The Dragons Bane
Prologue

Deep under a now-ruined castle in the far reaches of the north, an evil dragon sits in his lair, surrounded by gold, gems, and jewels accumulated over hundreds of years. The dragon’s name, known only to a handful of his most senior and loyal dragon cultist followers, is Hithgard. He has grown old since he destroyed the castle and its surrounding city, making his home in the deepest reaches of the dungeons below. Hithgard, once considered ferocious even by his own kind, has become even more powerful over the centuries. However, as his power has grown, so has his tendency to bask in his power, thus it has been many years since he has seen the surface world. All his needs are taken care of by the dragonmen who worship him as a god, under the watchful eye of the dragon cult leadership. There is but one thing that troubles the ancient dragon, and that is the prophecy of his doom, spelled out so many years ago by the three witches, just before he ate them.

“You shall rule the dungeons of man’s northern-most castle for many generations of men. But when the Elven Princess bearing the Voice joins with the two dwarven brothers, one possessing great speed, and the other having the strength of a giant, you know your doom is near. For these three, with the help of some humans, will destroy you as surely as the sun destroys the night.”

“Give the story-teller a beer. I think we could all use some entertainment this night.” Freedar, always willing to oblige his customers, gets a beer for the old storyteller.

“How about the story of the dragon that destroyed Myth Dranor?” prompts a man at one of the tables. This causes the storyteller to pause and think for a moment before beginning his story.

“There once was a great castle called Myth Dranor in the northern-most reaches of the Stone Mountains. This castle marked the farthest point north that man has been able to settle. The castle was big and beautiful, with many splendid spires. Its great walls encircled the city with many rings, each ring showing how the city had grown under each ruler. The people of Myth Dranor were a good, but proud people. Their soldiers were known as the Knights of Myth Dranor, and they were often heralded as the best warriors in the lands of men. Some say this was because of the constant fighting that they endured, for as we here all know, being the northern-most outpost of man has its perils.”

“But their reputation was soon to be their downfall. For their king, after a particularly vicious attack by some dragonmen, over-confident of the great prowess of his knights, vowed to destroy any and all dragonmen wherever they may be, along with any other evil creatures in the lands of men here in the north.”

“This caused a great stir among the dark creatures of the lands, as you can imagine. The dragon cult leaders, fearful for themselves and their army of dragonmen, decided to send a convoy to beseech the help of a mighty red dragon. They told the dragon many lies, but each contained a small amount of truth, thus lending credibility to their lies. Believing that his own life was in danger, the dragon decided to aid them by delivering death and destruction on the heads of everyone in Myth Dranor. Between the dragon attacking the city from above, and a great horde of dragonmen laying siege to the city from the ground, it took but one month each for the great rings of walls protecting the city to fall. Soon, there was naught but the castle itself still standing.”

“Get the story-teller another beer on me,” offers a different patron, noticing that the storyteller’s mug is now dry. Nodding his thanks, the storyteller continues his tale.

“Believing their victory to be at hand, the dragonmen decided to storm the castle. But the crafty king had been holding back his best knights, and in the ensuing battle the knights destroyed most of the dragonmen. But in their battle lust, they made one mistake. They forget about the dragon in their pursuit of the last of the fleeing dragonmen. So intent were they on driving the dragonmen from the valley, they left the protection afforded them by the remains of the city’s ruins and pursued the dragonmen into the open fields surrounding the city.”

“Of course, the dragon had been waiting for just such a blunder on their part. He began to sweep the land with fire, burning all the knights that he could and scattering the few he couldn’t. And before any of the knights could regroup, the dragon used his great speed of flight to completely destroy all those that remained. Thus it was that only a small handful of surviving dragonmen were able to enter the castle and defeat the king and his few remaining guards.”

“The dragon decided that the bottom-most floor of the dungeons was going to be his new home, so he commanded the remaining dragonmen to bring any and all treasures to his new lair. And over the centuries the dragonmen continued to fill the dragon’s lair with more and more treasures. It is said that he now sits upon a pile of gold and gems many times his own size, and that buried in all the coins are magical treasures the likes of which have not been seen in many, many years in the world as we know it today.”

“Well, I’ve got some good news. A messenger just brought me word that our petition to become a chartered adventuring party based out of CrossRoads Castle has been approved. We are to sign the charter at the farewell party for Carmoon’s caravan tomorrow night,” Mizdar informs the rest of the adventurers.

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“Aye, I been tellin’ ye, Wiltos, that we have nothin’ to be worryin’ bout. I been sayin’ that the Lord Muldoon will be approvin’ our charter.”

“Yes, Delgar, you did. I was a fool to doubt you.”

“Of course, now we have to decide on a name for ourselves,” comments Delra.

“And I think I know what name we should carry. It came to me last night while listening to the storyteller when he told the story of how that dragon destroyed Myth Dranor. I say we call ourselves The Dragon’s Bane. May we be the lucky ones that get the dragon’s treasure,” replies Figor.

“Aye, I be a secondin’ the name and the wantin’ of the dragon’s treasure!” states Dimlar.

“Well, unless there are any objections?” Mizdar pauses for a moment in case there are any objections from any of the others. “Here’s to The Dragon’s Bane! May we dance on the dragon’s treasure while his bones turn to dust!”

“I have heard rumors of a pair of dwarven adventurers that came into the dungeons last year. Are the rumors true?” rumbles the great Hithgard in a deep powerful voice.

“Great one, we have not been able to confirm the rumors, as of yet. They started with the ramblings of a prisoner that we captured. We tortured the man to death, but were unable to garner anything from him,” replies the dragon cult leader, a man by the name of Dren.

“And what have you done since then to discover the truth in the matter?”

“We have sent a spy to the castle at the southern end of the valley to see if there is any truth to the rumors, oh great one.”

“And what has this spy found out?”

“He has not yet returned, oh mighty one.”

“Should these rumors be true, I want these dwarves killed at all costs. And I want to know of any elves as well. Do you understand?”

“Yes, oh great Hithgard. We have positioned additional guards in the valley. And should any dwarves or elves enter the valley this year, we will know it, and they shall be dealt with, oh great one.”

“They had better be, or you will take their place!” roars the dragon.

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