Chapter 25: Mortal Kings and Dragon Queens
The King's Residence,
The city of Mithat, Nyrond…
"Are you really a Dragon?" The young man of fourteen asked skeptically as he lounged on his throne, a belligerent look on his face. "You certainly don't look like one."
The court adviser next to him winced slightly in embarrassment at the young King's arrogant tone towards the Emperor, though the man could hardly blame his monarch for his taciturn attitude; the years since the Iuz wars had not been kind to the kingdom. Iuz's dark army had marched across the land burning villages and converting every person they killed into Inferi to swell their army's ranks as they had marched to face the last of the resistance in Urnst near Radighast several years ago. Nearly a third of the kingdom's population had been murdered as the dark tide had practically bisected the kingdom and the capital of Rel Mord had been sacked completely, the royal family's heads displayed on gruesome spikes for all to see. Upon learning of the dark army's defeat at the hands of the Canon Hazen and his court the people had breathed a sigh of relief and many families had rejoiced upon finding their loved ones returning home several days later, whole and well after the battle. The news about the golden Dragon that had returned the dark army's soldiers to normal and uncorrupted living men had been an astounding piece of good fortune as well. As wonderful as the news was, however, a multitude of homes had still been destroyed and livelihoods by the thousands had still been ruined. Without a functional central government the cities had become small fiefdoms in their own right and the country had splintered into factions based around those cities. Many that had been rendered homeless and without aid flocked to the cities to find work and they had quickly swelled to the breaking point with refugees. Tent villages and towns had sprung up around each of the major trade centers like suckling pigs desperate for milk and while the citizens had given as much as they dared, the need was still great. Sadly, their neighbors were of little to no help in their time of need; Urnst's own lands had been ravaged by the army as well though the city of Trigol to the west had tried to send what aid it could. The Theocracy of the Pale had turned a blind eye to the needs of its southern neighbor, unwilling to trade with those they considered corrupted by the dark taint of the army's passing, their zealotry blinding them to the exclusion of all else. The various knightly orders and priesthoods had done what they could to minimize the rampant banditry that had sprung up along the roads in the aftermath as desperate people banded together for survival but even the paladins could not be everywhere and priests were generally only found in the cities except for a few wandering bands of missionaries. Greyhawk had sent some supplies but even that had been meager; as big as the trading hub was, it could not feed or rebuild an entire kingdom. Veluna, Furyondy, and the Shield Lands had been able to send some aid as well but their own resources were taxed, the war having worn them down as well.
When the Dragon had attacked East Fair and forcibly removed Ivid from power soon afterward there had been hope that the Dragon might be able to send aid, for by this time the people were desperate for any help, no matter how faint. Sadly, the Dragon seemed more intent on building his perfect city rather than help those less fortunate. Though some had answered the Dragon's call to relocate to Utopia and find work most were too poor to even consider the long trek. The Darmen traders had temporarily lowered their prices on goods and even granted small loans to help rebuild but it was a small consolation at best. Eventually, however, enough farms had been rebuilt that people were no longer starving and the country began to rebuild itself. One of distant relatives of the old royal family had been found, his bloodline close enough to ensure the unbroken succession would continue. He had been a young boy at the time, barely 9 years old and sweeping floors in a shop in Mithat, his parents having died in the war. The news that he was to be the new king shocked and dismayed him; after all, how could such a young child hope to effectively rule a broken country? He had done as best he could, however, and moved into the King's residence in the city of Mithat where the old monarch had stayed when he deigned to visit the city. The boy had been surrounded by tutors, teaching him everything they could as quickly as they could, about his new role as King while a regent had sat on the throne, dictating policy.
After a few years the boy had decided to take over his duties despite his tutors' protests and now here he sat, insulting the one man, or rather being, who might be able to help him turn his country around, much to his adviser's dismay.
Prometheus, for his part, merely smiled at the young man's insolence. "I would rather not transform into my usual form, your Majesty, I don't think your home could take the stress."
The lanky young man sneered, brushing his long blond hair out of his face as he rested his head in his hand. "So what brings you to me now, Emperor Prometheus? Have you finally decided to look beyond your borders and notice your suffering neighbor?"
"Your Highness!" Hissed the man at his side, his posture tight as he glanced at the boy reprovingly.
