A Brief History of Dragon's Keep-4/29/95

What can I say of the legendary kingdom of Dragon's Keep? Well, I suppose whatever I want, being the foremost authority on the subject. But where shall I begin?
Ah, yes. Long Ago, in the ages where wishes were worth something and Knights dueled and Wizards were not quite so rare, sometime in the early twelfth century I believe, is a time of recorded history where the pages are moreor less blank. However, this hardly means nothing happened that was noteworthy, merely that nobody managed to write it down. At any rate, magic was muchmore powerful than it is now, and Wizards were very skilled at causing this to be and this to cease to exist. However, there was one amongst their numbers who grew weary of making things only to destroy them again, and especiallyweary of the King always telling him what to do. So, on the first stroke of the day of the dead, (November 1, I believe,) he created a spectre.
A spectre, in case you don't know, is a horrible creature. It is almost invincible to normal weapons and all but the strongest magics, and thinks nothing but evil thoughts. It is quite dangerous, being shaped like a human and with razor talons, and can be quite clever in certain situations. This one was particularly crafty, and as soon as he was made he began splitting off into thousands of others, and so doing destroyed his creator. This spectre'sname was Gwymyr, which in their tongue means "bringer of sufferings", and his army of spectres did just that. In but three days nearly all of England was in ruins, and nearly all of its heroes slain.
Shortly following this armageddon, the remaining Wizards banded together and created a hero the likes of which the world has never seen. He was as tall as a mountain, and as strong as a god. In the time it took an evil army to destroy England, he sent them back to their own dimension of hateand despair, and repaired the damage they had caused. However, many had died during the Spectres' rampage, and one village packed up and fled to the mountains. There the pickings were sparse and the times were rough, but there were no Spectres. No, but something far more fearsome, and deadly if angered. Dragons.
There has been much talk and much exageration about Dragons over the pasteight centuries, so allow me to set the records straight. Firstly, Dragons are not evil, rather they lack even the capacity for cruel acts. Secondly, Dragons are not fantasy creatures. As close as I can tell, when "the earth got cold" in the ages of the Dinosaurs, a tribe of Pterodactyls which had evolved basic reasoning found that in the caves it was warmer and more to their liking. Now I could go on forever about their evolution in the dark, but for now I am writing about Dragon's Keep, so I'll save that for some other day. All you need to know of that for now is that they are quite real, and strongly object to self righteous humans who say otherwise. Thirdly and finally, Dragons are not beasts any more than you or I. They are really quite intelligent, and hate it when people try to own them.
Well, with provisions running short, some of the braver citizens planned a raid on the caverns to "liberate" some foodstuffs. As a result, the next week these people returned scorched, heavy-heared and empty-handed. One man, Orep-Tar I believe his name was, fared slightly better. He started late, and was forced to turn back when he became hopelessly lost. However, as he wandered he came upon a Dragonling, orphaned and hungry, who he happily shared his bread with, and which in return followed him faithfully. Just as he was on the verge of despair, the Dragonling which he had recently named Oldurate picked up his fading scent and led him back home.
The reception was anything but cheery.
In this way Orep-Tar and Oldurate were forced to fend for themselves, and Oldurate proved a more than adequate provider. After many years went by, news came to the pair on the smoldering heels of a rather singed messenger boy. Apparently, the hero created to banish the Spectres had snapped from sheer boredom, and was now reaking havoc in the village. As soon as these words reached Oldurate's ears, he grasped them both in his massive talons and soared screaming into the air. Within seconds the air was filled withan army of Dragons, awaiting orders. The battle was fierce, and many a Dragon soldier was wounded, but with the help of a mysterious gentleman with a taciturn manner and a magical blade, they sent him too into the Spectre dimension. It was in this way that the first alliances between the Dragons and the villagers were formed, and in time the people were allowed into the grand system of catacombs, which unites most of the earths' caverns, believe it or not. However, as humans are wont to do, Orep-tar passed away at the ripe old age of one-hundred and twenty-six. I believe there is still a great-great-etc. granddaughter in his old house, a Miranda I seem to recall, and some scattered obscure relations, but then I haven't been there in sometime. -The Gauron of Wyvern
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