Lore Season 2: Nogard's Revenge

Hidden amongst the fallen, safely in the wolven ossuary, the eggs sat undisturbed.

Whispers became murmurs, and hope turned into fear as the origin of the eggs spread rumours like wildfire through the ranks.

Five of twelve, in the darkness where it did dwell

Obsidian armor tessellated from the pits of hell

Truth lies in plain sight, a sacrifice in the night

Chaos shall return, Primordia must needs fight

The die have been cast, the future cannot be changed

Romanced in latin, the runes have been rearranged

A legend thought lost shall be reborn once more

Only those loyal can possibly know what's in store

The grand hall packed beyond belief, eagerly awaited for the Speaker to commence the long-awaited meeting. Now that all the tribes were present, a final snapshot could be taken for the treasury to begin dealing out the loot.

The Speaker implored the wolves to hold onto their reward with pride, as they believed it would be indispensable in what was to come. To ensure fairness, they agreed that the spoils of war would be distributed in a randomized fashion amongst the pack.

It was decided that the wolven families that suffered the loss of their kin in the great war would receive a rare salvaged item for their service in battle.

For the first time in its history the ossuary held more living than dead. The wolves packed the dank chamber to witness for themselves if the eggs had indeed grown in size. A consensus was soon reached, and it held grave portents for their future.

Concern quickly spread throughout the tribes and the distant reaches of Primordia. The eggs were truly growing and what lay inside was anybody's guess.

The Moonspeakers were called in to deliberate on their origin...

Using arcane scrolls, runes, and shared oral history of each Tribe, the Moonspeakers slowly began to piece together the clues.

Eyes widened in terror when they realized the truth of what lay before them.

The eggs were Dragon Eggs.

Carouza was an enigma to the wolves. Shrouded in mystery, few knew its potential until the syzygy. Lycans however, weren't the only consequence of the alignment. A fact the wolves would soon be faced with.

Primordia is home to many astounding creatures, and many that could only be described as hellspawn. Above ground wolves reigned supreme, but below, terrors lurked in the darkness.

Knowledge of the effects of the alignment were lost to time. But those that studied the stars understood the rarity of what was to come.

After the human loss in the great war, technologies previously unknown to the wolves made their way into Tribal arsenals. Despite wolves relying on their physical prowess to overwhelm their enemies, many have begun to adopt modern weaponry to get an edge in battle.

Wolves, historically, have scorned human weaponry, preferring to fight in the heat of the melee. Elders had lauded the ability to outmaneuver and overwhelm the enemy and watch the life drain from their body as the highest form of combat.

After the substantial loss of life in the great war to human weaponry and technology, many wolves became frustrated with the old ways and beseeched their elders to change their traditions to embrace a new age.

The elders, realizing their mistake, began to work with the Moonspeakers to incorporate new weapons into war training.

Among the items left behind at the site of Nogard's murder was a strange parchment filled with symbols and numbers. After its scent led the wolves nowhere, they passed it onto the Moonspeakers who took it upon themselves to decipher it.

The Moonspeakers studied the parchment for hours to no avail. It was unlike anything they had ever seen in human culture. They decided to share the code amongst the tribes to see if anyone was able to solve it.

Something strange took hold of Primordia, the clear blue sky morphed into a purple hue. Ancient lore had described such an event, sending further ripples of fear throughout Moonspeakers and the wolves.

The Moonspeakers gathered all the great tribal families together to share their findings. The wolves slowly edged forward as if in search for answers, while the Speaker fumbled his parchment with tremorous hands.

He uttered a single word - Dragon.

Howls filled the valley as news spread about the danger that lay ahead. Arguments erupted between wolves that sought to destroy the eggs and those that wished to keep them safe.

The endless howls roused the Dragon from its long slumber deep in the mountain cave. Suddenly, a deafeningly shrill noise was heard across Primordia, sending boulders tumbling down the mountain. The Dragon saw its nest, empty and cold.

The Brave Tribe, emboldened by their victory in the great war however, did not shy away from the battle that was to come, and began preparing training exercises. Unsure of how to fight a Dragon they turned to the Moonspeakers for guidance.

Defenses and fortifications were prepared across every Tribal land at a frantic pace. Bunkers were built into the ground to protect the wolves, who were helpless from aerial attacks.

