Fatalis

(Lore WIP)

Ancient breeds are a curious phenomenon. Many of them originate from a time before the modern dragon breeds were even a twinkle of an idea in the minds of the gods. Magical energy is inherently chaotic, and can be bent by will, conscious or unconscious.

The minds of humans are often preoccupied by what's hidden in the wilds. Dangerous beasts, monsters beyond compare, creatures that have both the power and the will to render you as ashes. And when a volcano begins billowing smoke near a primitive human village, full of fear and doubt, while the magical energy roils...

Fatalis awoke angry. The rage of the mountain incarnate, his coming into being subsumed the energies fueling the volcanic eruption. The mountain calmed, but he could not; his earsplitting roar caused many humans to drop to their knees in fervent prayer for miles around. Fatalis did not, could not, know this.

Taking to the air on wings of dread, the volcanic smoke staining the air around him wherever he went, he flew, seeking territory, a place to call his and his alone. Warning bells and the screaming and chattering of beasts and humans alike were his hallmarks. His breath, that of the volcano itself, scorched the earth and either drove away or killed any human or beast that attempted to challenge him. There were many, despite his terrifying presence, especially humans, since it is a natural human trait to attempt to overcome fear, even when that fear seems insurmountable.

After weeks of flying, he saw a place that looked interesting. Stone built upon stone, a place where the mountains had been tamed. Humans ran about as he flew overhead, his sharp eyes allowing him clear sight of metal spheres being loaded into strange metal contraptions, humans donning shaped metal, grabbing even more shaped metal and even shaped wood. Curious creatures, humans, always shaping things to their liking instead of using things in their natural state.

The castle, known as Schrade, was in total disarray. Great magical beasts were one thing, but a true dragon? The commander of the guard gave the order for archers to take aim and fire, hoping only to distract the thing while the cannons were loaded. Whether he knew that Fatalis was just investigating and not looking for a fight is a matter of some debate.

Shaped bits of wood, feathers, and metal began flying at Fatalis - "Arrows" he would later learn these are called. Some managed to nick his wings, but most fell well short as many of the bowmen could not comprehend the speed at which he flew through the air. His trail of smoke denied accurate gauge of his movement as well, as he would become effectively invisible for a short span of time if he doubled back on himself.

The commander of the guard was swearing as he picked up his lance, masking his abject fear with anger. He yelled at the archers to redouble their efforts and fix their aim, as the heavy crossbowmen finally readied their weapons and waited for the opportune moment.

A sudden barrage of crossbow bolts intermixed with the arrows, the bolts traveling at a much higher speed and catching Fatalis by surprise. One thudded directly into his chest, the metal arrowhead melting almost instantly from the heat of the energy he contained.