Dragon Slayer

He mentioned something about a strange door in the swamp. You should try and find it.

I was going to fight a dragon, until a dragonkin showed up. They were waiting in the shadows, as if they knew that I’d be there. At first I drew my sword, ready to battle the creature, yet there was an odd sort of gentleness to their stance, as though their attention was very far away. We spoke, and I cannot quite put the conversation into words. I remember they never made eye contact, and their fingers flicked and tapped against them as if remembering some strange sort of music. It was oddly calming and yet I’ve never felt more tense. They warned me that Velgar isn’t the real danger, and they made it clear that my destiny was not to be his bane. There is someone else for that. Someone arriving soon, who will make the dragon pay for his crimes. My destiny lies elsewhere. Working on the true danger – Queen Kuldra, the god-eater. My new friend tells me that I have a part to play in her downfall, and even though I have only just met them, I believe them – as if we have always known one another. I leave now, deeper into this continent. If you find this, adventurer, then do one thing for me? Kick Velgar’s scaley ass. <There is a crude drawing of a knight kicking a dragon’s behind. The dragon does not seem happy with this situation>

I’ve always wanted to be an explorer. To journey far from home, see sights no one has ever seen before. So, imagine my surprise when I get here and see Lumbridge, bloody, castle. Or its twin, anyway. Its walls are crumbling, there’s no way to get inside. It’s surrounded by goblins and for some reason the fires burn blue. Yet the shape, the style, unforgettable. I bet Zanik has a theory about it. She always does. The goblins were all dancing around praising the dragon. They were chanting “Velgar, Velgar, Velgar”, as if his name were a prayer. Like they are calling to him, trying to summon him down. Their leaders all had these strange wooden horns that they blew as part of this chant. It’s clear that they’re emulating something. It’s obvious that this is a clue. I stole one of the pieces, so I can get a sense of the shape and I think I have an idea about where else to look. There were symbols on the horns that matches the writing by that door in the swamp. I’ll take a look there next. The best secrets lay buried, after all.

My old mentor, a very wise man, once told me that the best secrets lay buried, so I found my way here. An ancient Dragonkin vault, hidden away in the marshland. The secrets of the creatures once confined to myth. And I’ve found what I’m looking for. The next part of the summoning horn, the device that will bring Velgar down within range of my sword. The dragonkin have created these creatures, these guardians by modifying rune essence into a strange sort of design. Channelling magic in specific patterns, spells layered over spells in ways runes cannot do. This is what I need to complete the horn. Well, that and some materials that resonate with the magic. Maybe dragon tooth for the horn, and something to conduct the power? Bronze feels appropriate, but it’ll need something to lure him. A mystical resonance of conflict and death. I wonder if there are any bloodwood trees on Ashenfall? The sap of one of those would be the perfect catalyst. Something a dragon warrior could never ignore. They grow where death and slaughter are constant. Some really unpleasant place that I really don’t want to visit. Oh well, who ever said adventuring was easy?

Old Vannaka’s an odd chap. Loyal to a fault, but not one to show affection. I still remember how he trained me, instilling me with a hatred for him that pushed me right past the pain. He was merciless, he was relentless, his training made me ache every day. So I took months of resentment and I balled them into a fist and with all of my loathing rammed it right into his face. He was so proud. So proud that I punched him. So pleased with me for bruising his jaw. Because that was the first time I had walked on my new leg, without having to think through every painful motion. He had given me something else to turn my loathing on, that wasn’t myself. That lummox took a broken kid, ready to give up on the world, and turned him into a warrior. He’s a good man, Vannaka, even if he won’t always admit it. So of course, I said I’d join him on this new adventure. I feel like there’s more than just a curiosity here for him. Something deeper. Something hidden. A pain behind the eyes. So, yeah, I’ll help him find what he’s looking for. It’s what a good friend does.