Territory

Ahriman’s territory on Arthos includes the entirety of the Dragonclaw Islands set in the north-by-northeastern section of Maud’madir. It terminates in the north along the border of Zsiera’s territory in Jormunger, and it ends in the south just before reaching the northern edge of Rathenoch’s northern borders. In the east, it stretches across the ocean before ending just before the sands of Isana’s islands, and in the west, it extends a few leagues beyond the shores of western Mjoll.

Although he has dominion over a significant portion of open water, when Ahriman is on the Material Plane he rarely leaves the sparsely populated Dragonclaw Islands themselves. The influence of Ahriman’s presence upon the elements makes daily life a challenge for even the most hardened survivors, and even those that have mastered its dangers must always be on the watch for slave ships captained by the Crissen’Thalan, for the Ice Elves believe that Dragonclaw natives make excellent slaves if they can be broken thoroughly. Those that call these islands home are mostly a mix of various tribalistic cultures, with Am’Rath, Orcs, Ogres, and Olagot’Thalan being amongst the more numerous populations. A smattering of other races can be found in their ranks as well, mostly as a result of shipwrecks or slaves that have managed to escape their brutal Ice Elven captors. Over time these peoples have managed to adapt to the ever-changing ways of their chaotic home, and have learned how to harvest and trade unique resources that do not exist anywhere else on Arthos. Most follow Ahriman’s ways, if only for purely practical reasons if nothing else, and those who feel called to another higher power are generally encouraged to leave once they come of age.

Ahriman makes his lair upon the Material Plane at the centre of the largest of the islands, although an unfamiliar observer would still likely need to be told that this archipelago is indeed still on the material plane. Seemingly, the Hydra’s raw elemental power cannot be contained, at least, not completely. Small rifts that lead into the Elemental Planes spontaneously open and close in his immediate vicinity, and his power causes the elements to react and combine into otherwise unforeseen or impossible combinations. Overly curious mages that have travelled to witness what the locals call the “Elemental Chaos” have reported such unbelievable sights such as lakes of liquid stone that one could drown in, and thunderbolts of frozen flame that slam down from solid clouds of ice that hang impossibly in the sky. It is said that Ahriman can shield visitors from these dangers, should he wish to. Woe to those that come uninvited, for it is unlikely that even their lifeless body would survive these impossible storms without the protection of The Primordial.

While many of the Firstborn have enclaves on other planes of existence, none are quite so large or impressive as Ahriman’s holdings on each of the four Elemental Planes. His domain on the Material Plane seems downright pitiful when it is compared to the size and majesty of his demesnes amongst the Elementals. On the Plane of Earth, thousands of pliant Earth Elementals raise statues carved from shining crystals in his name, while on the Plane of Fire, thousands of fiercely loyal warriors of flame compete for the right of serving in his legions. His treasures are kept amongst a series of vaults in the Plane of Ice, where the natural stasis of that realm serves to preserve any and all things that might perish or otherwise diminish elsewhere. Finally, however, it is whispered that his most prized possession is set amongst the tempestuous storms of the Plane of Air, in a hidden sanctum as yet unseen by any mortal eye. There, Ahriman is said to have hidden lost and forgotten elemental magics, spells of balance and unity from when the Dreamleaf was whole.

Appearance

Measuring roughly ten meters in height and thirty-five meters in length, the Orange is large, but far from the largest dragon. In many ways, Ahriman is unremarkable for a Firstborn, and in a basic sense, he is not too dissimilar from his brother Doranth in terms of his basic shape. He does lack a key draconic feature, however, as Ahriman bears no wings. If he once did, they were either torn from his frame in ages past or atrophied away from disuse. He has no wicked-mace-like tail, no bones of a deceased paramour piercing his skin, and no precious gemstones studded in amongst his scaled hide. His dull-orange scales do not gleam in the sunlight and are instead marred with a countless array of scorch marks, electrical burns, and coloured patches where both frostbite and blunt-force trauma are clearly visible. And yet, when he plants his four strong legs into the ground and draws himself to his full height of eight meters, he appears to be every bit the monarch that all prudent Elementals know him to be. Like all Firstborn, it would be a grave error to mistake his rough appearance for a lack of power or authority.

What sets Ahriman apart from his more typical Draconic brethren, is the fact that he possesses not one head, but four. Although he originally possessed but one head in the earliest ages of Arthos, It is said that after the destruction of the Dreamleaf and the chaos that followed, he was so desperate to quickly restore some measure of balance to the Elements that he made a grave error. He trusted a King amongst the Fae and accepted a gift that would have long and far-reaching consequences. As he desperately consumed more and more rogue Elementals in his quest, four strange-coloured growths began to appear on his form, flanking each side of his long orange neck. As his power and dominion over the elements grew, so did these growths, until one day they had finally taken a complete shape. Each growth became its own scaled neck bearing a pythonesque head unadorned by any horns or frills. These new heads were armoured in both scales that were both Ahriman’s traditional orange, and a colour that matched the element they were attuned to. These elementally-charged scales increase in number as Ahriman consumes more and more of a particular element, before slowly reverting to their original dull orange colour when he reins in his appetites.

