The Birth of the Fall

 In the age of the venari, the various races paid homage to their ruling body. The venari King Larnial Everbright oversaw the day-to-day affairs of his people both immortally and with divine mandate. 

 The Everbright line was allegedly sired from the seed of Lochrian himself, having descended from the heavens to choose a bride from the stock of his self-created peoples. He was so taken by her perfection that he allowed her passage to the heavens. Not long after their union, she had borne the god a son. He was announced to be the future King and leader of the Shani peoples. The venari had never been ruled by a singular body before, and there were those amongst them who looked down upon a forced rule of law from someone of their kind. 

 The venari peoples of the llalar tigas sought guidance from Great Mother Gaia, the highest goddess of all creation, who supported her son’s choice but saw the danger in forcing a ruler, obviously favored, on a people who knew no previous ruling body. Discreetly, she guided those who wished it, away from the central lands of Aidia and gave them a domain with the great trees, as old as creation itself, the wilds of the Tsurani Parum.

 In secret, Gaia counseled her son and asked him to rethink his forced appointment of his son Larnial as lord of his kind. But Lochrian refused, claiming he maintained faith in his son to lead the venari as no other ever could. Gaia voiced her concerns again and left Lochrian, telling him not to fall prey to the hubris of the mortals he loved, lest he run afoul of other issues.

There was one other race older than the venari, one whose power and promise were beyond equal. The Dragons. Mightiest of all of those ancient, magnificent creatures was Lochrian's eventual nemesis, the massive wyrm, Gondifur. 

Gondifur was once a terror of the skies, given to roam as he pleased, and it was his greatest joy to destroy, spreading fire and death to all those he saw fit. Shani warriors desperately tried to combat him, but weapons, magic, nothing could seem to stem the tide of his destruction. This continued until Lochrian had seen the light of the magnificent Elven spirit stones begin to falter. He descended to the mortal realm in the guise of a paragon Shani specimen. With a sword forged of white hot starlight, he stole into the beast's favored lair. The young god and ancient dragon battled for six unbroken days and nights. Through blade and claw, fire and magic, the two carved out much of the deep earth according to this legend.  The impossibly vast networks of gargantuan tunnels, caverns, ravines, and grottos, forged upon the anvil of their fury. They ravaged the superstructure of the land beneath, each fiercely battling, searching for a weakness or opening, but neither able to land a telling blow. Eventually, Lochrian held a forestalling hand to the massive dragon and approached, asking why it sought to destroy the Shani. 

To this, Gondifur cocked a curious look at the young god and replied matter-of-factly, "Because it is the way of things. I am strong, they are weak. And so, they are my prey."

Stunned at this cold, uncaring mentality, Lochrian countered, "Is it not the duty of the mighty to defend the weak?"

The Great Dragon laughed at him, the cold stab of humiliation pointed at the young god's pride. "What does the predator care for his meal's feelings or dreams?"

Confused and angered more so than ever before in his entire existence, Lochrian brought to bear every ounce of his power and strength, exploding out at the speed of thought and bashing the gloating dragon with the butt of his divine sword. For Gondifur, the world went gray, then black...  Returning to the surface world, Lochrian brought before the frightened peoples of the venari the humbled form of Gondifur, the Terrible Wyrm. He declared the beast defeated and returned to the heavens, where he sought to contain and imprison the beast.

Over the span of decades, Lochrian and Gondifur became acquainted. He began to hold the dragon in high regard for a great many things. He tested the waters of detached council and unemotional advice, finding the creature's insights invaluable, if not distasteful at times. He sought also the hidden and forgotten histories and knowledge that only Dragon-kind could know. After much discussion and pleading, Lochrian convinced the beast to part with an old tale of prophecy wherein great doom and destruction were avoided through the union of a god and a mortal. Gondifur confessed, in confidence, that he had made himself so evil to attract the attention of an ambitious being who could be counted on to fulfill this prophecy and thus avoid a cataclysm. After that day, neither ever spoke of the prophecy again, but one day, Lochrian peered down upon the light of his people, and one had blinded him with its magnificence; with her brilliance.
...

Lochrian was so smitten with his new wife that he no longer came to visit Gondifur. No longer did he come to trade stories and riddles or to listen to the old Draconic lore that his ancient draconic mind had kept over the millennia. When Lochrian had returned to see him upon the eve of the birth of his son, Gondifur requested the god, in celebration, and perhaps playing on the good-naturedness of the day. The old dragon had requested his freedom. Lochrian could not forgive the near genocidal rampage of his chosen people and denied the plea for return to the mortal realm. He did, however, concede to release Gondifur to roam freely, the lands of the gods. Whereas once, the dragon's prison and home was being chained to a large granite rock in the middle of the great Celestial Sea, Gondifur was now left to roam as he wished. The former captor was secure in the knowledge that he could not be bested or beaten in his own realm.

