The Northeastern Campaigns of Dransul Dralm Verangthi,

or, The War of the Trumpeter.

(An excerpt from Decline and Fall of the Second Draconic Imperium,
by Ser Yoshihiro Cull, Lord Chronicler of the Bronze Dragon Phalanx)

…That the resolution of Legate Dralm Verangthi’s campaigns against the Dwarves of Dur Tak
citadel to the south led to his accession to the office of Dransul is, in the context of the Imperium
as it was in those days, relatively unsurprising. Though the resolution of the conflict was far from
the sweeping, glorious conquest of the sort that once commonly graced the empire in its early
days, it came as a blessed relief to the beleaguered Empire of the time, reeling as it was from
defeats in its Thandian territories. At the outset of the conflict, the Legio III Meridianum and
Legio XIII Fulminax, the “Lucky 13th” in which Dralm had begun his rise through the ranks as a
Tribune, and later served as a Legate, were two of the most neglected fighting forces in the
imperium. Both equipment and discipline had received little attention from the Senate since the
previous dwarven conflicts over a century prior.

That the soon-to-be Dransul was able to exact even minor trade concessions from Dur Tak’s
council of Thanes, as well as successfully demand the return of the lost Golden Dragon standard
of the Legio XIX Aquariolus, taken by the dwarves in a previous dispute over the loyalty of
client tribes living along the southern mountains of the Dragonsands, was something of a minor
miracle for the Imperium. That Dralm Verangthi managed to personally strike down the dwarven
war-leader, Thane Yenzor Nak, called Granitebeard, as well as his personal battle-mage, Olga
Kov, called Strikeflint, with the blade later known to history as Lex Invicta brought the aging
Legate no small amount of personal glory, which likely secured the approval of several key
tribunes.

The assumption of this office in such an age as lived Dralm Verangthi represented, of course, far
less a cause for fanfare than it once did. Rather than the culmination of a decades long political
career and an incomparable opportunity to affect advantageous legislation and repay loyal
clients, it merely represented a dramatic and daunting expansion of responsibility for an official
who, with recent exception, had languished for most of his life in political obscurity, and whom
few expected to succeed to the remarkable extent that he did.

In addition to the Meridianum and the Fulminax, which were transferred from their traditional
southern postings to accompany their former Legate on his Northeastern Campaign, the newly
minted Dransul was also assigned command of the Legio II Ocidentalus and the Legio XXXII
Incendium, which had been hastily reconstituted using the few available survivors of Dransul
Murnax’s disastrous campaign, which had seen Dragonborn control over the region now known
as Greater Thandia, and which was organized at the time into four dragonborn provinces,
Knomania Major, Campus Tempestus, Sylvannus Transknomanium and Sylvannus Dryadalis,
erased within the span of single proconsular term of service.

The sole remaining Dragonborn province east of the Dragonsands, the region we now know as
our own beloved Vale, and which was known to Dralm as the province of Knomania Minor,
seemed likely to face the same fate as its companion provinces north of the river Gelum, which
we call in our own time after the Mad King of the Knoma who reigned long after Dralm’s age
had passed. Dralm’s four legions, the Meridianum, the Fulminax, the Incendium and the
Ocidentalus were, per standard organizational practices of the day, all under half of their official
strength. Dralm’s combined forces during his campaign in the vale would ultimately never rise to
a number greater than 25,000 even at its height, and at the outset, before the Dransul had had any
opportunity to enroll many auxiliary forces, the number is estimated to have been less than half
this amount, with his number of professional Dragonborn legionaries only declining as casualties
would mount.

At the outset of his campaign, Dralm’s four legions each possessed about 1500 professional
dragonborn legionary infantry, and an additional 300 dragonborn heavy cavalry, the Cataphracti
Lacerta, who represented a rare and badly needed tactical innovation of the late empire. When
accounting for an “auxiliary legion” of about 2000 lesser naga warriors retained as mercenaries
by the Imperium, Dralm’s force of less than 10,000 was forced to confront an opponent, against
whom Murnax was unable to prevail with an army over four times as large.