Although five heads had once propagated from Ahriman’s shoulders, now only four heads grace his neck. Centuries ago, his fire-aspected head was violently severed from his body when he arrogantly and foolishly dismissed the rage of a mere mortal human man. For this mistake, he was gifted a reminder of the potential that all mortals have when properly motivated, and in the place of his once-mighty head, there remains only a scarred and bloodstained stump. While this development instilled both anger and fear in equal measure for the other elementally-aspected heads, curiously the original Ahriman did not share in the intensity of the strong emotions of his “cousins” as he often patronizingly refers to them. He still utterly obliterated the poor bastard that dared to attack him, of course. Such an insult could not go unpunished.

When Ahriman has cause to abandon the raw power of his true Draconic form and walk the surface of Arthos upon two feet, he does so as an impossibly old and weathered Ogre both battered by, and armed with, the four elements. A long, shaggy mane of unkempt grey hair hangs loosely from his scalp, their ends visibly burnt and singed by flame. When revealed, his fingers are nearly coal-black with frostbite, and a long puckered lightning scar trails down from his forehead, through one milky eye, all the way down his body in an erratic, twisting line. Even his otherwise prominent tusks appear as if they were chipped and blunted by some impossibly-hard stone. However, just as his form is disfigured by the Elements, so too is it strengthened by them. In his left arm he holds aloft a shield cut from a single piece of an odd stone that appears to be not dissimilar to obsidian, but yet is dense enough to turn aside all but the strongest of blows or spells. In his right hand, he wields his weapon of choice, a bolt of living lightning that he most commonly forms into the shape of a multi-headed flail, but can take the shape of any other weapon that he desires. Covering the majority of his body is a suit of unmelting ice formed into a set of rough, yet functional plate mail that protects whatever his shield cannot, and set upon his head is a crown of animate flame with four different brightly-coloured gemstones set inside it. The gemstones are said to contain the complete essence of an extremely powerful Elemental Lord, and each confers a host of powerful abilities upon its bearer.

When he has been asked by some of his most treasured followers why he does not take the form of an Elemental, he has simply replied “because I am not of the Elements; I am the Monarch, not the subject.”

Passions

Ahriman cares not for any mortal treasure, and no offering of golden coins or glittering gemstones could ever please him.

What he does desire more than anything else, is to reclaim the essence of any traitorous Elemental being that refuses to acknowledge his rightful authority. While many Elementals do wear his Mark and obey his commands, countless hordes still refuse his call and instead swear fealty to the mightiest lords of their kind, the Titans. Service rendered unto these fearsomely powerful yet rebellious beings is simply unacceptable in the eyes of the Primordial, for that service by its very nature threatens the balance. Every Elemental Titan desires supremacy over all others and will stop at nothing to achieve it, woe to anything or anyone that might stand in their way. The vast armies that serve these beings thus empower and strengthen them, just as faith empowers a God or a hoard empowers one of the Firstborn. When his followers perform the Rite of Reclamation upon one of these rebellious Elementals, it serves two purposes. Firstly, it weakens the Titan that particular Elemental served, and secondly it empowers Ahriman as he feeds upon their reclaimed essence.

Just as Ahriman desires the sacrificial deaths of those Elementals who remain loyal to the Titans, so too does he desire anything that further strengthens his own connection to the Elemental Sphere of Magic. This primarily includes items enchanted with powerful Elemental magic, but offerings of ritual scrolls are also appreciated. Ahriman has also been known to be particularly favourable to those Aspirants that manage to discover or create new effects with Elemental magic, or with those Aspirants that manage to ascertain a powerful Elemental’s true name.

The Rite of Reclamation

To perform the Rite of Reclamation, a Dragon Knight or an Aspirant must first openly identify and challenge a particular Elemental being, who must then in turn acknowledge their challenger in some fashion. The scion of Ahriman must then declare that the Elemental is a traitor to their rightful lord while invoking Ahriman’s name, before slaying the Elemental in single combat without any outside assistance. If the scion is also capable of assuming control or otherwise influencing the Elemental, commanding them to die or to submit to execution will achieve the same result that single combat would.

This sacred rite can only be performed in the immediate vicinity of either a Temple or an empowered Draconic Pillar dedicated to Ahriman, and it may only be performed on Elemental beings that do not wear his Mark. Attempting to perform this rite whenever either of those conditions are not met will result in utter failure, perhaps even rousing the anger of the Hydra if the Aspirant’s mistake was grave enough.

So long as the rite was performed correctly, the Elemental will not dissipate and will instead begin to reform in their Elemental Plane upon being slain. The powers of Ahriman inherent in the Temples and Pillars of his servants will grasp the Elemental’s essence as it attempts to return to its own plane, irrevocably pulling it towards the Hydra’s waiting and hungry maw. If this rite is performed upon an Elemental in their native plane, it will capture the Elemental’s essence before true death can claim them.

Temperament

Ahriman can be a difficult creature to emulate. While his near-genocidal hatred of the Fae and his overwhelming need to keep the elements in balance has provided a constant throughline for his actions, the specifics of his wants and desires are always ever-changing. His many heads struggle for dominance on a near-constant basis, with each Ascendant head issuing commands and requests that may directly contradict the words of the previous Ascendant mind. Many of his would-be favoured have faltered while trying to interpret or stay ahead of his chimeric dispositions, and only those who dedicate themselves to one aspect of the emotional tempest that Ahriman is are typically found worthy of the tremendous power he bestows.