High above the clouds the wolves watched, helpless, as a purple Dragon capable of blotting out the sun flew overhead in menacing circles. The wolves stared in awe, watching in horror, waiting to see what the Dragon would do.

Suddenly, the Dragon, spotting signs of life below, began plummeting to the ground in what looked like a death spiral. Its bellow sent shockwaves throughout Primordia. Without flinching wolves began scattering to safety.

The Dragon's scales glinted in the sunlight as its maw stretched open and a purple orb blazed within. It opened its enormous wings and began gliding just above the treetops, scorching everything in sight.

Through the ashen sky, the dying light of the full moon began to fade into oblivion. All that remained in the dark night was chaos. The fire spread through the forests like an avalanche, obliterating everything in sight.

A cacophonous symphony of wolves baying into the night marked the beginning of Kalanant's wrath across Primordia. Darkness blanketed the planet as the smoke from wildfires spread across the planet.

Wolves cowering in the bunker struggled to breathe as smoke seeped into every vent and crevice. The nightmare seemed eternal as the ground rumbled every time Kalanant unleashed her wrath in search of her eggs.

Knowing her eggs were immune to fire, Kalanant spread her destruction across the entire planet, hoping to extinguish all other life, especially any that could threaten her offspring.

Days had passed and it finally seemed the end was near. Primordia ceased trembling and the smoke began to dissipate, revealing the beautiful purple sky. A thick layer of ash had blanketed Primordia in an apocalyptic pall.

Kalanant, exhausted from searching for her eggs, retreated to her cave atop the mountain to recuperate.

The landscape before them was unrecognizable. Lush tribal lands had become wastelands devoid of life. The wolves stared numbly at the destruction that lay before them.

A council was convened to decide the best course of action to protect the Tribes from future attacks from the Dragon. Some argued for better defenses and others for an immediate counterattack.

It was decided that living in constant fear of a Dragon was unsustainable and that all fighting wolves should be assembled and go in search of Kalanant's lair.

Wolves piled into the armory and took everything in sight. Combat Claws, spine-mounted AR-15s, Eldritch Scrolls, and Arcane Ray Guns. Having never fought a Dragon before, many wolves were unsure of the best course of action.

A resounding consensus was reached that the best time to attack was while the dragon slept. Relying on their ghostlike hunting skills, Stealth Tribe offered to lead the journey into the heart of the mountain.

All was quiet in the brisk morning air as the wolves, armed once again for war, mustered into an unbroken chain at the path leading up the mountain. Standing amidst the destruction all around them many wolves shivered nervously in the cold, fearing for their life.

Slowly the march began, up the mountain path, skirting crags in search of Kalanant's lair. Wolves began to notice faded runes lining the path.

Almost a full day into the march a soft howl was heard - the entrance had finally been found. The Stealth Tribe scout stared into the dark abyss, too terrified to venture inside.

The vantage point atop the mountain allowed the wolves to see the true extent of destruction caused by Kalanant.

Deeper and deeper into the mountain the wolves ventured, guided only by the faint glow of bioluminescent fungi on the cave walls.

The air grew thick and hot as they approached the dragon's lair. The sound of deep, rhythmic breathing echoed through the tunnels.

They found Kalanant slumbering atop a mountain of gold and treasures stolen from human cities. Her scales shimmered even in the darkness, each one as large as a wolf's shield.

The wolves crept forward, weapons at the ready, hearts pounding in their chests.

The battle that ensued shook the very foundations of the mountain. Fire and fury clashed against tooth and claw.

Many wolves fell, but they fought with the desperation of a species fighting for survival.

The injured were carried to safety by their packmates, their howls of pain echoing through the caverns.

But the wolves did not retreat. They had come too far, sacrificed too much.

In the end, it was the Lycans who turned the tide. Their hybrid strength proved too much even for Kalanant.

With a final, earth-shaking roar, the great dragon fell.

As Kalanant's body lay still, something miraculous happened. From the pools of dragon blood, a small figure emerged.

It was Nogard. Reborn. Transformed by the dragon's essence.

The pup who had been sacrificed had returned, blessed with powers beyond comprehension. The prophecy had been fulfilled in ways none could have imagined.

A new era was dawning for the Moonrunners.