Deep We Go
A young dragon, born only a thousand years ago in the early days of New Kingdoms. His egg was lain by his unknown mother, an ancient wyrm of legend, in the Appelian mountains; a famous and archaic mountain poem, still sung by children in that region, states “and all the little valleys shook/and the aeyrman sneezed at the snow/and so he tried to warm his nook/but the ice around him did blow.” The parallels to Szatharrax, who named himself after another, more ancient dragon, now long-gone, are clear.
Little is known of Szatharrax’s travels in his formative years; he could be responsible for a thousand dragon sightings, a thousand burnings, a thousand Tiamat cults and a thousand curses. He first enters popular lore one hundred years ago, when he arrived in the Nentir Plain, wounded and plainly seen to burn “with a cosmic fire”, as one sky-watcher reported it, sailing over Fallcrest.
As it is now known, he found his way beneath Baffin Point into the endless caverns of that earth, and there came to eject his treasures (dragons swallow their hoards to transport them) into the icy hole he made for himself; he believed gold, in his youthful foolishness, was the most worthy of dragon treasures, and surrounded himself with it.
In the caverns above him, after years of slumber and healing, he heard scratchings and shoutings. Weak creatures, quarter-dragon, unworthy of him. He summoned all his strength to call across the winds for those more worthy, utilising the faint cognitive powers of that ugly runt-race, and an ugly but tough group of kobolds found him, slaughtering the weaklings in their place. In return for slivers of his power, the quarter-dragons brought him treasures, crowns, coins and swords, and mysterious objects that he had scarce dreamed of. His original hoard, all built on one precious object that he had cradled since his birth, grew and grew.
Few outside the Merchant’s Consortium knew of Szatharrax’s existence or his death; the murder of such a noble creature did not impact on these sneering atheists who wished only to queel that which they did not understand. They did not worship dragons as their ancestors had. Szatharrax died barely a child, his hoard plundered, his prophecy fulfilled, a prophecy that only dragons know of, his most precious gift stolen.