When the Dreamleaf stood and Arthos was whole, Ahriman was aided in his purpose by a pervasive sense of balance that existed when the Axioms were whole. In those days there was no division amongst the elements, for there was but a single plane, united in mind, body, and purpose. The various Elemental races understood their place in creation on a very basic, primal level, and as a consequence most did not seek to disrupt the equilibrium between themselves. Fire knew that it could not burn forever, Ice understood that endless cold would supplant all other things with time, and so on. Thus, the maintenance of the balance was a simple task, as only the occasional outlier amongst the Elementals required correction. When Doranth was forced into unleashing his breath by Salam, so much was lost in his anti-magic flames. Chief among them was the unity of elements, and with their plane sundered into four incomplete parts, the Elementals lost their guiding star and began to war with each for supremacy. Each began to seek to become The One that they knew in days of old, and so hundreds of destructive cataclysms erupted across the planes, threatening the nascent life that had begun to appear on Arthos. In his haste to stop the carnage, Ahriman accepted a tainted gift of aid from the Seasonal Courts of the Fae. With that accursed power, he was at last able to restore a delicate balance amongst the elements, but as he would soon come to discover, nothing offered by Fae is what it seems.

Ahriman’s sole concern is maintaining this balance. If granted free reign, the Elemental races will inevitably consume all life in their quest for supremacy. Balance, however, is not maintained by the mutual sense of understanding and unity that existed in the Age of Dreams, and rather it exists only because Ahriman directly enforces it. There is no velvet glove here, only an orange-scaled fist. The Elementals that have sworn to the Primordial have done so because they have seen the fate that awaits them should they refuse. Those who do not serve, are devoured by one of his four heads to increase his power over those that remain. Such is his command to any that seek to emulate him. Reform or slay those that threaten the balance between the elements.

While the threat of annihilation does keep countless Elementals in line, it in turn has had its own unfortunate consequences. Before Ahriman accepted the help that the Fae offered and possessed but one mind, he was known primarily for his emotionally-lacking nature. The Primordial was calm and logical to a fault. There was little passion or excitement in his life. The burden of maintaining the Elemental Plane was simply his duty, and it was necessary, so it was done. To an extent, that is still true of the original Ahriman. He favours simple, direct action while also doing his best to steer clear of any pointless cruelty that is often the end result of those given over entirely to logic. The Primordial does ultimately care about what would happen if he ever relented in his duty, but he believes that maintaining balance is worth the cost.

Unfortunately, however, there is no longer a single Ahriman. The Primordial shares his body with the Ahriman of Ice, Ahriman of Lightning, and Ahriman of Stone. While the original Prime Ahriman is most often in control, the over-consumption of a particular type of Elemental can increase one of his other psyche’s influence to the point wherein it can temporarily become what his followers have begun to call “Ascendant.” The mind that is Ascendant rules the body, and speaks with the authority of the Primordial. This has led to Ahriman acquiring a reputation as being somewhat unstable, for he is often at war with himself. His followers must be able to fulfill their calling while navigating his oft-changing commands or desires, and that is a difficult task for even the most dedicated of Aspirants.

While each head is effectively Ahriman and wholeheartedly agrees with the broad scope of his mission, they diverge widely when it comes to the specific methods of actually achieving that goal. These other elementally-aspected psyches are also tainted by their strong connection to their respective elements, and each lacks Prime Ahriman’s unbiased perspective. Each believes that a specific Ascendant Elemental Plane ruled by itself could enforce the balance upon all the other planes, and yet is incapable of seeing that this ironically makes themselves a threat to the balance that is Ahriman’s primary purpose. Nevertheless, Ahriman cannot ignore them, for he often needs their power to challenge the might of the Elemental Titans. He is thus constantly forced into a delicate balancing act where he might draw power to correct an imbalance, but as he feeds, that psyche’s emotions begin to influence and cloud his own judgment. This risky endeavour threatens to overtake his control completely.

Although Ahriman has since bitterly accepted his current state and seeks to manage it as best he can, he has accepted that it has made emulating him difficult. How does an Aspirant seek to become several different beings at once, especially when these beings oftentimes directly contradict each other? Ahriman needs followers to carry out his work and has acknowledged that he cannot maintain the balance on his own. So, he accepts the service of those that emulate any of his minds. However, Ahriman does not permit an Aspirant to change which psyche they seek to follow once their path has started. Following the examples set by the Prime, the Ice, the Lightning, or the Stone is a valid way to complete a Passage.

The Ahriman of Ice is similar to the Prime, at least at a first glance. Both are logical, dispassionate beings. However, after any experience with Ahriman, it quickly becomes apparent that Ice is far, far colder than the Prime, and is completely uncaring of the welfare of lesser beings. As a matter of fact, it is so closed off to empathy that it often delights when the “lesser races” suffer as he goes about his duties. Above all, the Ahriman of Ice demands that its supplicants act both logically, and cruelly. Consideration of collateral damage can be damned, and in fact, arrogant displays of mastery are encouraged. Delight in the justice that you mete out, and enjoy the suffering that your actions cause.

The Ahriman of Lightning is energy and movement itself, and it is unable to remain inactive for long while there’s work to be done. Its frantic pace and distracted mind can often result in half-baked plans or overly-hasty maneuvers being enacted. Proactive failures are far superior to letting an opportunity for correction of a minor imbalance slip away before it causes a major catastrophe. Aspirants of Lightning always have to be doing something, as they cannot give over to idleness, or extensive periods of preparation and planning. Above all, he expects that you simply act and that you do so with speed.

