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Of Mountain Chains And Dragon's Claims

Magivore

No Rest For The Wicked
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To those who tend to keep up with the city's history of rumours and unwanted papers all over boards, they would recognize this paper to be similar to that of one posted months ago. Just as before, it came from presses hot and dripping as some were even smudged from how fast this document was haphazardly spread. The documents that were readable landed within primarily Old Town, the many sewer entrances, and sometimes tucked within piles of trash where it didn't belong with the intention of being discovered in New Town and the Imperial Isle. Unlike before, its courier was more mysterious: a tall creature, donning inky black robes and taking with them a sense of hopelessness brought forth these essays. To those unable to read, they too heard through whispers and summaries that eventually tied it all together.

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Lecture 17, manuscript 1, recorded on the 6th of August, 308 AC

"Today I bring forth another lecture, those of the Underneath, and this is as pressing as the last. This time, I shall be bringing forth citations and quotations from a paper you have read before. I suggest you read this lecture in conjunction with the reference so that you may better understand my claims. You are catching all I say now, yes? You are? And this included? Include that last part too, please. Yes, and this one. Now!

"Citing back to recent events, the Capital of Calemberg was recently opened up by a siege of lightning and Altalar. To some of you, this must be a- pardon the pun- shocker, for they proclaimed to have built a wall that absolutely none of us can remember producing. As a matter of fact, the Prince Marshal, a dragon with a tongue of static and hide as dark as Rikkira's, is noted as being powerful enough as to rip down the wall into a set of impassable mountains that are well-known today as Hadrian's Mountains, and no one else could have that potential. It was Ailor hands that forged its walls, and it was Dragon's breath that sundered them to sharp stone.

"But something peculiar has occurred. As of late, the Calembergers swear they do not remember the Altalar's involvement at all. On top of that, the Altalar took their revenge in a form of terroristic act by ripping down the walls of Hadrian's Mountains to the point that an army can march straight into the capital of Typhonus territory if they so pleased. But why, exactly, would the supposed 'knife-ears' use magic in territory that is likely next to house the Wardens of Purity, and better yet, why would they rip down a mountain chain over a lie that makes no sense when they are a disgustingly tiny minority in a country conquered by Ailor?

"The answer is simple: they know a truth the Ailor do not. They know well they will be squashed, but this is because they desire to be known for the truth. As per one of the latest documents posted by Lord Chancellor Drachenburg, "Further paperwork proves that the Dread Dragon then manipulated the memories of the Calembergers living at the time, in what one can assume is a similar method the Dragon enacted recently with her return in 305 AC, wiping her own involvement in the conspiracy from the records, disappearing into myth. . ." is what it reads. This, then, is an act that Dragons have proven to historically perform: mass acts of mental manipulation.

"Delving further into history, one that does not need citation but instead the memory of its veterans, the Dread Dragon took control of the Archbloods, once Phantasma, on the field of battle with one shrill cry. In seconds, your own people turned upon the peasants and slaughtered those they would call brother and sister. This is a sign, then, that the dragon's power to control thought and thinking does not extend to mere dragon-infested as I had previously predicted. Instead, it can be called upon all, and all are powerless to that sense of suggestion.

"Or so they think. The Altalar are notorious for remembering all things after centuries of life, and this is because we possess the capability to tell the difference between an altered memory and a true one. To discover the truth, we must simply uproot the lies, as we have always done within our past. And here I provide on this day a sign of lies in the hopes you shall find the truth:

"The Prince Marshal tore down Hadrian's Mountains with his electric breath in the hopes to promote peace, and popularly so that gained him much influence. Yet mysteriously, Altalar who are severely outnumbered in territory they do not belong are brave enough to come forward, swear they created the mountains much to the chagrin of those who insist otherwise, and then blow holes into the mountains using the same electrical spells as the dragon's breath in order to show that they have the ability to level it if they so choose... yet no one seems to recall that anyone other than the Dragon, capable of manipulating memory and known to have done so in Calemberg once before, tore down the wall to make the mountains we know today.

"And so I propose to you one final set of questions: are these lone Altalar as strong as your Dragon and claim they did it all simply for some clout they will not receive? Or did your Dragon lie about how strong and benevolent they truly are?

"Who is to say the Imperial Dragon is one of your leaders and not your master?"

Letter concluded, conclusion reached on the 8th of August, 308 AC

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"Because I do not think myself his slave, the Imperial Marshal and Prince Soverign know the culture of Gallovia we bend to no one who doesn't earn it. Some may call such a thing treason but if the Imperial Dragon is as callous as he came off in that Court Room. Gods help us if the day comes we have to fight them before we are enslaved by them. I am no Jacobin but I shall not put my faith in a Being which Lords itself over the world playing games with our minds." The Url says cradling his sleeping baby daughter is his arms. As he sat on the soft Wolf Pelt rug turn his eyes to the bed of his five year old as he thought over the implications of these Dragons.
 
One may perhaps note the lack of dissent from a particular scholar who had many months before written out a long declaration about fear-mongering and alarmism surrounding the imperial dragon and its abilities. A change of heart perhaps as the woman simply passed the notice by not reading over its contents, well, at least not publicly. Many events had occurred in the past year.​
 
Tiray was nestled away in the comfort of her home, notice in hand. She'd read it at least half a dozen times, and still her resistance to believe what was scratched upon paper remained. A part of her wished she'd stop caring so much about faith, while another part of her insistently fled from her thoughts and questions, demanding absolute obedience to the dragons. In spite of recent revelations about how little she actually had to care about the dragon-bloods she'd once deemed gods to continue evading the fall, she still found herself obsessed, dancing on a thin, fragile line. If she misstepped, it could all come tumbling down around her; Snow white would boil, burn and darken to a jet black. And yet, despite the fear and anger that lingered within her, ever-threatening to boil over the edge one day, she still found herself with this very notice in hand, not-so-subtly trying to get the words to sink in and leave a lasting impression. Was she simply immune to what one would call the manipulation and lies of an infamous overlord, or was she already too gaslighted by so-called gods to believe that they were anything but good? She didn't know. She feared she'd never know.

By sundown, she'd whittled herself down to a weeping mess of uncertainty, and had inevitably burned the notice, fearing the worst would happen if she read it another dozen times. This baggage would be left to be unpacked another day.