THE UR DRAGON
In the beginning there was only the
Ur-Dragon. It waited and watched in the void. For what, it knew not,
but did so all the same. Then came the soft ones, springing from the
primal mass, oddly bent and not of the world. They fled to the far
realms, finding comfort in remote places.
And still the Ur-Dragon waited and
watched.
Then came the broken ones. Crawling and
capering and writhing across the myriad dimensions. They called and
cried and screamed as they tore and fought with one another. Tiring
with the same sport, they fled to the darker spots, hiding away from
the far realms and those strange denizens.
And still the Ur-Dragon waited and
watched.
From the motes of light came the small
gods, testing their strength and wits against the endless sea of
nothing. They grew larger and took on forms both new and old. Newer
gods came as the older ones faded or died, each generation different.
Then they created the world.
And the Ur-Dragon stirred with interest
for this was something new.
Upon this world they Gods sought to
bring about smaller life, but lacked something to anchor it to the
void. They fretted and cried and quarreled, while the Ur-Dragon gazed
upon their work and saw the flaw.
“Little gods,” it spoke, “I will
help you with your world, but I request a favor.”
His words caused the gods to quake for
they knew not the source and stood in awe at the ancient being. “How
can you help?”
“I will give you my body to build
your world and it shall make it complete. All I request is that you
allow my children to live upon the world without care.”
“If you can do this, then we agree,”
they said after a great discussion.
“So it is agreed, so it shall be.”
And the Ur-Dragon tore his body in two. From his blood and entrails
sprang Tiamat and Baphomat. The Primal Dragons. They carried a
fraction of their progenitors knowledge, knowing only the bargain and
that the world came forth at its sacrifice. Thus, the gods claimed
the land and air and water for their own and honored the Ur-Dragon's
children.
The siblings traveled across the land
and space, finding new things and celebrating life. Children sprang
forth from, taking to whatever and wherever they felt. Many ignored
the gods, considering them unimportant as they carved domains along
side the mortal creations.
Wars broke out across creation as the
Gods quarreled with each other, the Broken Ones, and the Soft Ones.
Amid this, the dragons carried on, for their mandate came from an
older power and none could gainsay them. In time, others sought their
aid, turning to the Eldest for support. Good and evil sent emissaries
to tip the balance in their favor.
Thus came the Sundering and the Plague
of Dragons.
Walks-Brightly-In-The-Stars curried
favor with Baphomat, enticing the male with stories of glory and
being the first amid equals. Tekcgreljw'Gtkeial'tkeann or The Clever
One spent centuries negotiating the favors of the dark realms and
kept company with Tiamat, wooing her with words and wits and wiles.
Neither could be convinced without support of the other, thus the
emissaries were traded.
For all his goodness, Walks-Brightly
considered the male form superior and looked down upon the female
Eldest. His audience consisted of lectures and words that bordered
just on the side of insulting. During one of the debates, Tiamat
pointed out the angel was not male, nor female, thus his logic did
not follow. To his credit, Walks-Brightly did what no one else had
ever done before or since. He slapped the female Eldest.
Religious scholars all agree that
Walks-Brightly didn't survive Tiamat's fury, nor did his entourage
save a single, lowly Archon that prostrated itself on the floor and
begged forgiveness for his master's stupidity. They also agree that
Tiamat took off the demi-god's head with a single swipe and devoured
it, consigning the immortal to a humiliating demise. What they don't
agree upon is the assertion that the Eldest “shat down his neck and
threw the body at the feet of demi-god's master.” This question is
never asked of dragons, who find the topic amusing and infuriating.
The Clever One took audience with
Baphomat engaging in debate and banter to show that not all glory is
won by combat. That the brain held more power than any muscle. Thus a
series of tricks and japes, culminating in a miscalculation by the
demon. It gave the male Eldest a torc of silver, saying that it would
enlighten him. Thinking that it was a symbol, Baphomat gave it to a
favored servant who donned it. The electrical charge turned the
mortal to dust in a flash, while barely tickling the now furious
Eldest.
Visitors to the Platinum Citadel walk
before a crystal column that encases The Clever One. Still alive
after many thousands of years. First time visitors are kept in this
room for an hour listening to the weeping of the insane demon as it
begs for the occupants to ask the male Eldest for its freedom. An
escort will explain the demon's crimes and should he/she be asked.
The smart ignore the whispers and focus solely on their business.
Those who plead the demon's case find themselves and their companions
ejected from the realm with a warning never to come back. In some
cases, the corpses are all that are dumped at the borders.
Ambassadorial staff run a large betting pool on the chances of
survival of first time visitors.
The confrontation between the two in
the aftermath rocked the world. The siblings quarreled and bickered
and finally fought. Many have sought the domain they shared, but do
date none have found it or its ruins. Their conflict left nothing
recognizable and even the Gods hid as the pair flattened mountains,
diverted rivers, and quite literally remade the world. Too evenly
matched, they would've fought to the death except for a congress of
dragons asked them to stop. Twelve of the youngest, the newest
litter, wept at the sight of their fight and plead for peace.
In that moment, the Eldest paused and
looked upon the youngest and the ruins around them. Without another
word, the siblings vanished to their private domains where they dwell
to this day. Baphomat works on the side of good to bring order to the
world, while Taimat supports chaos through the machinations of evil.
Thus balance is restored to the world.
Thus ends the saga of the dragons...
But not quite...
The most learned of sages whisper that
this is merely a ruse. That, over the millennium, the Eldest
reconciled and reforged their bond thanks to the Youngest. Once a
century, the pair conceives and births thirteen eggs. Twelve
pearlescent globes and a solitary black one are laid in a nest,
spending a decade in the care of the Youngest. In time, the twelve
are given to other dragons to raise as their own, as the magic of the
Eldest makes it so. In the ravings of Esdaur the White is the single
passage that reads such:
“A black egg sits in the hollow of
the earth, tended by nexus of elements. A century of incubation to
birth forth the Primal. The child of the Eldest, not mortal or god or
dragon. The dragons will claim the world to restore the promise while
heaven and hell burn.”
Dragons scoff at these rumors and
openly mock those who demand answers. Persistent inquiries end with a
personal visit by a dragon or a flight should it require. More than
one powerful priest or mage has found themselves besieged by demonic
armies and hosts of angels seeking to silence them before they
attract much more dire attention.
These are only musings and even the most learned of sage will deny knowing anything of such rumors.
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