The Ahriman of Stone is quite obviously, the complete opposite of the Ahriman of Lightning. Stone is calm, stable, enduring, and nurturing. He is everything in Ahriman that is kind and protective of those that are threatened by the imbalance of the elements. Be that as it may, he is also set in his ways, reactionary, and difficult to motivate quickly. Convincing him to act without a plan that has not been considered for years is nigh impossible, and those who favour a slow and careful approach to maintaining the Balance have often found that Stone often suits them best.

Ahriman also still nurses a powerful hatred for the meddlesome Fae that tricked him; one of the few emotions he allows himself. The Fae are untrustworthy interlopers in affairs that are often not their own, and even if avenging their Firstborn was not enough reason to violently send them back home, the Seasonal Courts themselves often meddle with the elements and the seasons in contradiction of the Balance that he seeks to uphold. Thus, Ahriman requires that his followers never entreat with Fae, even as a last resort. An Aspirant doesn’t necessarily need to slaughter every single Fae they see, but any sort of positive encounter beyond simple non-aggression is absolutely forbidden.

Affinities

Ahriman is the undisputed master of Elemental Magic on Arthos, and no creature save perhaps Doranth can even approach his level of skill in that field. His control over the Element of Fire is perhaps the weakest of the four, but even that is beyond the skill of any mortal mage. He can also force the Elements themselves into new and otherwise impossible forms. Many a proud Elemental Lord have been humbled by a shower of Ice that burns, or a volley of Stone spears charged with the fury of the storm. This control extends to countless hordes of Elementals themselves, and Ahriman often calls upon these loyal warriors to project his power and will far beyond the borders of his territory. It is rumoured that those who serve him are so powerful and great in number, that their legions would even give the strongest of his foes pause should the Primordial commit all of them to battle at once. Those Elementals that serve him have his glowing Dragon Mark magically imprinted somewhere upon their person, sometimes by the Hydra himself, but most often by one of his lesser Elemental generals. Its shining radiance unmistakably marks them as a servant of their one true king and is nearly impossible to dispel or otherwise destroy.

The sheer amount of power he can command with a particular element depends upon his great work. As Ahriman consumes defiant Elementals and those that threaten the balance, his mastery over that element grows. However, this has the unfortunate side effect of empowering one of his other psyches attuned to that particular element. If he is too cavalier in his pursuit of power, that consciousness will eventually be able to temporarily usurp control from the original consciousness, and possibly threaten his carefully laid plans as a result. Thus, for Ahriman, the acquisition of power is always a delicate balancing act. With more power comes less control. That being said, ever since Ahriman’s Fire-aspected psyche was severed from his shoulders, that issue no longer plagues him as he consumes beings of Fire. Some of his more conspiratorially-minded followers whisper that perhaps Ahriman is not nearly as upset about that event as he lets on, but even if that is true, it is doubtful that the Primordial would ever confirm their suspicions one way or another.

Curiously, Ahriman also seems to be completely immune to all magics that affect the mind. Those scholars that have observed this phenomenon have hypothesized that this is a side effect of his multiple consciousnesses. The inherent paradox of trying to affect one mind that is also many seems to lead to the threads of magic being stretched too thinly and too far, thus unravelling without an effect as a result. Glamours and illusions likewise fail to trick the Primordial, as many meddling Fae creatures have since discovered.

Breath Weapon

Recorded in Grey Elven chronicles as simply “The Ruination,” Ahriman’s Breath Weapon has only been witnessed, and its effects recorded, exactly once in all of known history. Centuries ago, after Ahriman had at last brought some measure of stability to the Elemental Planes that had fractured as a result of the destruction of the Dreamleaf, Ahriman was assaulted by a vengeful mortal known only to his followers as “the Profane”. He and his Fae allies fought well, for they came armed with terrifying magics and an artifact of truly immense power. When one of his five heads was sliced from his body by this mortal, wielding a sword he was given by the Fae, so terrible was the resulting rage that he unleashed his Breath upon the Profane and all that stood with him. It is said that Ahriman still regrets his rash decision, as the resulting chaos utterly shattered his domain into a series of fractured islands tormented by an array of elemental anomalies that still linger to this day.

During that time, Ahriman slammed his claws violently into the solid ground. Arthos itself buckled and shook as his rapidly-growing claws tore through meters of solid rock as if it were but tissue paper, anchoring himself to the bedrock of our world as if the forces he was about to unleash might overwhelm even him. Then, as his four remaining jaws slowly opened and his elementally-aspected scales began to glow, a low dissonant keening resounded across the plains. The air itself protested as Ahriman’s mighty breath tore at the very fabric of reality, but his power could not be denied. The barriers between the planes quickly gave way, as the rushing air left behind hundreds of long, narrow tears from which the very essence of the Elemental Planes cascaded forth. It was as if a mighty dam had finally broken after centuries of holding back the flood, with fire, ice, lightning, and stone pouring forth with such speed and intensity that they alone would likely have been enough to end whatever enemy had sufficiently angered the Primordial. Furthermore, the elements themselves began to combine in new and impossible forms. Hundreds of Ahriman’s enemies found themselves crushed by clouds of solid granite, or were incinerated as the ground beneath their feet became a lake of molten magma in an instant.

