The Bell That Woke Telly

When the first autumn breeze gently swept over Silver Moon City, the maddened dragons suddenly began rushing north in groups.

Many other dragons also suddenly appeared across Faerûn, hoping to stop their kin who might still be saved.

The power of Dragonrage suddenly weakened. Aside from the dragons already under control, the others could regain their sanity long enough to appear on the ground.

That dracolich Sammaster seemed to have run into some trouble.

The dragons' mournful cries spread across the entire continent. Many of them had lost friends and family.

Even the chromatic dragons could not help appearing to check whether their nearby kin were still alive, but most could only let out sorrowful roars with a sigh.

The two dragons hiding in Silver Moon City also roared past every day, seemingly testing the limits of what they could endure outside the Mythal.

However, judging from how bedraggled they were when they returned an hour later, the time to truly end it had not yet come.

Although no one knew what had happened, Faerûn had long grown accustomed to one or several heroes appearing every so often.

The bards had already begun planning to head north and see what had happened before Winter arrived.

Children of Destiny were truly terrifying. No matter how powerful an existence was, even one with Greater Divine Power, they could only stand by and watch.

If it was not the designated person, they could never find the truth.

Even though all the Gods knew where the high elven city that had created Dragonrage was located, they simply could not find it once they arrived there.

That city, which had fallen into a rift of time and space, could not be found even by Corellon, Father of Elves, unless it was by someone specifically chosen