The dragons seemed to be a turning point.
They were lost the annuls of history, and had returned. They were travelers tales, they were something that happened far away. Then they appeared in our country, and in our city.
We thought the dragons were the blight on the landscape, the trouble that we feared.
How little we knew.
There were adventurers that arrived in town looking for fame and glory and group after group went to try and deal with the dragons. One of them must have succeeded, because the dragons were gone that summer.
What we didn’t know, or didn’t realize was the dragons were not the problem that we need worry about. It was trimming the bloated tree of local nobles, pruning off the dead weight from diseased branches.
If the dragon was a deterrent, or a victim, like us – I’m not entirely sure. What I do know is that one of the adventurers that arrived to take out the dragon, and there is much speculation on which one it was – also had among their number one who released Amalus’es wrath upon the countryside.
The undead have made their way to our roads, to our cities. The farmers are in peril, and the army, the guard, and the mercenaries are stretched thin. Tynerion’s forces long since traveled east, and they recruit still.
We still see the dead walk, but in far fewer numbers, but now there are reports of a new menace that walks the world coming from the same husk of a cursed city – metal statures, or metal men that attack the dead, the orcs that flee before the dead, and even the men who stand against both the orcs and the undead.
We hear reports of these metal men, and their number is only said to increase, and they are said to be moving this way.
It is in these moments that I have a heavy chuckle, and wish for only days that we feared because of the return of dragons.