In those early days, the gods of the pantheon were virtually unchallenged. There existed no known force in the universe that was strong enough to openly stand in defiance or pose a threat... or so it was thought.

So it was that Larnial grew from infant into a young man under the tutelage of his immortal father and venari mother. He was taught strategy and diplomacy, as well as etiquette and history. Lochrian's divine nature was kept hidden from Larnial in his younger years. The juvenile Shani king-to-be showed immense promise and aptitude for learning, and his personality was severe. All were qualities of a born ruler, a leader of a most regal and honorable people.

But, Deep within the dark and forgotten reaches of the vast celestial realm, Gondifur's sinister plan had begun to bear fruit. Larnial's ritual to be recognized as a man in Shani society, had caused a celestial anomaly due to his half-breed nature. The phantom eclipse in the heavens briefly illuminating the hidden path to the forgotten husk of A titanic celestial dragon, long dead, its worshippers having moved on to Gaia or away from the heavens altogether. Gondifur devoured the desiccated corpse, digesting the decayed, rotting flesh and ash-dry bones. The old evil beast found himself possessed of power the likes of which he had never known. When finally he had returned to the valley of the gods, almost a century had past and Larnial had been crowned king amongst his people. 

Lochrian was in meditation, away from his earthly form and unreachable in the heavenly realm, while his mortal wife, Loril Anillia, was at home within their earthly estate. Gondifur, possessed of unbelievable power, Shape-shifted into Lochrian and surprised his wife. He lied, exceedingly well, saying that he had returned early, that he could not be apart from her for so long. He took her and had his way with her there in the bed chamber and ravaged her in ways she had previously never known. When it was over, He made himself known to her and warned that if she ever told Lochrian of their doings, he would descend upon, not only her, but all she knew and loved.

When Lochrian, her true Lochrian, had returned, he had sought to lay with his wife and professed vague knowledge of an ever-growing darkness in the distance of his vision. A great storm gained strength upon the horizon of time and the flapping of wings in the distant shadow. Terrified of his words, Loril feigned ignorance and listened politely to her husband's words.

Unable to intervene directly, Gaia saw the ruse for what it was. She had sent visions to her followers in the Tsurani Parum of blood and thunder falling from the skies and a great and evil tower standing tall amidst the carnage. Destruction fell upon all that the venari peoples had built through the millennia. The destruction had a face. It was that of her most prized creations, second to her sons and the world around them, the dragons.

Other beings shared the heavens with Gaia and Lochrian. His brother, Dakkor, Master of the Path Unseen, Lord of the winding path. Also, the ascended sage brothers Manupka and Pandor whom Gaia has seen fit to raise up to the heavens as eternal lore masters and guardians of secret knowledge. Others had existed as well. Haileyal was a powerful spirit of Gaia who saved her young dragons from a great plague and who trafficked resources and healing throughout the land despite the cost to her own health and, eventually, her life; such was the terrible nature of the sickness that it could corrupt spirits. The Great Mother had lifted her up, moved by her amazing selflessness. Also, among the lands of the Celestial were the upstart deities of the vermin race, the goblins, as well as more obscure powers.
Although much of the Valare Bantas (or the Dwarves) paid homage to Dakkor in the name of Kiven Isä and Gaia as the Earth Mother, several had begun to worship their great King and ruler as the Dwarf Father and slayer of beasts. It was in that last realization that Gaia and Dakkor had begun to formulate a strategy to save the world.
...

With a heavy heart, mortal emotions poisoning his immortal mind, Lochrian wept at the bedside of his fallen wife. Her non-divine body, failing with the rigors of childbirth. As a rule, mortals who consort on any level with the Divine are not allowed to be delivered by them. Medicines and magics failed to slow the ebbing away of his precious wife's life force. In the dark of their bedchamber, Lochrian sat, holding his baby girl and possessed of every emotion in the mortal spectrum. He could feel her strength and power even more so than with his son. But something was different. Some fundamental aspect of her being was strange. Her skin was soft to the touch, but diamond-hard. He named her Loril'il Celare, meaning Light in Shadow. Ironically, it was in the shadows that Gondifur watched. Coming to Loril'il in her dreams, tempting her to defy and teaching her to question and scheme. He showed her the secrets of her blood to reach her potential and bred a deep-seated jealousy of her brother.

During this time in the world of mortals, violence was escalating. Dragons, previously thought to have been asleep or absent, attacked en masse. Flights of the ancient beasts fell upon the Tsurani and the fledgling kingdom headed by Larnial, Bet Loril'anaí (City of Golden Light), and the Valare city of Khâv Mak'Kadai. It did not take Lochrian long to sense the source of these attacks. Their signature cried of his old acquaintance, Gondifur...

