Session 3:2 - NPC

The Story of the Shrine

A late hatchling, her egg was tossed from the nest by her siblings because they wanted more room to play. As the egg plummeted over the side of the cliff where the nest was built it hatched and Praxmegthof was born with its wings spread, flying above a forest of yew trees.

She left the nest and found a human village in the forest. She demanded that the soft-skinned creatures worship her, even though she was only the size of a small cat. The humans chased her from the village, and the angry dragon set out to destroy them. She stalked through their farmlands late at night, breathing frost upon the crops and withering them. She attacked sheep and cattle, eating some but leaving most to rot. Villagers began to starve, and when they would pack up to leave the village to find food elsewhere Praxmegthof would jump down from the trees and attack them. It took years, but eventually the small dragon managed to kill everyone in the village. She collected all of the valuables, and began building herself a lair.

Then the Kingdom Wars began, the entire continent gripped by war as the races of the soft-skin fought one another for dominance. Praxmegthof watched armies collide over land and law and taxes, and though she felt that the creatures were inferior to her in every way she had a grudging respect for the power of numbers. They were like a virus – minuscule, insignificant, but capable of drowning the world.

Praxmegthof used magic to disguise herself as an elf maiden, with long silver hair and deep purple eyes. Her spells allowed her admittance into the royal court of a lesser king where she worked as a seer and tactician – guiding vast armies against neighboring kingdoms. All the while, she whispered lies and deceit into the king’s ear, causing him to grow suspicious of his own nobles and fearful of his own kingdom. At her behest, the king held a banquet for all of his aristocrats, and he poisoned their food and watched them all die at his table. Then his throat was cut by the purple-eyed elf, and Praxmegthof claimed the kingdom’s riches for herself.

She did this time and time again, amassing gold and jewels and bringing them back to her lair in the forest of yew trees. Until one trip when bringing in riches she found that her gold horde had been stolen. She tracked the gold to a kingdom of dwarves, and disguised as an elf attempted to worm her way into the royal court so that she could topple the kingdom like the many others. However, the dwarves already had a wizard who immediatly spotted her disguise. In front of the king, the elf transformed into a dragon and demanded the return of her gold.

The dwarf king was not intimidated by the display, but offered Praxmegthof a tour of his castle so he could show her what he had done with the horde. The gold had been melted down and used to decorate the walls of the castle the dwarves had carved into the mountain size. The gems had been fitted into the gold, used in chandeliers and great works of art. The royal chambers had walls that were completely covered in gold and silver and gems, light from torches sparkled and glittered off of every corner.

And the dwarf gave the entire castle to Praxmegthof, claiming that the horde had not been stolen – they dwarves had simply not known it was owned. Praxmegthof accepted the gift, and formed an alliance with the dwarves.

In the decades to follow, Praxmegthof was a dragon by day, breathing frost upon kingdoms in advance of a dwarven army that marched across the land, and by night was an elven woman, the delight of the dwarven king. As the dwarves conquered kingdom after kingdom, their riches where split between the king and his queen, and eventually everything between the Cloudtouch Mountains and the Crimshaw mountains was the domain of the Ironmane Clan. They founded their kingdom capital in the west, and Praxmegthof returned to the castle that had been constructed for her in the east.

She sleeps upon a horde of gold, the riches of her battles that stretched across the continent, inside the glittered golden halls of a castle built by her husband. At her feet are the skulls of 6 white dragons, the siblings that had so readily pushed her egg out of the nest for nothing more than to have a little extra room, slain by the army of dwarves to appease the whims of their ally who had been so fundamental to the establishment of their new kingdom.


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