The Greed Beget the Dragons

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Had they listened to their forebearers there would not be. The children of this valley's first settlers were instructed with a firm hand. "Hold you greed young ones. The bounty of this valley is a great gift. You should take what you need and return what you can. The gods will send a plague of dragons and drakes should you not." Those who were cast from their homes and who were gifted this new valley spoke this line. They tried all manner of education to ensure their children would learn. So that they too would not fall victim to theirselves and dragons. As the generations of man crept by this sage advice crept away. Just some five years ago when man still lived inbetwixt these great mountains only a few knew to fear. Most who called this place home thought dragons were a mere myth. Instead the only issue was, who could have the most. Who could take the most. Whose greed would consume the valley first. This way of thought was prevelant only for a generation.

During the Era of Greed, the menfolk of the valley had become week. They relied on foriegn slaves for the toil that their ancestors did. The gaurds were lax, they wore swords only to intimdate. The women expected nothing but oppulance from their husbands. Babes were reared with wetnsurses, only the faint memory of their mother's smell left behind. Toddlers and children watched indulgence, debauchery, infidelity, and all manner of greed. Those who sired them did nothing but want. "So shall I. It is my right." Thought the young. Men, women and children, all lusted for everything. They gave nothing, not even a parsel of kindness to their slaves. Those who did quickly became slaves themselves. The valley was lush and beautiful, but the humans therein were ugly and shallow.

A traveler from a plain once came to the valley. He had walked through forests, hills, deserts, and river basins. He had seen all manner of life and man. Shortly after leaving the valley his mother recieved a message via hawk. He mentioned his love for her, the great things he had seen, and a desire to come home. The cause of his longing for home was thus "I went to a certain valley. The scenery was sublime. Trees lined the curves, waterfalls cut lines in the hills, and animals danced lithely benath the divine mountains. Yet the men there had crafted a hell below this paradise. They were vile creatures who knew only avrice, lust, and greed. I shudder to call them humans. It pains my heart to believe they are the same species as you my kind mother. I wish to come home so that I may purify my heart." His mother wept tears at this. Even those of the plains had heard the history of dragons. She prayed the gods would allow here son safe passage before they arrived. There was no doubt for all who knew of the valley: the dragons would come. The people of the valley were blind to this prophecy.

The year the dragons came was much like the other years of this Era. The valley was occupied by mansion from one edge to another. Men beat their slaves. Wives tortured those whom their husbands raped. The children tormented enslaved parents and children alike. In one mansion the owner's grandfather laid on his deathbed. He begged his grandson to return to the teachings of their ancestors. He pleaded for him to repent, to return the stolen bounty. Perhaps then the dragons would let them go free. The grandfather did this not for himself. He knew his end was nigh, but perhaps he might save his offspring. The owner would have none of it. The grandfather passed amidst tears and regrets. Thus the last of a generation who held at least partly to the teachings passed. The gods wept along side the grandfathers soul. They comforted him admist the regret that twisted it like a toul being wrung. One god's brow fell firmly above his eyes. They sloped vilolently as though two mountains had been pushed together.

Hours after the passing of the anguished grandfather a voice spoke out from the heavens. The voice reached those of the plains, forests, deserts, and river baisins. It spoke one dire sentence. "Those of the valley, you have forsook the teachings, the dragons will befall you." Men elsewhere shivered like a child abandoned in a snowy winter. Families of those enslaved let loose tears that shook villages. Mankind wailed for the innocent that would suffer with the demons of the valley. The residents of the valley however, heard the venomous decleration and diregarded it. The foolish ones believed it was a product of their drunkenness. Their slaves fell to their faces and prayed. Many slaves fell that night, not to dragons, debris, or panic, but to cruel masters. Slaves were killed, beaten, emberassed, and violated for three hours after the decleration. Some had tried to run, some prayed, and some hugged their loved ones enslaved along side them. Three hours after the decleration of the enraged god; a noise washed over the valley.

The procession of dragons flew in from the south. Their wings beat the air so hard that a hermit on the mountains described it as though ten thousand mountains had collapesed at the same time. The noise reached those to be punished, then the flames kissed their bodies and things. When the morning sun peaked into the valley it was met with a blaze to match its own. Another valley had been scorched. 598 years after the last one. Starting at noon that day the gods of the heavens, mankind of the earth, and the heavens themselves wept for six days. The torrential downpour of tears was for all the life that was burnt alongside the guilty. Innocent babes, slaves, travellers, beasts, flora, and spirits.

The begining of the next year villages from across the land gathered at the valley. They offered prayers and offerings for the pure. With solemn eyes they set to building a momument as a reminder. A monument to honor. A monument to warn. May the gods never have to call the dragons to a valley ever again.

You may discount this as myth. You shoulders may shrug as you sigh "nonsense." Allow me to be the first to warn you. The gods and the dragons will take all should you push them too far. You will not be viewed as an excellent merchant, king, or craftsmen should you incur their wrath. You will be a demon who ushered poor souls to a firey death. Your averice, lust and greed kill not just humanity within you. They also rob your fellow human of life. Heed this history of the valley. A place not named, a place bathed in a sea of flames.

-- year 623 Valley fall 1, The plains historian Tholack Fret.