Many years passed, and the dragon insurrection gave no indication of yielding. But, upon the eve of Loril'il's right of maturity, the sky was darkened by the form of a titanic winged tyrant whose mass blocked out the sun and forced terror into the hearts of the bravest warriors. Vormagoth, an ancient evil brute of a dragon and an elder amongst the Council of Wyrms, A remnant from the dawn of mortal creation when the Shani were not more than confused bipedal animals given life by the blood of their creator. He laid siege to the Everbright estate and its surrounding city until little but rubble remained of the house that was her late mother's. The servants and acolytes had been destroyed or devoured in a matter of minutes, leaving Loril'il to face the monster alone.  To his supreme horror and confusion, he was unable to lift fang or talon against her. 

Using arcane powers shown to her by the shadowy figure in her dreams, she slew the beast as he looked on helplessly. With his final dying breath, Vormagoth swore a curse to Gondifur, damning his perfidy. As an ancient, Vormagoth was powerful. Loril'il could feel the essence and strength of its soul ripped from the shell of scale and muscle and absorbed into the fabric of her being.

When Lochrian appeared to aid his daughter, He found himself too late to the fight. She had stood victorious, unarmed and, as far as Lochrian had known, untrained in the ways of magic and dragon slaying. He simply did not know how it could be so. She was half-God, that much was true, but there were limits to even the Gods' powers. There were too many questions that needed answers, too many variables and unknowns. But Lochrian knew in his immortal heart that the answers had lain with his Draconic once-nemesis.

When he was found in his otherworldly abode deep in the newly carved labyrinths and tunnels of the Deep Earth, Gondifur lay upon an impossibly large mountain of precious metals and treasures amidst a pride of females who stood at attention when Lochrian appeared.

"We have business, Dragon." Lochrian seethed. "Business of false prophecy and special children."

"Yes, how fares my daughter?" Hissed Gondifur with a father's pride when asking about Loril'il.

"Your Daughter?" Lochrian demanded with Inhuman hatred burning in his breast. "So that is the way of it, then? I spared your life, gave you to roam in the lands I call home... How dare you?"

"I am powerful, and so, the weak are my prey. This is the way of things."

"As I stand here this night, my wife's blood upon both our hands, I shall show you what Powerful means!"

Lochrian's enraged Form grew to the size of a titan and called to his jeweled Morning Star and waded in swinging. The great head of the weapon soared in quick, devastating arcs, crushing skulls, necks, and wings until Gondifur's harem was all but destroyed. Twelve dragon mares lay dead or dying around the raging god. A massive bolt of multi-spectrum lightning touched down beside the Lochrian. In its wake stood his brother Dakkor. 

"I've seen enough of this, Brother. I'll not let you endure this alone. He has become stronger than you know."

Dakkor and Lochrian attacked the evil dragon with all the might and savagery two godly beings could bring to bear, and the heavens opened up with their assault, reality itself seeming to lend a hand to the sons of Gaia. The Celestial power that the dragon had consumed had shielded his form from the worst of the onslaught, and with his newfound might, Gondifur resurrected his slain mares. They rose and set upon the two gods with previously unknown power and ferocity.

The Master of the Winding Path would not be outplayed. As planned, Gondifur was occupied with controlling his newly undead creations. In secret, Dakkor had learned of Gondifur's secret ascension and found the remaining scraps of bone from the ancient dragon corpse, having Manupka and Pandor craft twenty-four runed blades of indescribable power from the remains. Larnial's armies stormed in from magical rift gates, allied with the Valare Bantas under the banner of the Great Dragon Slayer and Dwarf Father. The massive army charged fearlessly into the fray, rallied to impossible feats in the presence of their Gods made manifest.

It was said that Gaia herself looked on proudly as her sons stood united beside their mortal worshippers to banish Gondifur's evil from the light of creation. While the hordes of Shani and Valare battled the undead dragons, Larnial and the Dwarf Father ambushed mighty Gondifur himself, leaping onto his broad back and piercing him repeatedly with the rune blades.

With its dying breath, Gondifur cursed Larnial. "All you know shall come to ruin. All you love shall come to hate you and destroy all you have made. Then, with the dying of the light of your kind, you will know I was right..."
...

In the years following the fall of Gondifur and the creation of the legendary Rune Blades, dragon-kind was diminished significantly. Many of the wiser, evil ancients fled the plane and found comfort elsewhere, while those who remained faced the terror that Loril'il, or as the dragons had come to call her, Khar Tiama, Lady Dragonbane. She had left the ruins of her childhood estate and set up a new fortress in the Il-Karthak Basin. A massive tower manned by an army of Shani and Valare as well as her most devoted student and, one day, lover, Barh'Amet, stood tall, their sole purpose being to wipe the forces of the evil dragons from the face of the Aidia forever. 

She named this Fortress Sharûd Khar...