The mortal man that so incensed Ahriman was spared this violent chaos, but this was not a mercy. He had taken up a blade and struck true against one of the Firstborn, and to avenge that blasphemy, only the purest expression of Ahriman’s wrath would suffice.

Ahriman opened his jaws wide and drew in all of the primordial chaos that he had just unleashed. Every flame, every pebble, every sliver of ice and every spark of lightning from miles around was drawn into his great maw, and as they combined his mouth was lit with a cascade of colours so brilliant to look at him would have driven you blind. When at last his Breath’s power had reached its climax, it exploded forth from his maws with an explosion so great that the Primordial himself was almost consumed by its power. An expression of the purest, most concentrated form of all four elements burst forth. It was a pyroclastic explosion of fire that was also frozen, yet somehow was charged with lightning and yet still as hard and solid as stone.

Of the site where it impacted, nought remains. A zone devoid of life, null even to the elements. Fire cannot burn there, water simply evaporates into nothingness, and lightning never strikes there. It is said even stone cannot hold its shape and simply crumbles to dust. Amongst the local tribes of the Dragonclaw Islands trespassing there is a taboo that is strictly enforced, with violence if necessary.

Even less remains of the mortal champion that sought to challenge the Hydra. To say that even ash remained would be incorrect.

Style of Governance

Ahriman directly and actively rules his domains within the Elemental Planes as a feudal monarch, for he claims that all Elemental beings are his subjects by right and by might, and one day even the Titans themselves will be forced to bend the knee. These ancient kings and queens of the various Elemental Planes have long since ceased listening to the commands of the Hydra, and seem far more interested in furthering the supremacy of their own element than maintaining any sort of equitable balance. Their sheer power and authority is often enough to give even one such as Ahriman pause, but if true balance is ever to be restored, it will only come with their submission or their destruction.

Those Elementals that are sapient and do acknowledge his authority are granted a noble rank within his court, and privileges in accordance with their level of power and influence. They in turn rule over the non-sapient Lesser Elementals that are simply unconscious expressions of an Element, rather than something that could truly be called an independent being in and of itself. As such, most of these Lesser Elementals are considered to be little more than chattel at best and are exploited quite heavily as labourers or shock troops in Ahriman’s constant battles with the Titans. Most of Ahriman’s royal decrees are bent towards either maintaining the balance or correcting an already existing imbalance. For example, Ahriman might decree that his Fire Elemental subjects refrain from feeding upon and encouraging the growth of a particularly large forest fire because the new flames would birth new Fire Elementals. Alternatively, he might command those very same Elementals to bring fire and light to a place locked in by massive sheets of ancient ice after discovering that the Titan of Ice is using that area to create more warriors for themselves. The actual commands themselves can also vary quite wildly depending upon which particular psyche of Ahriman’s happens to be ascendant at that particular moment, as while Ahriman’s multiple consciousnesses largely agree regarding his greater purpose, they often disagree on the particulars and regularly contradict or sabotage one another. Thus, attending court and carrying out Ahriman’s will often involves anticipating his oft-abrupt mood swings. Only those with both forethought and a light step last long in his court.

Ahriman is mostly unconcerned with the daily lives of the mortals who live upon the Dragonclaw Islands, or how they govern themselves. So long as they do not threaten the balance or otherwise impede the work of his followers, the various tribes that inhabit the Dragonclaw Islands have since learned that they are free to live as they see fit. Most of these tribes still do revere the Hydra, indifferent though he may be. Those that prove themselves worthy of Ahriman’s recognition or favour are awkwardly attached to the fringes of Ahriman’s feudal structure in the Elemental courts. They serve in a role that approaches a mixture of diplomat and knight-errant, and while their rank within this feudal structure is relatively minor, their lack of ties to any particular Elemental Plane means that when they serve as these envoys they are often better received than an actual Elemental would be. Furthermore, when Ahriman requires that a more final sort of justice be delivered upon one of his enemies, it is most often that these knight-errants are the beings called upon to deliver it.

Temple Structure

The Hydra has no Temples on the Material Plane. He has little desire to be revered by mortals, and as such the one law he enforces upon the mortals in his domain is that none are ever to be built. Ahriman despises passivity, as the Balance is far too fraught for mortals to waste their very limited time upon Arthos dithering in pointless debate. If they truly value him and his ways, he would much prefer that they act to put out the many both metaphorical and literal fires that threaten the balance. The few mortal beings that have defied his word have quickly found that he is quite adamant in this, and fewer still have survived the resulting destruction that his wrath has wrought. Still, the site of his Breath Weapon’s impact, called the “Desolation” by the tribes of Dragonclaw Island, often serves as an informal meeting point and sacred ground where matters of import are discussed. These tribes are careful to keep their meetings brief and on-topic, for while Ahriman has overlooked this minor digression from his law for the time being, he might see fit to change his mind if the necessary discussions taking place there become the sort of antics that Isana’s indolent followers often engage in.

