The Final Battle of the War of the Dragon

In the twilight of the War of the Dragon, the Eastern continent bore witness to a clash of titanic forces. The armies of Light and Shadow met on the fertile plains beneath the looming shadow of the super-volcano, known as the Dragon's Mount.

The air was thick with tension, the sky a canvas of swirling ash and fire.

Light, radiant and ethereal, stood as a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness. Its presence was a symphony of luminescence, casting long, haunting shadows across the battlefield. Opposite, Shadow shifted and writhed, a creature of pure malice, its form morphing between a fearsome dragon and the imposing figure of Lord Fenshad.

The armies clashed with a ferocity born of desperation and loyalty. Warriors of Light, their armor gleaming with an otherworldly glow, fought with unwavering resolve. Their spirit swords sang through the air, each strike a testament to their devotion. The soldiers of Shadow, cloaked in darkness, moved with a sinister grace, their own magic formed into weapons of dark fire.

The battle was a dance of Light and Shadow, each strike a clash of opposing forces. Light’s brilliance seared through the gloom, each beam a desperate attempt to drive back the darkness. Shadow, in turn, enveloped the Light, its tendrils of darkness weaving a tapestry of despair and dread.

Recognizing that the followers of Fenshad would not be swayed from their purpose, Light withdrew its armies from the battle, directing them westward towards the ocean.

The ground trembled and the sky roared. With a final blow, Light woke the super-volcano with a cataclysmic fury. Molten rock and ash spewed forth, a harbinger of the continent’s doom. In a final, protective act, Light summoned its strength and cast a magical veil around the Eastern continent, containing the eruption’s devastation.

With a sorrowful gaze, Light departed, leaving the land shrouded in a Winter of Ash. The veil, a shimmering barrier, marked the boundary of Shadow’s dominion. Within its confines, all belonged to the Shadow, a realm of eternal twilight and unending sorrow.

The followers of Lord Fenshad had been granted their fondest wish: freedom from the Light.