Prometheus stood there with his hands folded behind his back, gazing at the King of Nyrond with a closed off face.
"It would seem your tutors have failed you rather spectacularly, young man." Prometheus stated quietly. "I would advise you to obtain better ones but for the moment I will instruct you. Typically it is not considered acceptable behavior to sit when greeting another monarch nor is it considered acceptable to fail to greet said monarch appropriately. You have not given me any consideration for my station but rather insulted me twice in the span of a minute. I must say I have never been treated like this before, King Hadrian. It is a novel but not entirely pleasant experience."
The adviser opened his mouth to attempt to salvage the situation but a swift upraised hand from the boy halted him. Hadrian stood angrily and marched forward until he was mere inches from Prometheus, the boy's eyes barely meeting his face given the difference in height between them.
"You dare speak so in my own throne room?!" The King demanded. "No one speaks to me in such a manner and keeps their head!"
Behind him the adviser moaned quietly in consternation at the boy's rash words.
Prometheus merely raised an eyebrow, his grey eyes boring into the child before him like a stern parent. "You would threaten me so? You are arrogant, young man." He stated grimly, his timbre firm and his voice soft. "One might say dangerously so. After all, to threaten me directly is virtually an open declaration of war. I advise you to think carefully about your next words lest they prove to be not only your own undoing but the undoing of the country you have been given to rule. Do you wish to see your lands destroyed a second time? I, for one, do not."
The young man stared at Prometheus in stony silence before speaking, his voice cold. "These lands are already dead, in case you haven't noticed. Why should I care if more people die? I am nothing but a figurehead, held up on display when the people need someone to blame their miserable lives on. Crops fail? Blame the King. Disaster strikes? It's the King's fault. I was forced from my home and sat on this throne without so much as a 'by your leave'. Why should I give a damn about people who don't give a damn about me? This country can rot for all I care!"
Saying so, the boy spun and marched back to his throne before flopping back onto it moodily.
Prometheus' face softened in sympathy at the declaration before walking forward and kneeling down next to the throne. "Is that what you truly believe young Hadrian?" Prometheus asked in gentle inquiry.
The boy glanced over, appraising the kneeling Emperor before he sighed and rested his head tiredly against the back of his throne. "No…no I suppose not. But still…I thought I was ready for this…I thought…"
"You thought you were prepared for what lay before you." Prometheus nodded. "You were ready to do your best to serve your people but found you had no easy answers to the problems that lay before you. You found rulership not to your liking, that you hated being King. The irony, young man, is that such people often make the best kings of all."
The boy spared him a withered sideways glare. "Yeah right." He snorted.
Prometheus smiled gently. "It is the truth young man." He insisted softly, his tone earnest. "Many in such positions covet such power and will do anything to hold onto it, or they believe it is their gods-given right to rule and thus they are allowed to do whatever they wish without thought to the consequences. But you…you are different. You do not desire power nor do you feel it is right that you be here. And so the decisions you make will be based on sound judgment and consideration. You will make a great king Hadrian, you just need a bit more time to prepare. Learn from your tutors and listen to your advisers but do not rely on them for the final decision in all things must always be yours. Such is the responsibility you bear. It is a heavy burden, but you have the strength to endure it."
"And how would you know that?" Hadrian muttered dismally.
"Because you had the courage to stand before me and speak your mind, no matter what decorum or propriety demanded." Prometheus stated with certainty and a quiet smile.
Hadrian sighed and rubbed his fingers in his eyes before looking at Prometheus, his gaze still bleak. "Since you seem to have all the answers, what do you suggest I do?"
Prometheus smiled gently. "Utopia and Aerdi in general are willing to aid you in the rebuilding of your kingdom. We can negotiate with Darmen for better prices and long term loans as well as help reconstruct your infrastructure. I can even have people help in the reconstruction of Rel Mord if you wish it."
"And what will you want in return for all this good will?" Hadrian asked carefully.
Prometheus nodded. "Always a good question to ask. I do not want anything too specific but it would not be remiss if you considered us allies would it?"
"A formal declaration of alliance then?" Hadrian asked with a sigh, though he already knew the answer. "Very well, I'll have my people write up the document and send it to you."
Prometheus smiled kindly. "Come now, your Highness, you could do much worse than being allied with me. Just think of me as your own version of Veluna."
