen before what emerged, and no one lived to tell the tale.
The Emissary Council had been dispatching Knights and their Dragon companions for almost two weeks to repel the threat of these abominations. The new Dragons appeared like nightmares from unmapped doorways to terrorize the closest farm town, before vanishing as quickly as they appeared.
The Praetorum was the focal point for all Emissary and Dragon training, and it was there that the Council resided, a collection of some of the greatest minds in the realms. They were the ones who initially sent investigators to determine the origin of these creatures; to make sense of how something like this could happen. Fortunately, once reports came in detailing what happened, it was clear what needed to be done.
What was left of Commander Andres and his men was like something out of a gory horror film. The colorless landscape of the world through this particular door in time was stained a dull red with the blood of those murders. Dismembered bodies were draped grotesquely over rocks, and limbs torn or clawed from their were stepped over as the team pushed closer to the point of origin.
There were sites like this across every realm. The selfish intentions of the victims were clear; to murder these newly discovered Dark Dragons and harvest them for profit. The evil and malicious way that these Dragons were murdered caused their spirits to leave this world full of fear and hate. Some of this dark energy was transferred to the nearby eggs and corrupted them. The Abominations that hatched were never meant to exist and if not for the greed of a few…never would have.
Emissary Adept Belarion approached the first Dragon to be murdered in this most maleficent way. His Dragon companion’s dark purple scales rippled as the muscles underneath them tensed. The poisoned sword that ended the innocent creature’s life was still there, embedded into the Dragon’s chest, unmoving like a sword in stone.
“Are you ready?” Belarion asked his Dragon companion.
The young Dragon nodded in understanding, its eyes filling with tears. As tears flowed from its eyes and conjoined at the underside of its head,
Belarion held a bowl to catch the slightly luminescent liquid. There was a magical air about them. Belarion pulled a bandage from his pack and placed it in the bowl, absorbing some of the liquid. With another look at his companion, the Dragon nodded once more and a cold blue flame exited its jaws and engulfed the bandage. Belarion lifted the now glowing bandage, still wet with the tears of his friend and moved it to the murdered Dragon’s wound. As he placed the bandage over the lesion the water absorbed into the wound, the blue flame circled the sword and Belarion easily slid it out of the Dragon’s chest.
With an aura of what could only be described as relief, the azure flame engulfed the slain Dragon and it started to dissipate, like ash. The flame was bright but did not hurt the eyes, warm, but cool. A sense of ease could be felt as the ash that was left of the body scattered into the sky. The purification had worked and the restless spirit of the Dragon had been put to rest. Belarion’s wrist holopad chimed with alerts as other teams duplicated this ritual. Abominable Dragons were also engulfed in blue flame and what was left were no longer horrifying creatures, but Dragon’s that now needed companions.