The Hystory And Tale Of Doxa Lanx
As Wryt By The Honourable Scrybe Teirdas
On starred night in Northlands,
a crowd gathered.
In massive numbers were they,
and of all sizes, powers, colour.
The Dragan of the Hemisphere,
who then existed in neverending fear
Of the Gryphon and Phoenix and Roc.
For they were stupid and wild.
There was one Dragan,
and his name was Hadrax.
He was born with a gift extraordinary,
this was the first with thought.
The mighty red awakened the minds
Of his brethren.
And together the thousands shared their knowledge.
Upon snowcapped peak they did build,
laying stone after stone and carving their dreams.
The city of Doxa Lanx was made,
and in its beauty and wonder,
any Dragan could seek house.
This metropolis on the Great Mountain,
what with slanted streets and domes,
Pays honour to the Dragan Circe.
It is the Circe who govern us,
and who are fair and true.
For at their head is the King,
and he is pure of heart.
Through war and peace we have persevered,
and past hostilities put to ends.
The Gryphons, now, our closest friends.
Phoeni we live among, and Roc stay well away,
For the Templais War burns memories
that will forever remain.
For three cycles did the Dragan fight,
the Naga, Darklings, and Tais.
With eyes red and dripping fangs,
only with all our strength did they withdraw.
The Rocs supported their side,
and with their loss they will not talk again.
Nowadays the weather fair,
and scale meets scale with smile.
A Golden Age, it seems,
but only for the while.
For reasons what we cannot see as steady or in realm of explanation,
the black danger descends upon us over the fells to the South,
and through the shadowed vales march demons and disease in a roiling wave of pain.
