Appearance

It is not enough to say that Suulazultsur’s scales were green. They were, but that description cannot do them enough justice. Their colour was rich, deep, and radiated a kind of vibrancy and life that only one so connected to the natural world as she could ever hope to display. Much like her cousin Doranth, her draconic form was not atypical to what most folk would think of when you say the word ‘dragon.’ She was far from the largest of her kind, and it was said that even in her draconic form that she was small enough to walk between the trees of her forest. Vitality and power suffused her very being, and it was said that her strength was a reflection of the health of the life she shepherded.

Meanwhile, the only mortal form she was known to take was that of an abnormally tall Grey Elven woman. Standing nearly ten feet tall, she was clad in living plant matter that, at a first glance, would be mistaken for a simple yet elegant dress. She wore no shoes upon her feet, preferring to remain in direct contact with the earth that she cherished so deeply. The one luxury she did allow herself was a selection of polished amber beads bound together in woven tree bark that hung loosely from her neck.

Former Territory

Suulazultsur’s domain included the entirety of the ancient woodland simply known as the Grey Elven Forest. Home to the last Grey Elven city of Tse Maigrindof, this primeval forest was a pale reflection of the natural splendour she had once nurtured in the days of the Dreamleaf. Even so, it was said to be one of the most beautiful and bountiful forests upon Arthos. So it was, until the birth of her greater enemy and eventual slayer, the being known only as Inviticus. Years of malign necromantic pollution and rampaging Undead would poison this reputation, with most folk referring to it only as the Cursed Forest from then on.

Tse Maigrindof was known to be a city that moved under its own power, and coupled with the fact that the Green made her lair within its lower boughs, she was not someone that could be found unless she wished it so. And even if they did, an unwelcome invader would have to contend with some of the last True Thalan to walk the surface of Arthos. The Grey Elves who lived with her domain were said to have done so for several reasons, not the least of which being that as stewards of the natural world, there was no creature more reverent of living things than the Green. Though their own wisdom was great, hers was greater still, and they learned much from her. She was also a valued and trusted companion to their people, and it was widely believed that she knew each and every last one by name. Quite simply, they loved Suulazultsur, and wouldn’t have built their last city anywhere else.

History and Death

One cannot understand the tale of Suulazultsur’s death, without first understanding the history of her chosen folk, the Grey Elves. As one of the first peoples to awaken upon Arthos, the Grey Elves sought to teach the races that came after them, to grant them the gifts of civilization and to share their wisdom with these young charges. Such was the way of things, with many races of folk studying at the feet of the Grey Elves, and it continued right up until the birth of humanity. While the Human race at first accepted the gifts of the Grey Elves, it was not long before they began to decry the attempts of the elves to influence their character, with many feeling that they had unwillingly been placed into bonds of servitude or brainwashed. They asked to be freed, and the Grey Elves, stunned by this request, made their first mistake; they refused.

Arthos had not seen war since the departure of the Gods and Demons from the world, and no mortal was truly aware of the horrors to come. The Humans rose up against their perceived captors and exploded in violence, slaughtering any elf they could get their hands on. The Grey Elves fought back, and it is said that their terrible magics inflicted a toll that was many times greater than the losses they suffered. But, in the end, their fate was sealed. The Humans were too many, and their elves were too few. Even if the Gods had not empowered the early Humans, the outcome would have likely have been the same regardless. Such was the magnitude of the terrors and bloodshed unleashed that much of this original elven city became little more than a charnel pit, with the very ground itself being severely poisoned with negative energy. The bones of the fallen were said to be piled so high that in time, when nature had at last somewhat reclaimed the area, an entirely new geological formation stood.

The Sun Ridge.

Suulazultsur had preserved a small fraction of the True Thalan through all this chaos, with her charges managing to escape the traumatic exodus that would splinter their race into its various subtypes. She was however, not as experienced in combat as some of her other Firstborn kin, and as such she did not press when the servants of the Divine made themselves known upon the battlefield. This decision to pull back and remain hidden with a chosen few was something she saw as necessary, yet would still haunt her to the end of her days. Those she had managed to save would eventually found the wandering city of Tse Maigrindof, where the Green would rest and guide the last Grey Elves in their duties as the stewards of Arthos.