If a mortal proves themselves worthy of his regard, they may be invited to the Temples that his Elemental followers have built in their native planes. In his domain upon the Elemental Planes themselves, his Balance is more established, and so long as the Elementals there serve him and do not roam beyond the boundaries of their planes their lives and actions cannot threaten his great work. Thus, he permits his followers there to raise great edifices in his name where they might gather and discuss his glory. And while Ahriman might permit the existence of these places, he still does consider them of any great value. Many a great Elemental Lord has tried to win Ahriman’s regard by raising a soaring tower forged from living flame or the hardest stone, only to find while they have permission to idly revere him, the Primordial does not want for pointless acts of veneration. His great work simply demands too much of his attention for his concern to lie with anything else. He does however permit a select few Temples to host great portals that link to other Temples across the Elemental Planes, allowing those Elementals with his Mark to travel effortlessly between them.

Historical Highlights

Historical Entry #1.

A brief excerpt from the interrogation logs of Otto Laurent, Imperial Inquirer for the Army of Berphaunt, on loan to the Conclave.

Dated March 2260

March 8th.

My superiors have ordered me to report to the White Tower two days from now, wherein I will apply my skills on a high-value prisoner that is being held inside. Their standard methods of magical interrogation have failed, thus they have requested my services to extract the information that they require. I must admit, I am curious and look forward to rising to the greatest challenge of my career.

March 10th.

Subject is True Fae and is of significant status and rank in the Winter Court. Its race appears to be Grey Goblin. Subject has shown significant discomfort from the iron chains used to keep it from retreating to the Fae Realm. I have ordered pure iron versions of all my tools, as I believe that my standard kit is too impure to have the desired effect. Until then, Subject will be kept in chains in a dark cell and without any stimuli.

March 15th.

My iron tools have proved remarkably effective, I have never before seen any other creature react quite so strongly to the touch of such an ordinary metal. However, while it is clear that Subject is in great distress, it remains obstinate and curses my name and lineage instead of answering questions. No matter, it will break. Everything does in the end.

March 16th.

Subject refused to answer questions, and thus I have continued the application of my art.

March 17th.

Subject refused to answer questions, and thus I have continued the application of my art.

March 18th.

Subject refused to answer questions, and thus I have continued the application of my art.

March 19th.

A breakthrough! Subject has told me its name, and has begun to offer inducements for the cessation of my work and its freedom. This information, while useless and not what my orders have called for, does indicate that my work has moved to the next stage. Now that it has acknowledged that I have power over it, Subject’s will is likely beginning to break.

Subject’s wounds are dire, but not lethal. Treatment can continue unabated.

March 20th

Subject begs for the pain to stop. I have increased the frequency of my ministrations by half again. Soon.

March 21st

Subject has been permitted a single day to rest and recover, lest my treatments cause it to expire. Wracking sobs echo from its cage.

March 22nd

Before I could even begin my work today, Subject offered to tell me whatever secrets I wished to know. Of all the things Subject offered, it seemed surprised that all I wanted were the secrets surrounding Ahriman’s feud with the Seasonal Fae Courts. When I made it clear that no, I was not saying this in jest, it began to speak so fast that I had to apply several corrections to slow its speech so that I could keep up with my writing.

“In the days when the ancient Dreamleaf was whole, the Hydra checked the power of the Seasonal Courts. As we are partially tied to the elements of our seasons, Ahriman served as a check on their power vis-à-vis his mastery of the Elements. However, the proud Fae nobles that I and many others served did not lightly accept what they saw as an intrusion upon their affairs by some jumped-up lizard. Nevertheless, in those days there was little that could truly be done to challenge the Primordial’s influence. He was simply too powerful, too entrenched within the current power structure. That is, until Doranth destroyed the Dreamleaf.

With his breath, Doranth had split the Dreamleaf asunder, and with it thus went the delicate equilibrium of the Elemental Planes. Fires raged across the planes, threatening to consume all in their path while vast glaciers of ice engulfed the land. The mountains themselves fell from the sky, as storms strong enough to end entire civilizations raged across Arthos. All Elements sought to become supreme, caring little for the consequences. Their concerns seemed to be nought but satisfying their hunger, or defeating their rivals, and woe to anyone that stood between their clashing primordial forces. Ahriman was stirred to action, and we all watched with bated breath as he frantically tried to contain the massive disaster unfolding before his very eyes. However, try as he might, it was clear that he alone was not enough, and his power couldn’t restore the Balance. As this chaos unfolded, my masters with the upper echelons of the Fae nobility saw something that most other beings at the time did not.

Opportunity.

Thus, the Monarchs of all the Courts came together in secret and devised a most devious plan. Feigning submission, they came before Ahriman and offered him a gift. They presented unto him an ancient and impossibly beautiful flower, and upon its perfect crystalline petals was written a spell that was old when the world was young. Deciphering the Fae’s arcane language was difficult, but after an arduous period of study, the Primordial found that this spell would provide a means by which he might increase his powers over the Elements by an order of several magnitudes. Ahriman had always been known for his wisdom and forethought, but with the elements raging apocalyptically all around him, he did not take a moment to consider that the chalice being offered to him by my lords might in fact be a poisoned one. Thus, he accepted their gift and applied their ancient Fae magics unto himself. At first, it appeared as if my lords had been entirely truthful. With the secrets they provided, Ahriman could utterly consume an Elemental being, which had the effect of both removing the Elemental itself from the equation, while also adding its power to his own. As the Primordial consumed the elements, the situation gradually began to stabilize, if not quite to the level of the true balance known during the days of the Dreamleaf, it was at least something that could allow for the presence of mortal life.

