Of Stone and Fire

"There weren't always dragons in the Valley." The storyteller whispered as smoke rolled from his pipe. "Many stories start off this way, but none except the old ones can lay truth to this claim."

It was cold around the fire tonight. Most of the village youth were gathered around the storyteller, some eager for entertainment, some trying to distract themselves from the mob currently waiting in a queue to get into the village. The storyteller was capitalizing on peoples fear of the unknown. There wasn't anyone in the village who had ever seen a dragon, nor anyone who had even heard of someone who had seen a dragon. That all changed tonight.

"It is said the first dragons were put here by the gods as punishment for the War of the Races." The storyteller, Bjorn, let his last statement sit with his crowd as he took a drag from his pipe. The smoke flowed out of his mouth, thick and heavy, to where it looked almost unnatural. The gray smoke from his pipe mixed with the dark smoke of the fire and began to swirl around the steady gathering audience as Bjorn worked his magic.

"It was to be the final conflict of the war. All five races, one last battle. As the horns blew and the drums beat, the ground began to shake. The mountains started billowing smoke, and with a great roar, the mountain tops exploded raining fire and stone down upon the battlefield. Dragons followed from the mountain tops." Bjorn's smoke started taking the shape of a large black dragon, circling around the fire.

"Hundreds of dragons were flying and clawing their way out from within their mountainous prisons. So many that they started to blot out the sun above and cover the land below. These weren't the same dragons we have now, big as castles and intelligent enough to speak." Bjorn waved his hand through the smoke and it transformed into a dragon the size of a large dog. It had small wings and a short neck.

"They may not look like much, but as the armies of the five races soon found out they were still deadly. The armies found themselves surrounded by these premature dragons. All thoughts of hostilities against each other gone. All were now focused on their own survival. With hide as tough as boiled leather and claws as sharp as swords the dragons began tearing into the armies from all sides. After heavy losses the tables were finally turning as the armies began working together to stave off their impending doom. Tens of thousands of lives were lost by the time the last dragon like creature was dispatched. All thoughts of conquest and bloodlust purged from the minds of the monarchs of the five races."

"So that was it then?" a young girl asked, looking up at Bjorn as he took another hit of his pipe and his shadowy dragons faded away. Bjorn looked down at the girl, an amused smirk on his face as he blew out the last of his enchanted smoke and put away his pipe. The smoke swirling around the girl before disappearing into the night.

"Well of course that cant be it." a boy a few years older than the girl spoke up as he stood before his friends. "The War of the Races was supposed to have ended over three hundred years ago, and there are still dragons now. Real dragons." The youth said turning on Bjorn. "Not these little monsters this old storyteller has dreamt up."

Bjorn stared daggers at the boy till he sat back down, all the confidence gone from his face. Bjorn looked around the group of villagers, not all children anymore. Plenty of adults had joined the ring around the fire since he began his tale. All of whom knew better than to speak against him, the only old one left in the village. Or so he thought.

"You are half right young man." Bjorn said reclining back in his chair. "This isn't the end of our tale, but I did not dream up these 'little monsters' as you called them. In fact these small dragons, or pre class dragons, are still around today. In greater number than any of the large dragons, or goliath class dragons."

Bjorn waited to see if anyone else would speak up before he continued. They did not.

"As the five armies were collecting what was left of their dead and taking stock of what they had left, another roar rang out from deep within the mountains. A roar that sounded like thunder, except coming from beneath the ground. Then another roar came. And another. And another." Bjorn was whispering at this point. His voice getting lower and lower and his audience falling deeper into his spell as he spun his tale. Leaning in closer and closer trying to catch his words. Suddenly Bjorn stood up from his chair and threw his arms up into the air. The fire pit roared towards the sky getting at least fifteen feet taller. The smoke from the fire transforming into dragons, clawing their way out of the fire.

"The mountains released the last of their prisoners, the goliath dragons." Bjorn shouted into the fire. "They clawed their way out of the mountain tops and took to the sky. They only numbered just over a hundred, but each one was twenty feet long with a wingspan to match. The roars they let loose made the armies drop to their knees and cover their heads. By the time they looked back towards the sky the dragons were gone. Only smoke trails were left in their wake."

"Enough of this." a man wearing tight black plate armor with a red gemstone set into the center of the chest piece said as he put his arm on Bjorn's shoulder from behind. "You should know better than to speak of the dragons in a public setting after an attack such as the one tonight." the man said as others dressed like him started to disperse the crowd. The man lowered his tone and dipped his head before looking back into Bjorn's eyes. "Even for an old one it is a dangerous time to be spreading stories of the beasts."

Bjorn didn't back down from the man in armor. "What business does a kings guard have meddling in the affairs of us who are untethered by time?" Bjorn almost got away with his remark before a second guard grabbed his arm and a third stood behind him. Bjorn didnt look surprised but he definitely felt unease. There were few reasons why an old one would be approached in this way. While Bjorn knew he was not guilty of any resent crimes that would warrant such a response from the king, there was still another reason he could be taken into custody.

"We mean you no harm or disrespect, Bjorn of the old order. But the monarchs are calling. All old ones are to return to the capital."

"So the time has finally come." Bjorn said to no one but himself. "Well over three hundred years since the order was established. Since those who were present at the dragons arrival stopped aging."

"Change is coming old one." the guard said turning towards the gates. "The order has been recalled, all of you."

"The time for stories are over." Bjorn said as he dropped his cloak in the fire. Revealing his face for all too see. A man whose lived for over three hundred years, and didn't look a day over thirty. Wearing the same black armor he had the day the dragons appeared. Only now it was enchanted. Same as all other armor that was worn on the battlefield that day. Waiting for the day the dragon horde would return.

The guard looked at Bjorn then started walking towards the gates. "Very true storyteller. Now is the time for war."