For aeons, dragons ruled the world from on high. They were masters of all they surveyed, favourite children of the Dark Gods and inheritors of creation. No other mortal being was more complete in their power or their intellect, in their spirituality or their mysticism, in life… Or in love.

But all good things come to an end.

The Age of Dragons came to an end in a flash of blinding Light. The Dark Gods retreated, abandoning their children in the defeat. The Dragon Kings of old were slain, slaughtered like beasts and slandered by their mammalian usurpers. Their subjects were driven from their rightful lands, forced to cower in the dark until their forgot what it was to be truly great. They forgot pride, courage, curiosity, ambition. They forgot how to live, and how to love.

You will remind them.

Your name… Well, your True Name is your own, not readily shared with others. Across the Underdark, among the dark elves and dwarves, bugbears and ghouls, among kobolds and aberrant entities beyond the pale, you are called King Theral—Knight Ascendant of the Feathered Serpent, Dark Prophet of the Coming Age, Inheritor of Big Red, Copper Dragon King of Bloodrise.

“Fatheaded Degenerate,” your great love calls you. “Oh One of Overinflated Ego.”

You can’t bring yourself to hold it against her, when her tail is coiled around you and her head is resting against your chest.