The Death Maze

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Cold cave water dripped down, echoing across the walls of the great cavern. 

The expedition was in trouble, and they knew it. They were lost.

Back and forth they'd gone, searching for the way out in the way they'd come in. It had to be there, how else had they gotten down here?

The cave seemed to want them inside. Walls would shift behind their backs, and sometimes right before their eyes, if only one of them were watching. Of course, this simply made the explorers all the more panicked.
Hours became days, and the urgency grew higher. Their shouts became louder, for help, at each other. How would they escape?
A sinister presence permeated the group, of this they were now certain. Huddled, starving, cringing in a corner without the strength to move, the dark force crept closer and closer. One by one, the explorers closed their eyes and never opened them again.
There did they lay until a century later, when another curious group fell into the grip of Turnor Cave, or as the ancients called it, the Death Maze.

Her Long Journey

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Her long journey had finally led here. 

The pristine valley spread out below. Aira stood, looking out across the dense landscape. 

Everything she'd heard about the valley was true. A graceful waterfall flowed down out of sight. Birds on a wing flew above, soaring into a darkening sky.

Here the road led, here the path ended. In she must go.

For here lay her true calling, within she would find her destiny. A destiny of love, knowledge, and ultimate betrayal.

For all power carries with it such perils. Men covet power above all else, and that which Aira sought was the ultimate power and as such, held the ultimate risk.

But the danger would be worth the price. After all, what else had she too lose? Already she'd been through love and loss, seen beauty and brutality, felt the graceful touch of passion, and the powerful sting of violence.

Her pysche already scarred, why then shouldn't she have the power as well? At least with the power in hand, she could bring the hammer of justice to those who needed it, deserved it. 

And bring it she would.

Aira spent ten years in the Noth Cave, secreted away from the world, learning the secrets of magical arts from creatures long thought extinct from the world.

And when she returned, she brought not only justice, but a wreaking vengeance that knew no bounds, no bounds at all.

Dangerous Knowledge

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Daleon, valley of kings, realm of the holy, keepers of the wisdom of light. For hundreds of years the City in the Mountains had lain undisturbed, and untouched by the wider world. 

Daleon was a place of learning, of wisdom and understanding, a place where scholars and sages gathered knowledge from around the world. From here, the legacies and legends from a thousand civilizations could remain pure and incorruptible. Here the scrolls of ancient prophecy and dark myth were safe, guarded.

But some knowledge is meant to be forgotten, and some things should never be discovered at all. Some information has a way of twisting those that know it, turning them from decent folks to people with dark and deadly ambitions. Such is the nature of power, and some information is in fact power in its purest form.

And so the enemies of knowledge impelled their most dangerous allies to find the hidden city, and lay low its mighty walls and arrogant scholars. For who were they to keep secrets from the kings of the earth? Did these sages think they could steal secrets with impunity, simply because they had no hostile intent?

Intent made little difference in the end, when the dragons found the city and burned Daleon to the ground. 

Rumor held that no one escaped the carnage and conflagration that ensued, and much was certainly lost in that fatal attack. 

Some few believe that not all the sages were massacred that day, that some few escaped, perhaps with the very knowledge the dragons were sent there to destroy. 

None however, know for sure. For some things are not meant to be known.

She Ended

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The war was over. Victory was in hand at last.

But at what cost? Both sides incurred innumerable losses. No one was spared the suffering of grief and sorrow.

Yet what else could have been done? Their freedom, their way of life, had been threatened by greed and dark chains of oppression. Should they not fight for what they believe in? Should they not stand for their families and those they love?

Smoldering fields of the dead answered those questions well enough. They would fight, and die, to protect those they loved.

She ended the war, with a battle so calculated and precise the enemy had never even seen them coming. Pouring over the mountains her dragon's came, bringing fiery death from above, and an end to a catastrophic war brought on by greed and ambition.
Tales were told for generations of the fierce warrior woman and her army of dragons. The truth of that history faded as the legends took hold, but no one ever forgot her, or her winged comrades.