Legend: Legacy of the Dragons Forum

Miriam looked around the sleepy Village of Zviglod - The place she now called home.
Her amber eyes were sad. But not because of pain or loss. She was sad, because these people did not deserve this.

Eternal War. The gods had cursed this world and these people had been dragged unknowingly into it. Even the children would call the humans pink-skins. Such was the hatred that had moored their sense onto the shores of calamity.

Did anyone deserve the bloodshed? For what it was worth though, the human raiders would leave the civilian populace alone. Only attacking Magmar warriors and mages. Locked into the eternal life and rebirth, and buoyed by the astoundingly stupid dragons of both races, each side hunted mercileslly for tokens of war.

MIriam, as an outsider, was overcome with grief for this bloodshed. She had seen the recluse Avelius only last night - He merely wanted to analyse her scales.
She just thought he wanted ato see her out of her clothes. Scientists need lechery as well, do they not?

No matter - Miriam thought. She continued weaving the strands of grass into hats. Her drake magic weaving protections into the items. The village folk won't even know. Just having the hats in their homes was enough, even if they won't wear it.

"Where is he?", Miriam mused aloud. He should have been here by now. She had met the young man SilentWater, back when he was a child. As is a Dragon's whim, she could take any form she wished. Even then, she appeared as a grown up woman. Her pride wouldn't let her take a childish form, even if her whimsy so desired. But the child was curious.

He wanted to learn, and boy did he have a mouth on him, she reminisced. Their friendship had grown over the years. And while she had settled into Zviglod village, Silent roamed around the world trying to become stronger.

She frowned upon this world's workings, and didn't want her friend to be pulled into the machinations of god. But she couldn't help that. He will do as he will do.

She instead, would help everyone around her. Her amber eyes, her golden scales, her traditional magmar attire. It was all a sham. A dragon doesn't care about clothes.

but no one needed to know. Miriam will work in the shadows. And she will not be found.

You wanna know why I am still here? Jaegermeister laughs dismissively and takes a long sip from his tankard. Because I have to. It's as simple as that.


Givens gives him a curious look, as he tops up his guest. The tavern is almost empty – besides a few inebriated sailors playing poker in the corner, the two are on their own. You have to? Givens asks.
Jaegermeister sighs and for a moment his glazed eyes lose their emptiness. For just a second you can see live, sorrow and maybe even a tiny twinkle. Let me tell you about a promise I made ...


You know me as a loner, 'the drunk', your best customer, probably. As you can imagine that wasn't always what I'd go by. When I was born, my parents called me Jacob. We lived in the better part of the Twilight Meadows and life was good – but it wasn't complete until I met Mayson.


He was a year younger than me when he moved to my area, but it didn't show. He had watery blue eyes, freckles and was quite scrawny, but he'd have a gaze that would challenge everyone. He came at a time when I started to help out in my family's jeweller business. 'He could become my 'stone mayson' when I take over', we would joke, although, deep inside we always knew that's not what we're destined to be.


Call it rebellion, disobedience or whatever, but the next summer everything changed. We spent the long days at the shore, stealing fish, getting into the pirates' rum, hunting down Zigreds and wreaking havoc. For a while, we were above the law. Unteachable. Untouchable. We would come and go as we pleased. Sneak on boats to the other side and piss off humans. In our world, we weren't Jacob and Mayson, we were Jaegermeister and Mayhem. The barrels with gunpowder made for the best war paint and so, disguised by black powder and youthful recklessness, we played our own little game. It's funny how in our mind we were at war with everyone and yet 'war' was a concept so utterly unknown to us.


But then again, did anyone know about it? When the humans attacked, it came as a surprise to everyone. Even for the two of us, who frequented their lands as if they were our own yard.
The day the real war started, we were at the shore and among the first to feel the full impact of its devastating force. That day I lost my best friend. And I may have changed ... I may have drowned a lot of memories in booze, but that day is as vividly etched into my mind as if it was yesterday. The last thing Mayhem said should become the words I live by. 'I wish it could be like this forever.' Foolish as I was I challenged fate. 'Who said it can't?', I said to my old friend.


That day something inside me died and can never be mended, but I made damn well sure Mayhem lives on forever. I spread his ashes, where we spent our best days: at OUR shore. I put them in the gunpowder that is lying around and ready to use. I poured them into every whiskey barrel I could lay hands on. And I let the sea breeze take them to the other side. Our backyard. So every time someone passes out in your chair, I can see my friend laughing. When I hear gunshots, I know he's not far. Even when I get sand in my eyes from the fresh sea breeze, I think of him. When I am at the shore, Mayhem is never far away. That's why I am still here. That's why you see me here so often.


You and everyone else here will never know Mayhem the way I did ... but you can be sure he is around – wreaking havoc, creating chaos and having laugh. Just like the old days.