"With me as King Thrommel of Furyondy I suppose?" Hadrian remarked sarcastically. "Lovely."
Glancing up at his adviser, who was at this point silently seething and giving the King murderous looks, he turned back to Prometheus who had deigned to stand next to him. The boy slowly rose from his throne before he held out his hand, the expression on his lean face tired and seemingly apologetic.
"I apologize for my rash words earlier, Prometheus. I am still…young and inexperienced in these matters as you have pointed out. I would be honored to have you as an ally and trusted friend of the realm."
Prometheus smiled warmly and gripped the King's hand firmly, completing the informal agreement. "You may always consider me a friend Hadrian. Humility is a bitter pill for any young man to swallow and a king it is even more so, but you have done it and that is no easy thing. I am proud of you."
Hadrian gave a wan smile at that. "Do you know it's been years since someone has said that to me? Even my parents when they were still alive."
The Emperor patted the young man's shoulder in sympathy. "Shameful for them to forget such words when they are needed most. But I stand by what I said before, Hadrian; you will be a great king. Should you ever need honest counsel or even just an open ear to listen, my door is always open to you."
Hadrian looked up at him with heavy eyes before nodding silently. Prometheus knew in that moment he would be spending more time with the boy; the child was already weary of the burdens placed upon him and was desperate for someone to cling to in the cold halls of his residence. Always surrounded by people and yet alone in his unhappiness he needed someone of equal station who could listen and empathize with him for few knew the burdens of kingship. Fewer still were willing to lend a sympathetic ear and offer him the outlet he craved. The Dragon would fill that void and in time the King would become his closest ally and friend outside of his close circle of friends while the boy would look up to him like the father he could have had if fortune had favored him differently.
All of this flashed before the Dragon's eyes like a vision from the gods. Davis would have considered it a well-planned strategy, striking while the iron was hot and aiding Nyrond to the benefit of the empire, regardless of whether it benefited the people of Nyrond itself. Beowulf would have seen it as his generous Alpha aiding those in need with no thought to himself or the cost it would incur. Both would have been equally right and wrong.
In that moment Hadrian locked gazes with Prometheus and the Dragon allowed some of his true nature to bleed through, his aura gently flowing from his body with soft golden light. Hadrian gasped softly as he saw the man's storm grey eyes turn a deep rich gold. Drawn to the powerful presence that seemed to envelop him like a warm cocoon as the Dragon's aura flowed around him, he stared into the fathomless depths of the Dragon's eyes. The black iris in the center narrowed to slits before widening slightly and within them the young man saw deep and incredible power that was filled with ancient wisdom and strength. His knees nearly buckled as the Dragon Ascendant allowed his mind to brush against the boy's own in a casual display of power only few could match. In an instant he beheld a multitude of fantastical sights and scenes he could barely comprehend. Thousands of years of history flashed before his eyes as mighty dragons of gold, silver, and bronze clashed against terrible reds, greens, and blacks in horrific battle as they flew over the massive armies of the first true human empire as they battled against their own enemies. Anguishing bloodshed and indescribable beauty alike passed as hundreds of years flashed across his mind. Deep knowledge of innumerable concepts and sciences normally beyond his comprehension became clear to him for an instant before fading. A future too fantastic to believe appeared before him briefly in all its glory before the knowledge of eternity itself became revealed to him as the weight of the Dragon's mind pressed down carefully upon his own, Prometheus allowing him to feel just the slightest weight of that indescribably heavy wisdom and the fortitude required not only to bear it all without complaint but press on towards the future he had but briefly glimpsed into the unending and unknowable ages of time beyond.
The boy knew then what true strength was and his shame increased a hundredfold at his spiteful and rash words. He had poked the Dragon in the eye and thrown a tantrum like the worst child when it dared to glare at him. This creature daily shouldered burdens that would drive lesser men to howling madness and he had dared to sneer at him in his spiteful ignorance.
A moment later the weight receded, leaving the boy gasping quietly, his shoulders bowed and facing the floor in dismay as Prometheus reigned in that immense power. A second later he felt the man supporting him with one hand as his other tilted the boy's chin upward to look him in the eyes which had returned to their previous shape and color with no hint of the divine strength and absolute supremacy he had seen before.