This opponent, if I may no longer be coy, was an individual who’s life and exploits are worthy of
an entire volume in their own right, known to history as Krall the Trumpeter, the progenitor of
the Krall’s Trumpet Clan and who, today, is a widely known saint in the Bloodgrass Fields, the
Astral Court of Dagaal, god of wrath and divine patron of Orkenkind. At this point, however,
Krall’s own career was still early in its waxing period. His victory over Dransul Murnax in
Thandia followed shortly after his unification of the Orcs of the eastern plains, and was his first
large scale foray against a more civilized empire.

Some may therefore argue that Murnax is not wholly to blame for the extent of his defeat. His
approach to battle, of advancing in force with his infantry and using his cavalry to screen his
flanks, relying on the superior discipline, equipment and breath weapons of his legionaries to
break the lines of the orcs, notorious as they were for fleeing at the first sign of stiff and
organized resistance, could therefore be considered in line with the conventional wisdom of his
day.

Krall, for his part, was more than willing to play into Murnax’s presumptions about his people’s
shortcomings as soldiers. Krall, who had re-organized the society of the orcs under his rule from
a series of independent raider-camps into a unified field army, had re-defined the traditional
orders of Wolf (male) and Bear (Female) warriors. Traditionally, the wolves would seek out
other tribes or settlements of other races and plunder them, while the Bears would ensure that the
same was not done to their own camp.

Krall had re-interpreted these social roles into a tactical doctrine that was elegant in both
simplicity and brutality. As all camps had been consolidated into a great horde, that always
moved with his army on campaign, both Wolves and Bears fought on the same battlefield. The
Bears formed impenetrable shield walls and pike squares to hold the center line, while the
wolves formed up into fearsome shock elements that would tear into the flanks of an enemy
force. Murnax advanced into the waiting jaws of this formation expecting to fight disorganized
raiders fixated on personal glory and loot, and unwilling to risk their lives for the greater horde.
Instead, the line of Orcish Shieldmaidens that confronted him, indoctrinated into the Bear
warrior cult of death for the sake of hearth and young, were more than willing to endure the
barrage of Pila and breath weapons that preceded the legion’s charge. It is said that, when
Murnax saw the first few Bears fall, he lost all sight of the greater battle, and spurred his forces
onward, thinking only of the triumph that he imagined surely awaited his return to Zar.

As the Orcish line continued to buckle, the ill-fated Dransul failed to notice that fewer and fewer
orcs were actually being killed, nor that, on his flanks, his Cavalry Alae were being torn to
shreds by the echelons of Krall’s wolves, who had surged out like the the two phlanges of a
crab’s pincer from either side of the central line. When Krall’s namesake-warhorn finally
sounded, it was only then that Murnax realized his mistake, surrounded as his host was, on all
sides, by orcs. By then, it was too late. While several small breakouts were managed, they were
always temporary, and the remainder of the battle of Narala Daya, as it came to be known, was
more butchery than warcraft.

His horde flush with this victory, unprecedented as it was since the time of Dagaal himself, Krall
crossed into the province of Knomania Minor with a horde who’s numbers are estimated to have
been between 60,000 and 80,000, not counting those too young to fight (for, among orc kind,
infirmities which do not kill are usually short lived, and one is not considered too old to fight
until their old age gets them killed in battle).

The Orcish offensive initially stalled outside of the Draconic city of Pontem Viridi, located in
what is today’s Chakkee District, which, at the time, was both heavily fortified, the primary
crossing over the Gelum, and extremely difficult to besiege, owing to its existing on both sides of
the River Gelum. This delay allowed Dralm some time to plan his defense of the province, as
well as attempt to bolster his forces.

