They fought for untold ages, but always their battles were inconclusive. Bahamut and Tiamat used their greatest champions as vessels for their power, but even so neither could gain the advantage. Finally all dragons gathered together for one great conflict—the battle which those men who know of it call in their ignorance the War of Falling Dragons. Terrible that battle was, so terrible that it tore at the very fabric of Draezoln. At this moment the one called Jivenesh came, and at his coming the world would have been destroyed, had not Naishia, Bahamut, and even Tiamat joined together to bind him and cast him down.
Even so, the battle and its coming had left a scar—what men now call the Madlands—and only shattered remnants of dragonkind, the smallest and weakest who had been at the furthest edges of the battle, still lived. But even these were greater than all that live today, save for the few who still live from that time (Garkhen’s eyes widened slightly at this. He had not heard that any who saw the War of Dragon’s Falling still lived.). For in the ruins, the three gods spoke. Naishia plead that the world be left to grow without more disastrous wars, but that rather the two dragon gods would simply seek to influence the world in secret to bend to their will. Again, they agreed, though Tiamat only reluctantly, and ever have her followers sought opportunity to again shed the blood of Bahamut’s children.
Without the direct touch of their gods, dragons no longer grew to the great heights of power they once had, and what was more, they were soon no longer alone. For the battle had attracted others—the gods of the smaller races, who besought Naishia leave to create their children on her world. That she did not admit the part of Bahamut and Tiamat in the creation of Draezoln shows the secret pride in her heart. When Tiamat learned of this, her rage was terrible, but Bahamut opposed her, and so the lesser races came to be.
In silent remembrance of our war, we did not watch as the lesser races spread throughout Draezoln. But now it is theirs more than ours, and so our war and our pride may be our ruin. Yet ever is our duty the same—to oppose Tiamat, to see that life in whatever form flourishes and lives without fear of fire and death. In so doing we will preserve both the lesser races and ourselves, for of a truth Bahamut teaches that all life is connected, and all are reduced by unnecessary suffering.
Sorry for the late post. Again. Apparently I only remember this on Monday when I go to bed.
Anyway, this is the end of the summarized translation of the dragon’s hymn. One thing I’m not sure has come up before is how young the human-like races of Draezoln are–they’ve only been around a couple thousand years at this point. There’s a bit of a hint at that in this story, but that isn’t something I”m keeping secret.