Mortifer

Before the Howling Chasm, a roaring sea of fire emerged, dyeing the entire horizon orange-red and rendering the shadow dragons and shadow spirits translucent. These shadow creatures wailed in agony, twitching under the firelight with sizzling hisses as mist bled ceaselessly from their forms, making them appear increasingly ethereal. Beneath this blazing All-Cleansing Flame, no shadow could hide. "Mortifer—" "If you intend to keep hiding like a coward, I will destroy everything you have!" Cassius laughed wildly. Snapping his wings, he became a colossal crimson figure swooping swiftly over Dragonshadow City. Wherever the red dragon passed, chaotic fire burned in his wake. With every sweep of his wings, a frenzied, blood-scented gale tore through the city, fanning the blaze ever higher. This half of the city had plunged into an apocalypse. Burning ancient structures stood everywhere, each building echoing with pitiful wails, curses, and screams of despair. Aside from humans, drow elves, and pure shadow creatures, the principal inhabitants of Dragonshadow City were drow who bore the bloodline of shadow dragons. Existing in the liminal space between shadow creatures and ordinary beings, these elves were also known as "shadow drow." Over the centuries, they had long submitted to the rule of the shadow dragons. Skilled in shadow magic, they were loyal, obedient subjects under Mortifer's reign, often serving as his accomplices when invading the surface world. "No, I don't want to die—" "The fire—it's spreading toward us!" "Lord Mortifer, our supreme ancestor, save us!" "Damn it! Everything has failed! Not a single spell works!" "Lolth above... is this the gods' punishment?" Yet under the effects of the Breath of Chaos, the surrounding Shadow Weave was thrown into utter disarray. Even the most rudimentary spell matrix was instantly dismantled; before they could cast even a basic shadow spell, they were swallowed by the spreading All-Cleansing Flame. ... Gazing at the flames consuming everything in the distance, Feridon could not help laughing aloud. "Hahahaha! Those shadow mongrels, they should have paid the price long ago!" "Burn them all to death, every last one!" Feridon had originally been a mercenary of some renown in the Underdark, but during one of Dragonshadow City's expansions, his lover and children were all transformed into undead shadows. Ever since, the greatest goal of his life had been to destroy Dragonshadow City and slay that shadow dragon. His heart was consumed by an indelible hatred for Mortifer. Yet Danyal stared into the distance with a grim expression, murmuring, "This dragon... seems intent on destroying everything." Feridon's laughter froze on his face. The battle-hardened fighter hurriedly asked, "Can't we escape using magic? Just like usual—you can take me straight into the Plane of Shadow." Danyal shook his head with an anxious look. "You're not a spellcaster, so you might not feel it, but the Weave here has become a chaotic mess. It's practically like plunging into the Sea of Chaos—at least, someone like me can't cast a single spell." Feridon's face instantly went pale, cold sweat beading on his forehead—whether from the encroaching heat or from extreme dread, he could not tell. He asked rather weakly, "Can we make contact with that dragon? The enemy of our enemy is a friend, and we're rebels too..." Suddenly, a terrifying tremor rippled through the air. The sky around them abruptly darkened, and Feridon and Danyal snapped their heads up. Fear painted Feridon's face. He seemed to recall once more that night when everyone dear to him had been turned into undead shadows. "That's..." "It's Mortifer. He's here," Danyal whispered. ... Half the sky was transitioning into the Shadowfell—deep black, utterly still, and suffused with stark monochrome. Twisted, grotesque withered boughs sprouted throughout Dragonshadow City, howling shadow spirits manifested in the alleys, and the heavens were draped in endless gloom like a pitch-black dome, with indistinct black peaks looming in the distance. Dragonshadow City already sat on the boundary between the Material Plane and the Shadowfell; at night, it frequently slipped into the Shadowfell. For centuries, the shadow dragon had used undead shadows to push the city's transition toward the Plane of Shadow, and now, expending nearly every ounce of his power, he brought his true domain crashing down upon Dragonshadow City. Over a thousand shadows rose into the sky, forming a massive vortex nearly a hundred meters across above the city. With a long, echoing roar, the shadow dragon emerged from the vortex, covered in black scales like dying embers, with wings formed of translucent matter. It was the "Mouthpiece of the Night," Mortifer—the shadowy nightmare that had once sent Cassius fleeing in terror, and the supreme ruler of this city. "Mortifer, rat hiding in the shadows, you've finally deigned to show yourself." "Had you waited any longer to face me..." "Centuries of your work would have turned to ash." Cassius gazed down upon the shadow dragon from on high. The entity that had once seemed invincible now looked like nothing more than a venomous black bat before him—frail, shrunken, and pathetic. Within the shadow dragon's utterly dull, grayish-white eyes flickered ghostly fire, brimming with resentment and fury—and sheer disbelief. The young red dragon who had once been entirely helpless before him had now grown into a monster over thirty meters long, already as massive and formidable as those insufferably arrogant ancient red dragons. Such an alarming growth rate was unheard of, even among legendary dragon breeds. Mortifer let out a hoarse hiss. "How can this be...?" "It's only been a few short years! By what right have you gained such power?! Not even a Chosen of Her Majesty Tiamat could receive such a blessing!" As a black dragon—unfavored and ranking only slightly above white dragons—he had succumbed to the temptation of power, choosing to plunge into the embrace of the Shadowfell and transform into an undying, indestructible shadow dragon. Yet even so, it had taken him several whole centuries to reach his current level. He could neither believe nor accept that this red dragon had surpassed him in just a few short years, reducing centuries of painstaking accumulation to nothing. Cassius sneered and beat his wings, churning up a hurricane that swept across the ground. "My power didn't come from that old hag." "Still, it's more than enough to crush a pathetic rat." Eerie green flames rekindled within Mortifer's grayish-white eyes, malice and jealousy burning in his gaze. He let out a dark, sinister roar: "You shall become the mightiest shadow under my command!" "And I—I will prove my strength to the Dragon Queen and become Her new favorite!" In the next instant, the shadow dragon flapped his incorporeal, translucent wings, threw back his slender neck, and unleashed a piercing shriek—a sound like the agonizing wails of countless living souls before being converted into undead shadows, crystallized from sheer terror of death. The sound seemed to hail from primeval darkness, mingling the discordant cries of tens of thousands of undead shadows with the shadow dragon's boundless malice toward light and life, along with his insatiable greed. A ninth-tier spell unique to the shadow dragon: —Mortifer's Shadow Descent. The pitch-black dome of the sky began slowly descending. The distant shadowy peaks crept nearer, like a cage built to imprison the world. Tens of thousands of shadow creatures wailed as they surged forward like a tide, manifesting in twisted forms of black mist. And Mortifer transformed into an immense shadow, merging his body into that dark firmament to command this dreadful domain from the shadows.