However, as the chaos receded, the trap that my betters had laid had already begun to take root within the Dragon’s spirit. Ahriman began to notice strange growths that had begun to form along his shoulders, two on each side of his long orange neck. They were oddly discoloured as well, whereas Ahriman had only possessed scales of dull orange, now he observed red, yellow, white, and grey scales dotting these growths. I imagine that he was likely quite concerned by this new development, but I suppose he also felt that he couldn’t stop now, for his work was not yet done. Thus, as he consumed more Elementals, the growths themselves grew into longer ropelike necks. At first, they simply hung loosely, but as they grew larger copies of his orange head began to take shape upon each slender neck. This continued until at last one day, the heads were fully formed and their eyes snapped open.

As we observed the Orange Dragon, we saw that each individual psyche seemed to think that it itself was Ahriman, and while they all agreed with the Orange regarding what must be done about the current crisis, they disagreed on exactly how they should do it. At first, Ahriman Prime was able to remain in control, but as more and more elements were consumed out of necessity, he found himself favouring one element over another as his other psyches briefly assumed control. As his greatest plans fell to ruin and he was forced to scramble to keep the situation from deteriorating again, he saw the so-called gift of the Fae for what it truly was.

Revenge.

With all of his psyches competing with what was effectively themselves, the Fae had both punished the Primordial for his earlier slights against the Seasonal Courts, and had ensured that he would never again be able to achieve the clarity of focus required to challenge my lords.”

After Subject finished I commenced another session to ensure that its tale was no falsehood. I am satisfied with the result.

March 23rd

The mages of the Conclave, having gotten what they wanted from Subject, performed some sort of powerful ritual that severed Subject’s connection to the Fae Realm. I was told that this effectively made him mortal just as we were, and I watched as a mage then manifested a sword of fire from thin air, before cleaving Subject’s head from its shoulders. Its body remained, which as I understand it, does not usually happen when one is of the True Fae.

I must say, as enlightening as this all has been, I will be disappointed after surrendering this transcription of the Fae’s tale to the Conclave. Were I able to keep a copy, I would have enjoyed being able to reference it myself at a later date.

Historical Entry #2.

The following tale is transcribed by Raphael DuFontaine, a scholar of the Firstborn, from the oral traditions of the ancient Silent Spear Tribe, a tribe native to the Dragonclaw Islands.

Dated August 24, 2059.

You wish to hear the tale of the Profane? The foolish mortal who wounded the Primordial, in service to an unworthy master and with a weapon that was not their right to wield?

Very well.

We know that in ages past, our mighty Dragon had five heads. One orange, the others muddied with a connection to one of the four elements and partially coloured accordingly. Some of the older Draconians amongst us that can still recall those early days have told us that while dealing with these several similar, yet different copies of himself was tiring and difficult, the power over their respective elements that they offered did seem to be an overall gain. The advantage these copies afforded proved especially useful when the Primordial had to bring one of the willful Elemental Titans to heel. These beings are the purest expression of their element, nearly as ancient as the Firstborn themselves and almost as powerful. As such, they did not accept the Ahriman’s natural dominion over them and were often the cause of threats that arose to the Balance. As mighty as he was, Ahriman would have been hard-pressed in his conflicts with them if he had but only his own strength to call upon. But when his respective copies had gorged themselves on their element and thus had come into the full measure of their power, the Titans often found themselves being forced to submit. The Titans would struggle against their bonds and rebel, Ahriman would feed before humbling them, and then they would acknowledge defeat for a time before rebelling yet again. Such was the nature of things in those days, we are told.

Although this endless struggle seemed to be what destiny had in store for the Titans, that did not mean they accepted their fate gracefully. In particular, Vulca, the Titan of Fire was an especially proud being, a being whose very nature strained against Ahriman’s rule. It would not be right to call them evil or cruel exactly, but “The Flame of Pride” could not abide these constant defeats. They resolved to do something, anything, that might break his hold over their Fire, no matter the cost. But, their options in that regard were limited. They could not trust any of their titanic siblings. Although they too hated the Hydra, these beings would inevitably see any attempts at an alliance as an opportunity to betray them, and thus advance their own element’s influence. No God would aid them either. Even Pandora was unlikely to give aid to the Titan of Fire, disdainful of the Firstborn though she might be.

Samhradh, High Lord of the Summer Court, was known to often walk with Vulca through the realm as a pair of lovers might take a leisurely stroll through a garden, and it is believed that it was during these walks that she came aware of Vulca’s plight. Samhradh had little love for the Primordial herself, having been one of the beings that tricked him for interfering in their affairs so long ago. While their ancient scheme had had the desired outcome, they had not intended for Ahriman to be able to further empower himself as a result, even if the price was an unwelcome degree of mental instability. Furthermore, the Lord of the Summer Court was quite plainly, dismayed at the indignities suffered by Vulca. Their natures and their passions were one and the same, and she shared in the pain felt by her titanic friend. This was the moment that Ahriman believes in which they hatched their scheme.

The Seasonal Courts have treasures beyond what most mortals can conceive of, and Samhradh knew of them all. There were spells and devices that could drag the Sun into an endless night, turn the most unappetizing rot into the finest of banquets, or even grant eternal life to the most base of mortal creatures. But of particular note, was the weapon held by her rival Karios, the Lord of the Winter Court. True, it took the shape of a sword, but it was far more than just an enchanted blade. It was the very idea of cold given shape, forged from the tattered remnants of a perfect world that has since been unmade. Within the Pale Blade was the desolation of true winter itself, for the winters that Arthos now felt were but a pale imitation of the true desolation the name once held.

