A Tale of Dragons

Epilogue
There once was a land, lost to human memory now, that housed the greatest of mages, of heroes and legends. It was, as in the stories that have some connection to it, in constant turmoil, wars waging every decade or so. But there came a time, not long before the great Circle of Arcanes decided to seal their land from the world, that the greatest war that land had ever known came to be. It started with a simple accident, a dragon, not long out of its egg, breathing its soul-fire for the first time in a village on the southern tip of the Sharpclaw peninsula. This was in one of the few times that dragons and humans had coexisted within cities and towns. That was to be no more.
That tiny spurt of soul-fire, no more than a sneeze, burned the entire village to the ground. Soon, stories of a dragon slaughtering an entire village spread, false, but propagated by the numerous humans who distrusted dragons, and other races, simply because of rumors passed down from when the racial wars had been in full swing. It did not end there.
Soon enough, a party of humans took one of the dragon's mountain hatcheries, killing the four dragons there with magic and steel tipped crossbows, before smashing the dozens of eggs inside. The dragons who had found the bodies, and the smashed eggs retaliated of course, burning down the village the humans had come from. But that only served to enflame tensions, and soon enough one of the greatest examples of the dozens of races merging was in flames, humans and their allies waging war against the outnumbered dragons.
The dragons, and their few allies, had no choice but to flee north, into the greatest mountain range known to man, those that dwarfed Everest before it was even a hill, and simply kept growing, despite any science that was applied to it, while it was still known to man. They were the ancestral home of the dragons, and the first mountains the dwarves had hollowed out, and the nomadic wood elves first city sat on the side of one of the greatest of these mountains, a long dead volcano, Mount Viisindra.
    Of course, the dragons didn't intend to simply hide, they would hold their homeland, but there were few of them left. their hatcheries in the south destroyed, and only a half dozen in the north defended long enough to save the eggs. The dragons mustered their scattered allies, the wood elves from the northern forests, the dwarves from their caves, and the human empire of Viisindiav, from the outlying mountains. The first battle of the war was fought outside of the Vissindrian shadow-capitol of Cazzint, the encroaching army from the kingdom of Cape Gornheld driven off. But that was just the beginning.
Soon enough, the humans, drows, high elfs, grey dwarves and southern orcs marched together on the mountains. The elves decided they would make a stand, and attempt to fight. The Dwarves and dragons stood with them, but the humans wisely held their forces on the enemy's flank, unknown to either army. The battle for the pass of Newerhal lasted for seven grueling days, of attacks and counterattacks, retreats and advances, charges and routes. But even with a surprise attack from the human army, the dragons and their allies could not win, outnumbered nearly a hundred to one. Soon, they were driven back, further and further, until the only surviving member of human royalty surrendered, leaving the dragons without the largest portion of their army. And then the wood elf city of Winterhold burned, and they vanished as well as they could, and then the remnants of the dwarven army were slaughtered with most of their race in their great mountain city of Guzrerrgebba. The dragons had been left, save for a few brave fighters who continued the fight. They realized that there would be no turning point, no heroic battle to win this war. If they continued, they would all die. There would be no one to stand testimony to the battles of this war, save for their enemies. So they fled, into the deep mountains of their homeland. But the war did not end there.
    The guerrilla war waged on, and on. Sudden attack, slaughtered convoys, burned camps. This was the true war. And it had just begun.
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