"Take heart young man. Your sins against me are forgiven." He murmured softly as he wiped the forming tears from the young man's eyes with a thumb. "Do you now believe I am who I am?"
"Yes." He whispered hoarsely. "Thank you."
Prometheus smiled gently before gripping the young man's shoulders. Marshaling himself, Hadrian took a deep breath before smiling up carefully at his newest ally.
"I'll be in touch." He said respectfully.
"Indeed you shall my young friend. I or my advisers shall call upon you again soon for we have much to discuss about your future and the future of this world." Prometheus said with a nod. "For now I suggest you ready your armies, I have foreseen that dark times are coming soon and Nyrond must be ready to defend itself. Utopia will aid you as best it can but it cannot be your only shield and sword. Be well and rule wisely, until our next meeting."
Hadrian stared after him in wonder and a hint of fear as the Emperor took his leave without another word.
The Dragonspawn Pits of Azharul
Avernus, the First Level of the Nine Hells
Beyond the vast wastelands of the eternally raging Blood War, within the first Level of Hell proper, there stands the mighty Bronze Citadel from which Bel, the draconic Arch-Duke, commands the Demons of his realm. Within the massive mountains and high hills beyond that great and terrible edifice sits a towering and strong fortress build into the very rock of Hell itself. Surrounded by a massive moat of ever-writhing maggots, any who dare approach must either fly or teleport in order to reach the edge of that great stronghold. A span of five great watchtowers, each constructed into the likeness of one the great Chromatic Dragons, creates a sense of constant vigilance for within this fortress lay the gateway to Dis, the second Level of Hell. The guardian of that great and terrible gateway is none other than the dark goddess of Dragons, Tiamet. Within her labyrinthine and massive lair the terrible 5-headed Hydra lounges on a massive pile of riches, the wealth contained therein enough to purchase an entire planet as she plots the downfall of her most hated foe Bahamut and his kin.
At the moment, however, the dark goddess is less concerned with complex plots as she is the unwanted attentions of an annoying suitor.
"Bel, I have told you a million times before, there is nothing you can offer me that I do not already have or cannot obtain for myself." Tiamet stated in a bored tone, a handful of precious jewels each as large as a man dancing between her claws. The goddess's red head was currently focused on the object of her annoyance while the others either watched idly or focused upon other more important matters.
"Ah but that was then and this is now, my lovely." Bel chuckled darkly as the red-scaled Dragonoid perched on a smaller pile of wealth. "At last I finally have something you desire, or at the very least, have need of."
The white head of the Dragon rolled its eyes in exasperation while the red head frowned slightly in frustration and a hint of curiosity. "And what could that possibly be? Unless you have the head of Bahamut himself on a silver platter in the other room I'm not interested."
The Demon Lord cackled in amusement at the jest as well as the slight interest, something Tiamet had never shown in all of his prior attempts to sway her to his side. "Sadly I do not have the head of your most hated foe in my pocket. But I do have something that will enable you to…obtain it for yourself." He teased gently.
Tiamet raised a scaled eye ridge skeptically at this. "Really?" She asked flatly.
Bel nodded smugly. "Indeed, my dear. For I offer you a portion of my great army, something I have never done for any other."
She paused for a moment in private surprise before speaking. "You would give me some of your army so easily?" She asked in a sarcastic tone.
"Ah, my dear, you should know that nothing is free." He hissed in amusement, waggling a clawed finger reprovingly at her.
The blue head hissed quietly in anger, desiring nothing more than to bite it off though the red head remained in control.
"And why do you think I would want any part of your army?" Tiamet asked arrogantly, privately testing the waters while the black head staring at the Demon Lord intently. "My own hordes of Abishai warriors are more than enough for me, not to mention my spawn in the mortal world. Indeed, I have loaned you and the other Arch-Dukes some of them before."
Chuckling softly, as if he had already sealed a most delightful deal, Bel sat back slightly, his scaled arms folded across his broad chest. "Quite true my pretty. But I hear things, my most desirable Dragon, things that you and the others plot to bring about. I hear of plans and plots that require resources for you to accomplish. Resources that I can easily provide…for a price." He oozed, smiling saucily at her.
The green head shuddered slightly at the Demon's tone, realizing his price all too easily even as the red head seethed. "Do you think I would dare debase myself for one such as you so willingly?! I am no common whore for you to enjoy at your leisure! I AM A GODDESS!" She thundered, making the piles of wealth shudder as potent fire blazed around her fangs, her eyes filled with dark anger.