Acquiring such a weapon by force or guile would be nearly impossible, and even if Samhradh or her servants did succeed, it would likely lead to a civil war that she had no intention of fighting. Nevertheless, this weapon seemed to be the only method by which Vulca and her people might finally emancipate themselves, as all other approaches she had pursued had not borne fruit. Thus, Samhradh contacted Essyllt, the Firstborn closest to her kind. Essyllt herself was wary when the Lord of Summer offered her several favours in exchange for one from Karios, as the lords of the Fae are generally quite reluctant to wrap themselves in chains of obligation for less than they stood to gain. But in the end, she did not deny Samhradh’s request, and the bargain was struck. Karios was incensed when Samhradh’s envoys demanded his most treasured possession, but to deny them would mean to go against the ancient laws that were the very foundation of Fae culture.

Thus, the Pale Blade found its way into Vulca’s possession. They could not wield it themselves, nor could they even abide its presence, for it was anathema to fire, passion, and heat. Together, they searched for one who could wield such a thing.

Of the mortal man we now call “the Profane” for his terrible deed we know very little, save that he suffered what he believed to be a great injustice at Ahriman’s hands. The details, like many things, are unfortunately lost to time. It is commonly believed that he lost his family and home during one of the indiscriminate cataclysms that accompanied the Hydra’s battles with the greatest of the Elemental Lords, as these were sadly not uncommon. Twisted by hate and rage, the Profane was visited by a rather mysterious stranger. They were impossibly beautiful, wearing a robe of scintillating gossamer silk and standing nearly eight feet tall; if one included the stag’s rack that sat upon their head like a crown. They spoke of the Ahriman’s strongest and most hated foes and subtly indicated that in them he might find the vengeance he so desperately needed. It is said that he called out to all the Titans that night, though only Vulca answered his call, and raised him up as her champion.

Vulca launched an assault upon the Plane of Ice to draw the Primordial’s attention, during which the Profane and a select group composed of several Summer Court Fae, along with Vulca’s strongest mortal cultists slipped through a portal that led directly into Ahriman’s lair. Cloaked by Fae magic, the distracted Firstborn did not notice their presence until it was too late. The Profane tore open a rift to the home plane of their master, and as an army of Elementals poured through, the Fae pinned down the Primordial with their spells. Ahriman struggled mightily, and although they could not hold him for long, it would be enough. Perhaps he could have unleashed the fullest extent of his power right then and there, but it is believed that he did not see the truest extent of the threat represented by the man striding towards him. He was simply a mortal human man, what could he do against the scales of a Dragon? Well, the arrogant Hydra would soon have his answer, as the Profane drew the Pale Blade and raised it with murderous intent. With a single mighty swing, the coldest Ice met the hottest Flame like an unstoppable force colliding with an immovable object. The weapon ultimately snapped under the strain, but it did not break before the Ahriman of Fire had been strewn from Ahriman’s shoulders, tumbling into a nearby river and washing away.

It is said that the bellow of pain and rage was so thunderous that everyone and everything present was struck deaf. The interlopers fell to the ground clutching their heads in agony.

Ahriman was so antagonized that he did the one thing he had sworn never to do: Unleash his Breath Weapon. The strongest of the Fae were beginning to recover from his roar when spears of iron-infused lighting impaled them to the ground, while the mortal cultists of flame were consumed by the lakes of magma or frozen flames that devoured all in their path. The ground buckled and quaked as cataclysmic forces beyond Ahriman’s control began to reshape the land. He could not stop now, not even if he wanted to. The Profane simply stood in horror as they witnessed the elemental hell that they had unleashed, and we like to think that in this moment they began to understand the sheer gravity of the crime they had committed, and finally the grim fate that awaited them. When Ahriman had, at last, gathered the full force of his wrath, the resultant blast of all four of the elements combined into a perfect synthesis that all but erased the Profane from existence. To this very day, the site of Ruination’s impact is both sacred and accursed to my people.

As he ruminated upon what he had done, for the first time in centuries his various minds all came to the same, singular conclusion. They had erred, and erred badly. While breathing Ruination upon all those who had assaulted him had ultimately been necessary, if he had not allowed his Draconic arrogance to cloud his judgment, perhaps a less destructive resolution could have been reached. His territory was in chaos, many of his people dead, and he was now gravely wounded, all because he misjudged a small mortal man, and underestimated the threat posed by the immortal Seasonal Fae Courts. Today, his still-open wound serves as an eternal reminder that the smallest, most innocuous creature can still have a tremendous effect upon the world. Ahriman now understands that too much faith in yourself can only cloud your judgment.

While the Profane had been suitably punished and his armies scattered or destroyed, the damage had been done. The Ahriman of Fire was no more, and my Lord’s mastery over Fire had thus diminished as a result. This in turn has led Vulca and her Lords to be even more brazen in their attempts to upset the Balance, and while my Lord would never admit this, Fire grows stronger with each passing decade despite his best efforts. Each summer gets a little warmer, and each winter becomes just a little bit shorter. Go, check the records left by your mages, and your scholars. They will confirm the truth of my words. If the Balance is not set right, we will all burn.

I am Korvax, son of Mough, Shaman of the Silent Spears.