The Lost Lore

Dragons in Velasia are not the mindless creatures of human legend. They are fully sentient beings with their own culture, language, and complex magical affinity. Their society is structured around bloodlines and houses, with a hierarchy that has endured since the dawn of time.

All dragons carry an innate connection to magic, a deep well of power that manifests differently in each individual. But this power comes with a cost. A dragon who overextends their magic in their true form risks something far worse than exhaustion. The beast within is always present, always hungry, and the line between the self and the instinct is not always as firm as they would like to believe.

This is why dragons shift. Taking humanoid form allows them to recover, to recharge their reserves and reassert the rational mind over the predatory instinct. Many call it a weakness, rebuking the vanished gods for this "curse" placed upon them. But for most, it is purely survival. Those who forget this, or choose to ignore it, do not tend to survive long enough to be remembered.

However, a mistake many have made is that dragons are helpless in their humanoid state. Quite the contrary, they are as deadly with a blade as they are with tooth and claw. And the innate magical connection they all possess remains, giving them access to a vast array of magics, some of which are ancient, terrifying, and a select predetermined few, forbidden even to the dragons themselves.

The origin of the Order of Scales, just like Velasia's history, is cloudy at best. If you asked the Order, they would attribute it to Garn Dragonblood, the original knight who built the Order on a single remarkable discovery: that the blood of a dragon, consumed by select humans, could grant extraordinary abilities. Speed beyond human limits. Strength that should not be possible. A lifespan that stretched far past the natural span of human limitations.

In rare cases, it grants something more: abilities that blur the line between man and something else entirely, giving birth to the only humans seemingly possessing a direct connection to magic. These rare recipients are revered as the greatest of their kind.

The Order's purpose has always been to stand as a bulwark between human lands and the threat from beyond the Peaks. But as the elder dragons withdraw from the world and the lesser threats became manageable, the Order found itself defending less and questioning more. What are they protecting? What are they owed? And when the source of their power is all but dried up, what does it mean to be a member of an Order built on a stolen power that no longer flows?

Magic in Velasia exists as a fundamental property of the world itself, present in the air, in the earth, in the ancient bones of the Peaks. Dragons access it as naturally as breathing. Humans cannot, at least not directly. But humanity has never accepted "cannot" as a final answer.

Over the centuries, human scholars and artificers developed mechanisms for capturing, storing, and directing magical forces. These devices range from simple tools to complex constructions capable of impressive feats, such as the great Walls dividing the Vale and keeping out unwanted guests. Their ingenuity has haphazardly changed the balance of power between dragons and humans more than any single war ever did.

But the forbidden arts are something else. Older than any current practitioner. Darker than any sanctioned school of thought. The dragons know of them, and it is one of the few things they universally refuse to discuss openly. What is known is this: there are magics in Velasia that the world was not meant to accommodate. Yet whispers beckon, and even now their secrets are not as close held as once believed.

The First Age is defined, above all else, by its absence. Records are fragmentary, deliberately obscured, or simply gone. A great deal is told of the original creators of Velasia, those ancient beings known only as the Architects. Said to have created the world and all that dwelled within, only to vanish and leave the races to fend for themselves, gently begs the question of why.

The Lost Tomes are believed to be artifacts of this period, and may yet answer this question. Believed twelve in total, or so the fragments suggest. Not all have been found. Those that have been recovered are dense with information that doesn't always make sense in the context of what is currently known about Velasia's history, and they are chock full of warnings about a future full of subliminal obscurities.

Translation continues. Meaning is contested. And the deeper the scholars go, the more they find themselves asking not just what happened in the First Age, but what it has to do with what is happening now. And, more importantly, what this 'Awakening' referred to over and over again truly is.