Bel quickly raised his hands in an appeasing gesture as he quickly balanced himself on the precarious pile of metal and gems. "Calm yourself my divine delight! I meant no such thing! I know not whom you have spoken with about me but I am hardly the crude troglodyte you believe me to be! I would treat you with every courtesy and consideration a goddess of your stature deserves and more! You would stand at my side as an equal!"
"Even that is below my stature." Tiamet growled, glaring at him with several of her heads. "You are no god! Far from it!"
"And yet there is no other closer to you in majesty and power." Bel purred, gazing at her cunningly with his yellow eyes. "You stand as the guardian of Dis and no other Dragon can compare to you in any way. Surely you must be a bit lonely, here in these mountains, with no one to…stimulate your mind and fancy."
"Your desires are as transparent as glass Bel." Tiamet grumbled. "Stimulate my mind, indeed. How you managed to achieve the rank of Arch-Duke I will never know."
"And yet you do not deny my words." Bel pressed, his tone almost gentle as he smiled at her knowingly.
As Tiamet slid a small mountain of gold coins through her talons in consideration, her divine senses felt the presence of a dark deity of strength equal to her own enter her portion of Avernus. Sighing quietly with her five heads, she returned her attention to Bel.
"We will have to finish this…discussion later. I have a visitor."
Frowning at the untimely interruption he nodded. "Do consider my offer, beautiful one." He suggested in a dulcet tone as he stood and bowed deeply to her. "We could do great things together, you and I."
Tiamet merely snorted in response as the draconic figure vanished from her treasure room.
"Idiotic fool." She muttered. "As if I need a companion. Any of my subjects can grant me whatever pleasures I desire. Just because no one wants to bone your scaly hide…"
The Hydra began to shrink in on itself until a well-formed and sinister woman stood in its place, garbed in a form-fitting black robe of Drow silk.
With a thought, the temptress transported herself to her throne room. In the dim and sooty light, the large life-like depictions of each of the world's Chromatic Dragons loomed over all from the sides of the room with unnerving menace. Sitting down in her throne, a pair of enticing female servitors began to wait on her. A few moments later, the doors at the end of the hall creaked open revealing a hooded and cloaked figure. The creature strode forward with purpose until he reached the end of the room. Its rich blood red robes were adorned with interlocking sigils of gold and silver as well as small precious jewels that sparkled in the torch light. The creature's human face was emaciated and only partially covered with flesh, the left side seared away, revealing an empty eye socket and bare cheekbone, his left hand also completely gone.
"I presume you heard every word of that little meeting I had with Nerull and the others?" Tiamet asked idly.
"Of course." The lich god Vecna stated in his deep, cultured voice. "I am curious as to how you knew I was listening in." He murmured.
Tiamet smirked. "The scrying spell you placed upon me before I arrived was not as subtly done as you thought. And yet I knew it would allow you to listen in without the others' knowledge so I permitted it."
A moment later she frowned at him. "But do not mistake tolerance for weakness. Do not try to cast a spell on me again without my permission lest I become wroth." She told him coldly.
The lich smirked, twisting his partially-fleshed face. "You know Nerull will betray you when they have achieved their victory."
Tiamet snorted as she took a wine glass filled with a dark red liquid from one of her servitors. "Of course he will. I would expect no less of him. His pitiful attempts at flattery are insulting at best. He deals in death so much he forgets how to speak with the living."
"And yet you will continue to follow this course of action even though the pact you upheld for so long forbids it." Vecna stated. "Why?"
"The Lord of Secrets not knowing something?" Tiamet smirked as she gazed into the ruby liquid's depths, admiring the refraction of light through it. "My, what strange times we live in."
"Humor me." The lich replied stiffly.
Tiamet merely sipped her drink, drawing out the enjoyment of the moment. It was very rare to see the Lord of Secrets be anything but insufferably smug, after all.
