AoA.Lore Chosen of Bahamut
As you catch your breath in the wake of battle, the rippling radiant energy emanating from your blade and shield surges to a blinding brightness before your vision is lost in the light.
When you open your eyes once more, you realize you stand no longer in the Underdark palace, but instead in the courtyard of a wondrous, glittering fortress. Along each flawlessly hewn platinum wall, massive windows made from countless gemstones set in frames of gold let in streams of warm, golden light.
Approaching the windows, you discover the fortress courtyard rests on an idyllic green hill overlooking a shimmering, gentle river shaded by an ancient tree with branches extending far into the clear blue sky. Below, a pair of long, thin boats skip along the water like dragonflies racing across the surface. The river flows away from an impossibly towering range of snow laden mountains. At the foot of the mountains rests a golden city, gleaming in the early light of morning. Suddenly, your heart is drawn to this place, simultaneously filled with peace and yearning.
Untold moments pass as you contentedly gaze upon this pristine and utterly perfect visage. Then, a sudden gust swirls around you, and your attention shifts towards the rolling green hills opposite the river from you. Before you, the sheer magnitude of the platinum dragon's form dwarfs the glittering fortress you stand before in both size and radiance. The dawn light reflects off of his immaculate scales like gems refracting light in countless directions. Bahamut looks upon you with a dignified gaze, warm and peaceful, resolved and full of pride.
You are known to me, Parathrax. Son of Parathraaj, Son of Voronelle, Bearer of Righteousness, Wielder of Ilreth and Ulrath, Avenger of Avraathe. I know you care not for these titles. Your first reaction is to shy away from the path destiny places before you. Not born out of the fear which would stifle so many, but because you do not seek power for power's own sake. You question your role in the unfolding of these events as a leader and champion of my people. Not out of the doubt which would burden others, but because you hold the standard against which you measure yourself ever out of reach, relentlessly pursuing greatness to serve and protect those in your stead. It is both your strength of self and the constant questioning of your own position which makes you worthy. It is the very determination and discomfort which define you as a true, noble warrior befitting my name. You have returned to Avraathe and saved the city from immeasurable loss. You have defended her walls from enemies beyond and her people from insidious intent within. You have avenged the betrayal against my people, casting a bright light on the darkness spreading in secret. And throughout your journey, you spoken truth to power and held mercy and justice in even hands. In your dreams, you have witnessed the gathering storms. A time is coming when the sky will grow dark with deceit and flood the world in falsehood. You must be the unwavering radiant light in the darkest hours, standing fast when all else might wash away in the downpour of despair. But you will not do this alone. To aid you in your journey, I bestow upon you my blessing and call you my Chosen. My presence shall flow through you, my power manifest in your person. Your will strike fear into the hearts of your enemies, the roar of your draconic ancestry ringing out across the battlefield. You will shine as a beacon, blinding those who stand opposed. On platinum wings you will soar through the skies, raining down holy judgement on your enemies. And in your presence, foes will tremble at your thunderous approach. You are known to me, Parathrax. Son of Parathraaj, Son of Voronelle, Bearer of Righteousness, Wielder of Ilreth and Ulrath, Avenger of Avraathe, Chosen of Bahamut. Go forth and make my righteous fury known to our enemies.
As Bahamut's final words linger in the sweet, summer air, the radiant light reflecting off his scales seers your vision until all goes white once more. As your eyes adjust once more, you find yourself returned to the Underdark, surrounded by fallen enemies, your brother and dear friend Endriel at your side.
You are known to me, Parathrax. Son of Parathraaj, Son of Voronelle, Bearer of Righteousness, Wielder of Ilreth and Ulrath, Avenger of Avraathe. I know you care not for these titles. Your first reaction is to shy away from the path destiny places before you. Not born out of the fear which would stifle so many, but because you do not seek power for power's own sake. You question your role in the unfolding of these events as a leader and champion of my people. Not out of the doubt which would burden others, but because you hold the standard against which you measure yourself ever out of reach, relentlessly pursuing greatness to serve and protect those in your stead. It is both your strength of self and the constant questioning of your own position which makes you worthy. It is the very determination and discomfort which define you as a true, noble warrior befitting my name. You have returned to Avraathe and saved the city from immeasurable loss. You have defended her walls from enemies beyond and her people from insidious intent within. You have avenged the betrayal against my people, casting a bright light on the darkness spreading in secret. And throughout your journey, you spoken truth to power and held mercy and justice in even hands. In your dreams, you have witnessed the gathering storms. A time is coming when the sky will grow dark with deceit and flood the world in falsehood. You must be the unwavering radiant light in the darkest hours, standing fast when all else might wash away in the downpour of despair. But you will not do this alone. To aid you in your journey, I bestow upon you my blessing and call you my Chosen. My presence shall flow through you, my power manifest in your person. Your will strike fear into the hearts of your enemies, the roar of your draconic ancestry ringing out across the battlefield. You will shine as a beacon, blinding those who stand opposed. On platinum wings you will soar through the skies, raining down holy judgement on your enemies. And in your presence, foes will tremble at your thunderous approach. You are known to me, Parathrax. Son of Parathraaj, Son of Voronelle, Bearer of Righteousness, Wielder of Ilreth and Ulrath, Avenger of Avraathe, Chosen of Bahamut. Go forth and make my righteous fury known to our enemies.
As Bahamut's final words linger in the sweet, summer air, the radiant light reflecting off his scales seers your vision until all goes white once more. As your eyes adjust once more, you find yourself returned to the Underdark, surrounded by fallen enemies, your brother and dear friend Endriel at your side.
Comments