The Chronicles of Erdon
The Razing of Aschbourne
“Flammolier. That was the name given to the beast; for none escaped the roiling, blazing inferno that it spewed upon the town. And when it was done, nothing but ash and cinders and fire remained.” – Ardred, 11th Watcher of Argell
[img place holder: The Dragon’s Attack]
The town of Aschbourne, then known as Arcot, lies in Agrilar, between the southwestern banks of the Archlond Sea and the nearest flanks of the southern Dragonspine mountain range. By all accounts the creature struck from out of the rising sun without warning, or mercy; over a thousand souls perished that day, including many brave warriors, and many more women and children. From what little that could be pieced together in the aftermath, the dragon had been exacting various tributes over many generations, and the legend grew from there. The tributes were paid off secretly at first; the only clues the townsfolk had were the things that went missing every now and then. Then things started disappearing more frequently, and then people started disappearing too: young girls especially. At first the townsfolk relied on adventuring visitors to solve the mystery, but those eager knights that returned, found nothing.
The dragon then delivered the ultimatum that they should none of them ever leave, nor seek aid, nor allow any visitors to leave with knowledge of the doings there. And so life, such as it was, continued in that town, until the King of Agrilar became aware of the dragon’s extortion. The king mustered a great company of knights and bowmen, soldiers, priests, and even wizards; then he bade them march to Aschbourne and defend it from the monster. But ere they rose to march their last day to the town, the dragon appeared suddenly in the sky raining fire on the town from above; within half of an hour the beast had lighted the town’s keep and many homes. Not a full hour passed before the drake finished slaughtering the inhabitants; many as they tried to flee for safety. By the time the king’s company could assemble themselves and reach the town, naught of it remained but smouldering ruin.
The king’s men sought for days before they found any sign of the foul creature, and their first efforts to fell it were for naught. In fact it was not until the elven knight Eluneren Silverleaf and his sister Elestiel the White arrived from the far north of Archlond’s mountains that the serpent was finally smitten to ruin, “by a blade of gold and silver.” The creature called Flammolier was not, unfortunately, the last such to be discovered; and since that time many a knight has sought to prove his mettle by finding one of these greatest of monsters to slay. The brave efforts of such adventuresome warriors, aided by sages and seers across the lands, has curtailed the presence of these dragons if not subdued it altogether. The town was rebuilt not too long after the slaying of the great dragon, and ever since that time has had a law against wearing or wielding anything of any red hue (it is believed that the color red attracts or even summons these terrible red monsters). Throughout the year the townspeople remember the story with festivities and rituals and artisanship, and even their food.