Dralm accomplished this goal by calling together the chieftains of four Knoma tribes who dwelt
close to his route of march into the Vale. These tribes were the Regnai, the Sookhai, the Neelai
and the Lohai. Though the Knoma had long chafed under the rule of the Dragonborn, Dralm was
able to successfully argue that orcs, savage as their reputation remains to this day, were a more
dire threat, especially in light of the easing of imperial restrictions that Dralm, as Dransul, could
now credibly offer. With the enlistment of the warrior of these four tribes into his auxilliary
forces, Dralm’s command swelled to a size of approximately 16,000 warriors. This force, though
still significantly outnumbered in the greater strategic sense, nonetheless granted the Dransul a
great many more options in pursuing the campaign.

The old dragonborn would receive no further reprieve, however. Krall, once again showing his
own competence had broken the siege of Pontem Viridi by leading a portion of his horde across
the Gelum, several miles upstream of the city. The Dragonborn defenders did not learn of this
crossing until Krall’s vanguard advanced within sight of the southern city’s walls. The Urban
Tribune in charge of the city Garrison launched a brave but ultimately futile sally against Krall’s
bridgehead, and, in the end, upon being presented with the golden dragon standards that Krall
had captured at Narala Daya, a surrender was agreed upon. The Tribune agreed to hand over
every item of significant value within the city to ransom the civilian population. In the end, this
included the great gold and platinum idols of Brunas and Taonga from the city temples.
True to his word, Krall allowed the massive throng of refugees to trudge south unharmed,
bearing with them only the clothes and blankets upon their backs, some meager food, and their
own wailing children. The Urban Tribune, however, in recognition of the shamefulness of the
bargain he had struck, did not accompany them, choosing instead to pass command of the
remaining garrison, and the refugee column, to his Quaestor, and then throw himself upon his
sword.

Krall’s forces were now free to move into the Vale in force. With Pontem Viridi depopulated,
Krall stationed a significant detachment of troops to hold the river crossing, and left many of his
force’s civilian followers behind within the city walls as well. Krall’s previous campaigns, both
in unifying the Orc tribes, and in conquering Thandia, had taught him the lesson that committing
overwhelming force to destroying smaller armies was typically a waste of time that could be
better spent pursuing territorial objectives. He crushed numerous rival orc tribes by committing
his entire force to capturing their home camps while their raiders were away and distracted, and
prevented Murnax from gathering an even larger army by cutting through the Thandian
provinces with such speed that the Dragonborn Garrisons were trapped apart from each other. He
further guaranteed the speed of his horde by seizing supplies from local depots as he marched.

Krall attempted to apply this same logic in the Vale Campaign by detaching 20,000 of his most
vicious, tenacious and least disciplined warriors, under the command of his Sister-in-law, Halg
Brassbane. He sent them west to assault Dralm’s forces, while the rest of his horde marched
southeast. The settlements around Toad Lake, and later, Candle Lake, fell into the hands of the
horde within a few short months. The local Knoma tribes chose to submit and offer tribute, rather
than resist. That such tribute was accepted, and no further violence was done upon these tribes
was and still is considered unusual Orc behavior.

Halg Brassbane’s division of the Horde, however, met with far less easy going. Dralm, having
been far from idle, had met the refugees from the Pontum Viridi at the fortress of Castellum
Viacrux, which lay near the present day town of Crossmarch. Halg had been secretly displease
by Krall’s decision to spare the garrison of the bridge, and allow so many to flee who, while
unarmed at the time, could just as easily, in her opinion, be soon turned into new Soldiers by the
Dragonborn.

