Deep within the Alaron Mountains, inside a cave labyrinth, the ancient Bronze Dragon Nemer had been trapped in an uncontrollable bout of morning grumpiness ever since a Sending spell from his fellow Metal Dragons had roused him from his long slumber.
Yet, as a lawful good Bronze Dragon, he was clearly unlike those two comic fools—the Copper Dragon and the Brass Dragon. He possessed enough self-control to steady his catlike, ever-shifting emotions.
Though the rumor from Calimshan sounded rather absurd, Nemer, who styled himself a watcher of the Sword Coast, could not simply stand by.
Silver Dragons could practically be called the standard-bearers of justice among Metal Dragons, paragons of kindness who more often filled social roles akin to guardians of order, striking down all evil within their sight.
But Silver Dragons corrupted by evil had not been unheard of throughout history, and once they fell into evil, they often became the guardians and enforcers of certain wicked priests or rituals!
It was the greatest desecration of goodness and order!
Nemer, overflowing with righteous indignation, would never allow such a thing to happen.
Moreover, he had only just awakened when the enormous upheaval on Moonshadow Island left him utterly stunned.
Moonshadow Island, peaceful and tranquil from his childhood through adulthood, had actually been ravaged by the flames of war!
Even in the midst of this monsoon rainy season, from atop the Alaron Mountains, he could still clearly see the battle-fires constantly rising from Calidyrr's royal capital.
Under normal circumstances, after listening to tales of war chronicles his entire life, he might have charged down the mountain without a second word to join the battle. With such an achievement under his belt, Nemer could brag about it to his gang of idiot companions for the rest of his life.
But at