I knew of the terrible monster described in the scroll, though I had placed the creature into the realms of myth and madness.

I penned a missive and sent out a junior scribe to the nearby fortress of Light. If such a beast would exist outside of a madman’s words, an encounter would make a fitting test for an initiate.

-From the records of Scribe Antius

 

“The dragon’s roar echoed through the twisted passages in front of me. The rusted shield I had found earlier would protect me from its flame both magical and mundane, and my skill with the blade had only grown since the hours, days or weeks I had already spent in this realm of chaos. It felt like entering these caverns had been akin to a strange birth, a perverted rebirth of the soul. I belonged to this place as certain as it belonged to me. At times, it felt like a friend, playfully placing obstacles in my way for me to grow through its challenge.

Other times, it reminded me that friendship was merely a knife at your throat, waiting for me to relax my guard.

As I approached the room I heard the challenging roar of a dragon. When I turned around the corner, I learned it was not a challenge but anguish. With growing horror, I saw a giant fist close around the adult dragon’s elongated neck, crushing it without effort or mercy. The dragon’s dying flame illuminated the room all too briefly, but enough to freeze my blood. My people had myths about this creature, and as I fled from this area, its name echoed through my terrified brain.

Moloch.”