Halg’s forces approached the Castellum, hell bent on correcter her warlord’s mistake. Her
suspicions were proven, in her mind, correct when she came upon a vast training camp sprawled
out before the fortress walls. She ordered her forces to charge at the commotion of drilling
soldiers, only for her forces to encounter nothing but illusions and armored scarecrows. Before
they could correct their mistake, Dralm put his own plan into action. Dragonborn, Knoma and
Lesser Naga soldiers, charged out of the woods into the flanks of an Orc formation that had
grown disorganized. As the orcs clumsily wheeled to face the ambush head on, the garrison of
the fortress itself, along with all of those soldiers who had been allowed to leave Viridi nearly
naked, emerged, re-armed, from the Castellum and engaged the orcs on yet another flank. The
orcs began to waver, but their skill and strength was still as great as it had ever been. As the lines
clashed, Dralm himself stepped forward to seal his victory.
He took, from his side, the mysterious codex that he had carried with him on every campaign of
his life. Legends say he opened its pages and began to recite a chant in an ancient, archaic form
of the draconic tongue forgotten to all but the most cloistered of scholars. As his verse
reverberated through every soldier in his command, their hands began to move faster, and their
blades began to cut deeper.

Coupled with his flanking attacks, this would prove too much for Brassbane and her host. The
orcs would lose cohesion, some fleeing, others fighting to the death with mindless abandon. In
the end, no more than half of Halg Brassbane’s original detachment of 20,000 warriors were able
to limp back to Pontum Viridi and seek refuge behind the walls of the southern bank.

The Dragonborn victory had not been without cost. Nearly 3000 of his own host had been slain
or wounded beyond fighting by the ferocity of the desperate, outmaneuvered orcs, and nearly
half of those were nearly irreplaceable members of Dralm’s half strength legions. In this respect,
Dralm’s victory had been great, in and of itself, but the damage he had done to the overall Orc
strength in the region had only been proportional do the damage he had suffered in turn.

Dralm knew that, ultimately, he could not expect to grind Krall’s horde into dust one ambush at a
time. Instead, he would have to play to the weaknesses of his enemy. Word had reached him by
this time of Krall’s southeastern advance, and how the Knoma peoples of that region had bent
their knees before the horde. Some of them had even sent their warriors to accompany Krall’s
host, in pursuit of plunder for their tribes, or vengeance against the dragonborn, who many of
them named as tyrants.

In forging such a partnership, The Trumpeter proved himself to be a most unusual orc. The
tribute he demanded from his new vassals was significant, but carefully calculated to leave the
Knoma with much yet to lose, so that they would be unwilling to defy the warlord openly, lest
they risk the rest. Krall, unlike so many of his brethren, was able to maintain this balance
because he was, as the Orcs call it, “Orog,” an orcish soul in complete mastery over the sanguine
passions of that race, and able to look to the future with clarity to plan their own rises to greater
and greater power.1

To preserve this balance, however, Krall was forced to limit the extent to which his warriors
could forage food and other supplies from the locals, and import the rest from the lands he held
in Thandia. All of these supply convoys could only enter the Vale via the bridge that the horde
now held at Pontum Viridi. Dralm knew that if he captured and held even one end of that bridge,
fortified as it was, Krall would be forced to either turn upon his new allies or allow his own
forces to begin to starve.

1
The origins of the Orcish term “Orog” are historically unclear. Some suggest that it is derived
from the Orc phrase “Owhr Rahw,” meaning “without limits.” Others suggest that it is derived
from the name of the goddess Orlog, as an Orc who is Orog is far more able to embody the
virtues espoused by that same goddess, in defiance of the orc’s traditional patron, Dagaal, than
one who is not.
For his maneuvers against Viridi, Dralm had new resources at his disposal, for although his
precious legions had been bled by the clash at Castellum Viacrux, as word of his victory spred
throughout the eastern half of the vale, several more Knoma tribes found faith in the Dragonborn
cause, and pledged their swords to Dralm’s host. Among these tribes were the Chaura Hai, who
dwelt in the forests near Viacrux, the Harai and the Vasanti, the Kohari, the Jvar and even the
Dagaar, those mad berserkers of the northwestern hills who, rare among humans, worshipped
Dagaal, and sought to prove themselves as warriors by besting their god’s favored children, the
Orcs.

