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Zhalith: His life and death. Zhalith, Lord of the Damned, began his life as a great red dragon who lived in the mountains north of what is now Stanneg. In his life, he laid low houses and farms alike, and was the undisputed lord of his area. Then one day, he ran afoul of a group of adventurers and was slain in his lair while sleeping. Cursing his fate, he struggled to remain conscious as his life ebbed, and the following night, noticed that his vision had cleared, his hearing had resumed it's normal sharpness and his pain was no longer noticable. But, after looking at his body, he realized he had surpassed death, and had become what was called a DracoLich. But misfortune struck again instantly, as a group of drow elves, led by the scent of powerful magics, burst into his chamber and rendered him helpless for the second time in as many days. He was chained, manacled and magically transported to the gates of a great drow city, where he was bound by a powerful spell to remain there, guarding the gates of the city. Over the centuries, Zhalith plotted and schemed as he watched the ascension of other gods, like Cauchemar the Nightmare Lord, and Jizmak, oldest and most vile of the ogre race. After many decades of thought, Zhalith remembered an ancient rite of magicks known only to the dragon race, and cast a spell that allowed him to feed off the excess magical energy of the drow city, in essence, to "eat" that which the drow were throwing out. For over 50 years, Zhalith the DracoLich fed on the energies of his drow captors, each day renewing his vow to wreak havoc on the drow and on the realms in general should his plan work. He had witnessed the disappearance of both Cauchemar and Jizmak, and knew that his time was coming, a time when he would be lord of all the lands, for none stood in his way, or so he thought. Finally, on one fateful day, Zhalith focused the energies he had leeched from the drow and, with one forceful push of his will, broke the enchantment that held him within the drow's cavernous gatechamber, and teleported himself away to the surface of the realms. By now, his flesh had rotted away completely, leaving only a glowing skeleton, but he was still able to fly through his magics, and still able to breath devestating energies at his foes. The only thing stopping him from ascending was his mortal shell. Zhalith: His quest for ascension Thinking quickly, he used his senses to detect an adventurer who's skills were pityfully insignificant next to his own, tracked that person down, and killed him slowly, and with care not to let it end too quick, not before the youth could cry out for help. The heroes of the realms came in answer to the youth's death plea, and banded together to hunt Zhalith down. He encountered magics that he had never known existed before, and was hard pressed for a time to make it appear as though he was fighting for his life, for he was certain that if the heroes knew of his desire to end his mortal existance, then would not have agreed so easily. Finally, appearing to succumb to taunts from the assembled heroes, he picked a battlefield, in the farmlands west of the village of Mesraht, and made his final stand. He battle with all of his might, but the spells he faced, especially from the men and women who followed the bardic tradition that had sprung up in his captivity, would have hampered him even if he had wanted to emerge from the conflict triumphant. Zhalith: The beginning of his immortality. With a final gasp, his mortal body was broken asunder by the heroes. In that instant, he felt a flash of light, and a sensation unlike any he had felt in his life or in his unlife: that of a mighty wind of light blowing through him. As his vision cleared, he found himself looking down upon those heroes and his corpse, and immediately announced to the world that he had arrived as a force of evil in the world, and that his reign of conquest had begun. But, once again, his desires were thwarted, at least temporarily. He found himself face to face with an entire pantheon of immortal beings, all dedicated to some form of goodness and light, and they informed him that he, like any immortal, would be allowed to exist, but that the realms were not his for the plundering, and that in fact, many of the mortals of the realms were in organizations founded by many of the gods, and were their chosen ones, thus the carefully guarded and watched over of the immortals. Zhalith: The founding of the Cult of the Dragon Furious, but thinking quickly, Zhalith began to seek out those of a like mind to him, and found several almost immediately. He sopke to them, and bound them unto him by forming his own religious organization, one dedicated to the worship of himself and the eventual overthrow of the forces of good in the realms. This group, known as the Cult of the Dragon, has already gained some notariety in the realms, as many of it's members have been dissatisfied members of other clans who Zhalith released from their obligations and bound to his own. Thus is the story of Zhalith, DracoLich, Lord of the Damned, and leader of the Cult of the Dragon. He remains a force for evil and anarchy in the realms, and, gods willing, he shall one day triumph. Long live the Dragon Lord!
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