Such might have been the way of things even to this very day, were it not for the interference of the Citadel. Comprised of Paladins, lay soldiers, and Wytch Hunters, the military arm of the former Church of Light was responsible for rooting out and purging dark forces, wherever they might be found. The Sun Ridge’s evil had been known to the Church for some time. Those few that dared live upon the Cursed Forest’s edge were often plagued by misfortune, violence, and paranoia, and were looked upon with suspicion as being tainted somehow. To make matters worse, the forest itself was often a hotbed of Undead activity, as many necromancers found that their spells seemed to be especially effective there.

This state of affairs could not stand, and thus in the year 2233 the Citadel gathered a powerful host and descended upon the Sun Ridge. With steel, spells, and flame they purged all those of an evil disposition who sought to keep them from their destination. There, at the very center where all of this foul necromantic power was at its most concentrated, did the Wytch Hunter General and his Clerics unleash a ritual of Divine Magic that rivalled the capabilities of the Conclave. They had expected the site to be purged of all its evil and filth, instead, it exploded. The resulting backlash incinerated over ninety percent of the Citadel forces. For days afterward it rained splinters of necromantically-tainted bone—that came to be known as ‘Boneshards’—all across the land, tainting the pure and pristine forests the Grey Elves had worked so hard to protect. Those who cowered within the fortified buildings of Tse Maigrindof were not entirely safe, with even the Grey Elven Oracle Annastasia herself being pierced by one of these grim fragments.

To those who survived and questioned why and how their Light-given powers had failed, an answer was soon given. All of that hate, that pain, that violence and rage from the fall of the True Thalan had slumbered beneath the pregnant soil, stirring under the surface like a fitful sleeper, but never truly awake. It took a direct threat to its existence for all of that negative energy to coalesce, and the being that emerged was a force that even Gods and Firstborn would come to fear. Centuries of negative emotions, Deep Magic, and stolen power combined took shape, and tore itself from its rotting womb.

It called itself Inviticus.

For months afterwards this foul creature plagued the remaining uncorrupted Grey Elves, and those who lived in the lands that bordered the now cursed Grey Elven forest. So thick was the foul darkness that hung over the forests that the source of the Undead plague could not be ascertained for many months, but even the mightiest folk could not hold out against the seemingly never-ending tide of Undead that assaulted their homes daily. Thus, the Conclave and Suvant came together to create a magical wall that would hold the Undead hordes back. This sorcerous barrier was called “the Curtain,” and it stretched for hundreds of miles, originating in the town of Silverbreach to the West, and coming through Jericho and Mea Visa before ending at the settlement of Galen’s Honour to the East. This wall was powered by a set of experimental magic beacons held in these towns, and bought the forces of the living enough time to ascertain just where and when to strike.

Uncorrupted Grey Elves, working with Suvant, commissioned adventurers to enter Tse Maigrindof. They were informed that Tse Maigrindof had become corrupted when the Sun Ridge had exploded, and was the source behind the corruption of the Grey Elves and their forest. They believed that at the heart of Tse Maigrindof was a Henge. This was the first Henge on Arthos, for it was created by Suulazultsur deep within the roots of Tse Maigrindof to be her lair. These adventurers were tasked to purify the Henge, so that the corruption might finally be reversed and the forest cleansed. Unbeknownst to the larger body of adventurers at the time, House Shalonost of Suvant had a backup strategy. Taking aside several trusted agents amongst the more unsavoury adventurers, an alternative plan was provided. If the First Henge could be cleansed; fantastic. But if not, failure was not an option. If Inviticus and its forces were not stopped here, there would be no telling what amount of death and destruction they would wreak in lands beyond. Thus, they were provided with a large runic bomb, thrumming with barely contained raw arcane power. If the Henge could not be purified, they were to detonate the bomb, consuming Tse Margrindof and Suulazultsur along with it.

December of 2253 saw the forces of the Kingdom of Berphaunt and Nation of Suvant gather against the armies of Inviticus during the Battle of Tse Maigrindof. Countless lives were lost as the soldiers of the living cut a path to the First Henge through a wall of the walking dead. Their resolve was without question however, and eventually they stood before the city’s rotting heart. At first, it seemed like the heroes of the time had finally caught a bit of luck. Suulazultsur was trapped by the corrupted root system of her Henge; that much was true. But she herself was hale, untouched by the foul putrefaction that had poisoned much of her lair. Surely she could be freed, and the day won?