With the addition of these new auxiliaries, Dralm’s host swelled to the greatest size it would
achieve during the campaign. The over 24,000 warriors under his command would prove
indispensable to the plan he would soon execute. He knew that he could not expect to take
Pontum Viridi by starvation any more than the Orcs had been able to initially. It was too easy to
resupply across the bridge itself. The Dransul would have to focus on other objectives. Luckily
for him, with Halg Brassbane’s detachment weakened as it was from the clash at Castellum
Viacrux, and with his own swollen numbers, there was some possibility that he might be able to
take the city by storm.

Dralm, in fact, made sure that word of his new strength, and his advance to the north, would
reach Krall. He made sure, however, made sure to encamp only two of his four legions outside
the gates of the city, and none of his auxiliaries. The rest of his forces remained unseen for
months. For those same months, Krall’s horde marched swiftly northward.

The clever warlord rightly expected a trap. Rather than moving immediately to crush the small
force outside the gate, he hid his host in the nearby forests of Sylviridi to watch for the Dransul’s
next move. Unfortunately for Krall, Dralm expected that Krall would expect a trap, and soon, the
Knoma scouts, who knew the region well, located Krall’s Horde, even hidden as it was.

It was at this point that Dralm began his assault, using only his two remaining Dragonborn
legions, as well as his lesser Naga mercenaries. The suddenness of the attack, which struck an
orcish force that was hardly ready for an ambush, waiting, as they were to deliver an ambush of
their own, inflicted heavy losses rapidly.

Krall, to his credit, wasted no time rallying his forces for a counterattack, which would likely
have overwhelmed Dralm’s small attack force, but this had only been the first step in the
Dransul’s strategy. Dralm had instructed the many spellcasters in his host to screen the flanks of
his legions. The spearheads that Krall intended to use to encircle and destroy his foe were instead
met with walls of fire and water, which delayed they attack for crucial minutes.

Though the legions who had not fought long for Dralm chafed at the perceived insult to the
strength of their blades and breath, their sense of duty prevailed. They obeyed the orders of the
commander who had already won them the field at Viacrux. With the trust of his forces rightly
placed, Dralm was free to appropriate the lessons had learned as a mere Tribune in service to his
predecessor at the head of the Fulminax, the notable incompetent, Legate Thalfurus, during the
Dragonborn’s disastrous Bloodtalon war. Readers may recall from prior volumes the elvish
Archwizard Bloodtalon Daenwaer and his warrior-bride, Elder Sister Shadeflower Lefwydd, who
featured so prominently in the unfortunate early days of Dralm’s career. Just as the considerable
talents of the elvish Magi had held the advancing legions at bay and bled them dearly in the
process, so too did the equally considerable talents of the Dragonborn Magi hinder and toll host
of Krall.2

Once the orcs were so occupied, over ten thousand Knoma auxiliaries swept onto the western
flank of Krall’s army, quickly overwhelming the attack wing closest to them and cutting brutally
into the orcish main body.

It was at that point that Krall threw his emergency reserve into a desperate rearguard action, and
sounded a full retreat as soon as he began to realize what was happening. The Orc’s quick
thinking likely saved his army, his career, and his life. His losses are remembered as being
between 10,000 and 20,000. Devastating, but not crippling. Dralm’s losses were estimated at
being between 2,000 and 3,000, a better ratio than he had managed at Viacrux, blunted
somewhat by the fact that they had been disproportionately from among his precious legions, the
lucky 13th giving the most blood of all. .

