Spring, 1423

"Far to the North at the edge of Corioli, nestled between two forks of the Rapidan below the great mountains of Rubniox and Tenyaka, was the town of Stanton. It was a prosperous little farming town, isolated but comfortable, except for their neighbor living on the mountain nearby. For many years this town was terrorized by a young dragon, robbing sheep and travelers from its high mountain domain and even attacking the castle of the Lord of Corioli. As the creature reign of terror grew, the town, the Lord of Corioli, the Freeland Rebels and even the King of Auxia attempted to seize or get rid of the creature and use the opportunity to control the town as well. Finally, there arrived a dragonslayer from Volscia. The hunter found the dragon in his lair and in a great battle defeated the monster. The Stanton Dragon, having lost its fight begged for mercy, and in a moment of pity the hunter spared the creature to use as his mount. In an instant, that terrible creature turned good, and strove afterwards to help mankind. After a great ordeal with much chaos and adversity, the hunter with the dragon managed to drive back all rivals and strike a deal with the people of Stanton, where the hunter with his mount would settle in the community in peace, in exchange for them guarding the town against all external threats forever afterwards. This the pair accomplished for many years with true gusto, defeating bandits and goblins and rebels. They were persuaded to join the Great War and helped destroy the Other Men army at the gates of Caldern. Eventually the hunter settled down and married the Town Elder and gained a child, and his dragon, now one of the most powerful creatures in the land, found a mate and raised a small brood."

The Seanchai stopped his Hurdy-gurdy and sat it down.

"The story should have ended there." He continued. "But good things never last."

"The Miscabbards, of the Scarlet Plague, found the dragon’s cave. While the dragon was hunting the cult sacrificed the creature’s mate and offspring to their false prophet. The dragon returned to a scene of horrific slaughter and thinking the pact and oaths betrayed in fury turned back to his old hatreds and burned Stanton to the ground. The old hunter managed to arrive and call on his ancient act of mercy to prevent a wholesale slaughter. Stopped by his friendship, the dragon spared the survivors of the town, before disappearing back into the mountains. Some say he later destroyed the Miscabbards, others that he was eventually killed by gryphons. A few say that he remains to this day, waiting for his continued vengeance."

After a moment's silence, the audience respectfully quiet, the bard picked up his instrument and continued playing.

"And that, my friends, is the Legend of the Stanton Dragon. You can still visit the ruins of Stanton, and the Dragon's Mountain nearby brooding over it. It is an ill-omened place though, and there are better wonders to see."

***

Road’s End was a lonely little village of six small buildings clustered around a well at the end of the heavily overgrown Old North Road. The homes were barely more than single-room huts, though the rubble and earthen depressions around the village suggested that once a far larger community had been situated here. At one end of the houses was a shack that doubled as a smithy, trading post and a hangout for the local residents, four of whom sat around a table set up under a pergola immediately outside the doorway. A single lantern cast a tiny glow on the quartet, and the clatter of dice explained the purpose of the group. The residents looked poor but comfortable enough, farmers eking out a living on a simple farmstead at the edge of the Wilds. The gamblers looked up at the incoming young Arcadian with bored interest.

“Evening gentlemen.” Jayna stated politely as she stopped in front of the group and swung her pack from her back to her side to pull out her map.

“Gentlemen, hahahaha!” One of the residents got up and confronted Jayna, pulling off the hood of his cloak. A single eye stared at the Arcadian with amusement, one half of his skull seemingly crushed with an encounter with some beast and pieced back with hammered bronze coins. The gambler smiled.

“Only real men are here, ones who have wrestled out an existence from the Wilds themselves.” He then pointed a Jayna.

“Now, who are you? And why are you traveling on the Old Road? Not many people take this route anymore, not since the Isonzo Road was constructed.”

“This was once the Town of Stanton was it not?”

The man with the crushed skull frowned. “That’s an ill name. People don’t like to use it anymore.”

Another gambler spat on the ground before asking. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

“I am Jayna Durham. Daughter of Paul Durham and granddaughter to Logan Durham.”

The man in the back snorted. “So you’re Logan Durham’s granddaughter eh? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. Figures why you’re digging up old bones.”

“Why did you return to the home of your parents?” The man with the crushed skull asked.

“I’m with the Arcadians. I want to free Nalbin from the tyranny of the Jamersonian Emperors.”

The quartet burst into laughter.

“And how would you do that?”

“I am to raise the Stanton Dragon.”

The laughter abruptly stopped. An awkward silence filled the shack. Finally, carefully, the gambler with the crushed skull replied:

“The Mourning Dragon? You want to summon the Mourning Dragon? You do realize the creature is cursed, do you?”

“I know that it felt unfairly betrayed by the people of Stanton. I will correct its mistake.”

“Jayna Dunham, before you do go up there you should know the truth. It was betrayed.”

“By who?”

“Your father. Your grandfather, Logan Durham, was the Forester of Stanton; with the dragon, he protected the town from all outside attacks, while keeping the peace between Stanton and the creatures of the forest were the dragon settled. That ended fifty years ago when your father was in his youth. Paul Durham betrayed your grandfather and the town of Stanton and in a fit of pride showed outsiders the way to the dragon cave. Those outsiders were Miscabbards, and though they failed to take the dragon, they killed its mate. The dragon went crazy; he destroyed the Miscabbards and then burned Stanton to the ground. Only through the intervention of your grandfather was wholesale slaughter averted. The dragon then left and disappeared into his cave, killing anyone who came within miles of his home. Due to the actions of your father, everything your grandfather worked to build in Stanton was wiped out.” The gambler made a swift cut in the air. “One fell swoop.”

“Really.”

“Broke your grandfather’s heart, caused him to distance himself from his son, your father. As a result, your father Paul grew up disillusioned and bitter."

"I was there at the Burning." One of the men in the back stated. "I saw what the flying demon could do. I saw the collapse of Stanton. The dragon may not appreciate the Durham name like you think it may."

The man with the crushed skull nodded at the statement. "The dragon is a curse, Jayna, don’t rouse it up.”

Jayna bit her lip. “But I must try.”

---

The Mountain Goats - Grendel's Mother

Final detail from https://www.furaffinity.net/view/38664563/ by  BlackSunDi with  Viread!