Ragnos

A thousand years imprisoned within the Void, a soulless, damnable place overcome with the mournful cries of those who survived the death of their world and transformed to soulless beast… a punishment worse than death, but one that Ragnos survived for the second time. One that was inflicted upon him by the woman he thought he loved. Seylune. The Moonlit One, a goddess he attempted to force affection from unsuccessfully, only to lose her forever. No matter.

Ragnos allowed himself a few weeks to recover within his palace at the heart of the Darklands before he decided to venture into society. The world had surely changed much in his millennia of torment! With that in mind, Ragnos shifted out of his demi-dragon form to conceal his draconic features: no longer did he have his monstrous wings, his thick horns, or his obsidian-black scales. He looked to the world like one of the lowly mortals he was destined to rule over— so long as he avoided any gods who would recognize his face, no one would be the wiser.

The Darklands was a peninsula bordering on the kingdom of Lunaris, so naturally the kingdom of the moon was Ragnos’ first destination. The Fell Dragon used a simple Translocation spell to send himself to the border of the Darklands and for the first time since the Great War, he felt the warmth of morning light on his skin. But this was no time for meager sentiment! With the poise of a king, Ragnos walked along an overgrown path towards civilization until he came upon a merchant caravan who gave him a ride to the village of Soúroupo where he observed how the once-tiny hamlet of weavers had boomed into a flourishing hub of silks and textiles.

And then he saw them.

“Yggdra’s roots…” Ragnos muttered to himself, barely stopping himself from growling at the sight of them. Only one word played in his mind as he considered how to approach them: mine.

Not wanting to waste any precious time, Ragnos approached them casually, combing his ebony hair back with a hand before setting the other on their shoulder.

“Forgive me,” his low voice rumbled in false sweetness. “I am but a lowly traveler and I find myself in need of a guide.”