However, nothing they did to banish the corruption seemed to have any effect, and their hope waned with each failed attempt to save their beloved Firstborn. In the end, there was nothing to do but use the runic bomb provided by House Shalonost. The resulting conflagration consumed the city in its entirety, but as the smoke cleared it seemed as if those present were blessed by a miracle. Suulazultsur had lived. Her form was ravaged, her breath ragged, and her wings were tattered seemingly beyond all repair. But she was alive, despite the death of her Henge’s heart, she preserved. For a brief moment, she stood amidst the ashen remains of the corruption that had once taken her domain, victorious. As she haltingly began to open her fanged maw, to thank those brief mortals who had sacrificed so much to save her, and to assure those who remained alive that she did not blame them for the destruction of her dominion, a vast shadow crept over the land.

Inviticus had taken the field.

Suulazultsur, knowing that none of these mortals could hope to match the raw power of this foul being, acted on impulse and took wing, meeting him in the sky. In a storm of claw and fang she tore at Inviticus, ripping apart his decaying flesh as Inviticus countered her force with his necromantic power. With each bolt of Infliction, the Dragon’s flesh was torn away, only to be restored when she drew power from the vibrant arboreal life that had not been destroyed by the runic bomb, or spoiled by necromancy. Perhaps at her full strength she could have brought Inviticus low, but that is not what happened on that grim day. Eventually, as her power began to flag and her wounds stole what little strength she had left, Inviticus sprung his trap.

Great black chains wreathed with crackling purple energy burst forth from the ground, tearing through Suulazultsur’s scaled flesh as if it were but paper. She thrashed and roared in agony and she was bound, her struggles getting weaker and weaker as more chains secured her place above the city. When at last her strength was sapped, Inviticus slowly approached her head, clutching a massive Boneshard that glowed with intense necromantic power. Her screams as Inviticus slowly drove the shard into her eye were said to be so haunting and traumatic that several Grey Elves perished on the spot, and those who survived were forced to watch as their beloved protector and guide died a final death.

Her scales, and the skin beneath, sloughed off in waves as Infliction energy rippled across her form. Her flesh fell in wet and rotting clumps to the forest floor below. Muscles and organs followed soon after, with many of those brave folk who came to save her drowning beneath the tide of filth that rained from the sky. When at last only the bones of her skeleton remained, Inviticus spoke words so vile in the language of Death that they cannot be repeated, and bound the remnants of her spirit with a large emerald. Those who survived these horrors fled to lick their wounds, and rally support for the next battle to come.

The Dracolich that was once Suulazultsur was utterly bound to the will of Inviticus, and while it was not as strong as she was in life, it still cannot be overstated that the Dracolich was the singular most powerful Undead creature to have ever walked the surface of Arthos. It was not until All-Hallows Eve of that year that the forces of the living were ready to even attempt to put her to rest. It was only then, when the veil between the Material Plane and the Deadlands was thinnest, could she be slain. Suulazultsur-as-Dracolich was the most fearsome foe nearly any mortal creature had ever faced, and the fight to do so was nearly a military campaign in its size and complexity. While the bulk of the mortal forces held back the tide of Undead, the strongest champions of the alliance exploited the weak planar veil to enter the strange pocket dimension in which her spirit resided. There, after a great and terrible battle that took place across two planes of existence, was the Dracolich Suulazultsur finally slain.

Her phylactery was not destroyed after the battle, and over the next several years it changed hands many times, before finally coming into the possession of the Firstborn known as Ixiad. She, in exchange for an as of yet unknown price, traded the phylactery to Styphon in the year 2261. The Black Wyrm had long held a deep respect for Suulazultsur. Some have theorized that he respected one so dedicated to life as he was to death, and while others claim his regard was something that approached a sort of forbidden love. Nevertheless, it remains clear that Styphon has not attempted to raise the Dracolich again, nor as he attempted to use the remnants of her tainted spirit for any of his grim spells. To this day her phylactery remains imprisoned in Thade, the necromantic Orb of Power in Styphon’s possession.

(Note: Art used is an AI-generated placeholder)