"Simple." The goddess finally stated. "Their actions will ensure the last of Bahamut's contemptible brood are disposed of and I shall deal with Bahamut myself. My followers' participation in the last war was merely a test, to see what Bahamut would do in response. Since he has obviously sent his Herald to marshal his forces I consider the pact between us voided. When this war is done my followers shall pillage to their hearts' content. The dead have no need for material things and the damned will be too far gone in their own misery to care. My children do love their little baubles. When the wealth and magical treasures of this world are ours we shall depart for more pleasant environs. Let the Baatezu have this world, we shall find another which pleases us more. I do wonder, though, what you get out of all this. After all, you're no death god so the wholesale destruction of the mortal world will not increase your power and the others will hardly share their power with you."
"Just as the Baatezu will be reluctant to let you make off with all the wealth and magical artifacts of this world." Vecna retorted quietly. "However, my goals remain unchanged. When I absorbed most of Iuz's power and reduced him to a mortal necromancer years ago, I used his power to enter Sigil itself, the gateway to all corners of reality. Sadly, even with the new powers at my disposal I was defeated before I could make it my own and complete the final stages of my ultimate plan. But I still learned much in my time there; there are secrets to be had in that city and knowledge that can be found nowhere else. Thus I was able to retain the vast majority of his power even after my defeat. Like you, I grow tired of being thwarted at every turn and so I look to other realms of existence. Sigil is barred to me now but there is an alternative." He suggested with a sly smile, his right eye glinting as he gazed at the dark goddess.
The woman raised a curious eyebrow. "And that would be?"
The lich god chuckled darkly. "The Outsider."
The dark goddess frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about? The Outsider is dead. He sacrificed himself at Radigast along with that wretched Canon to allow that damnable Herald to manifest."
Vecna chuckled smugly. "I suppose those who are blind to the secrets of others would think so, but I know better. Pelor and Bahamut may enshroud him with enough power that even I cannot see his innermost secrets but the others around him cannot hide their secrets from me, particularly when they leave the sanctuary of his city and its divine protections. The paltry defenses he has placed in their minds are nothing to one such as myself."
Tiamet frowned as she considered the lich's words before her eyes widened in shock. "But that would mean…!"
The lich laughed in dark amusement. "At last a dim candle flares! Yes. The Dragon Ascendant Prometheus and the Outsider Asher Walters are one and the same!"
Tiamet's mind raced as she considered the implications of this while she forced her face into a semblance of cool boredom. "As interesting as this knowledge is, I fail to see the alternative you speak of."
"And here I thought you showed a glimmering of intelligence at last." Vecna sneered smugly. "Those mechanical creations of his do not originate from Oerth and so he must bring them here from somewhere. He has an inter-dimensional gateway hidden somewhere and I intend to find it!"
Tiamet folded her arms crossly at Vecna's remark even as she eyed him speculatively. "So why disclose all this to me?" She asked tartly. "You are unusually talkative for someone who hoards secrets, how do you benefit from telling me all this?"
"You wish to find a world of your own, do you not?" He asked enticingly. "Aid me in my endeavors and we will both profit. Think of it, a new world free from the influence of not only the gods of light but the other gods of darkness as well. The spoils could easily be immense, especially if the gods there are weak or ineffectual. You and I could rule an entire universe in tandem!" He murmured passionately, his eye nearly glowing with power.
Tiamet remained silent for a moment before she chuckled softly. "An amusing idea. I will consider your proposal and let you know my answer soon."
Vecna frowned at the dismissal. "Consider it, then, but do not take too long." He warned quietly. "An ally would be useful to me but my plans will proceed with or without you."
Tiamet's small amount of patience finally snapped and she glared at the lich, her eyes and face cold. "Insolent creature!" She hissed, her voice dropping several octaves lower and taking on a bestial undertone as a dark aura began to flow around her. "Do not presume to give the Dark Goddess of Dragons orders! You have dared to insult me more than once in my own throne room and my patience with you is at an end! Be gone from my sight!"
Vecna said nothing, merely gazing at her dispassionately for a few seconds before he too vanished in a swirl of dark energy.
Fuming quietly Tiamet returned to her treasure hoard, plans and strategies whirling in her head as she considered the secrets the lich had bestowed upon her and what role she might play in his ultimate goals, including her own perfectly timed betrayal of him.
Perhaps I should give Bel's idea more thought as well, string him along a bit. She mused. At least the damn Arch-Duke pretends to be interested in me. She grumbled mentally as she settled herself on her hoard. And who knows, he might even be a good lay…