Krall, having managed to preserve his army, still outnumbered Dralm significantly, and Dralm
knew that he could not hold a siege of Pontum Viridi any longer, in the face of a likely
counterattack. The colder months were beginning to set in, and so the Dransul withdrew his host
to winter quarters at Castellum Viacrux, while Krall relieved the city of Pontum VIridi, and
settled his own army there to wait out the cold. While snowed in at the bridge city, Krall
chastised Halg Brassbane for her failure to attack the small force of only about 4,000 that had
lingered outside her walls during the ambush several miles south, and relieved her of her
command. Halg, unwilling to public admit that she feared another trap, and did not have the
intelligence to verify that the trap had not been meant for her in the first place, responded by
mocking Krall for falling into Dralm’s trap in the Sylviridi forest, and declared him unfit to lead
the horde. Krall accepted her challenge, and, as was customary, killed her by the light of the next
full moon.

During the long winter, food in Castellum Viacrux did not run out. Still, with supplies, between
the army and the refugees, provisions during the season were extremely meager. Krall, likewise,
recognized the ultimate folly of keeping his army leashed to a supply line that would always
have to pass through the chokepoint of Pontem VIridi. Thusly, to preserve his momentum and
protect the refugees in his care, Dralm detached the Legio Fulminax from his command, and
entrusted it to his daughter, Vectra Verangthi. The force was sent to escort the refugees deeper
into the western hills, where they might have the best chance of evading Krall until enough food
could be gathered to attempt a civilian desert crossing back to Zar on such a massive scale.
Meanwhile, Dralm’s army, to avoid an unwise confrontation, cut south and then east across the

2
Some Dragonlore scholars are so bold as to say that Dralm recieved this strategy in a vision the night before the
battle--presumably the message of the historian-vexing Karig Verang’Shai. Supporters of this theory point to
missives between the magi, grumbling about the rapid shift in plans and positioning that forced them to reorganize
themselves on the eve of battle rather than resting. But this theory is purely speculative. Despite our best efforts,
without the remains of Dralm Verangthi there is simply no way to know what went through his mind the night
before this fateful day.
arid regions of the vale, intent to reach the eastern communities who had betrayed the Imperium
by supporting Krall’s invasion.

Krall, at the same time, drove southwest. As he passed through the territory of the tribes
supporting Dralm, he felt far less need to restrict his warriors in pillaging whatever supplies they
required. Eventually, he reached the Thorny gates at the edge of the Dragonsands, and seized
them from the dragonborn garrison by assault, so impatient was he to have the passage fall into
his hands. Having done so, Krall than controlled all access, save through elven lands, to the vale.
He left behind a small Garrison, just strong enough to control civilian traffic, or force a larger
force to attack on Krall’s terms, and then departed east in pursuit of the Dransul.

Meanwhile, Dralm has not been idle. He had seized the spring stores of the tribes along Toad and
Candle lakes, and was left with enough to allow the refugee column to survive their trip across
the desert, and enough besides to sustain his campaign till the next season’s harvest. He marched
west in the hopes of re-uniting with his daughter’s force, and seeing the innocents off, before
planning his next move against Krall, whose army, while still much larger, did not seem as
insurmountable as once it did. As he moved west, however, through what is now the district of
Gupha, disaster struck his forces.

The terrain of the Gupha district was chosen for its hills and woods that might obscure his
movement from the enemy. This same factor, however, worked against Dralm as his Knoma
allies, who constituted the majority of his host, began to disperse into the countryside at a
shocking speed. Word had arrived, he would later learn, that while raiding in the western tribal
lands, Krall had not completely abandoned restraint. He had made sure that, while supplies were
seized, those knoma not fit for war were taken alive. Krall had then sent some unknown
messenger to the Knoma amongst Dralm’s host, telling them that, so long as the opposed Krall
no further, their loved ones would be freed at the close of the campaign. Krall’s reputation of
fidelity to those who submitted, and brutality to those who did not, ultimately had prevailed.

Left with only three badly understrength legions, along with his lesser Naga, Dralm then learned
that Krall’s force was only days away, and was fast approaching in pursuit of a killing stroke that
would end the campaign. If Dralm fled into the wilderness and attempted to escape Krall, he
would likely be indisposed for many months, and the refugee throng with his daughter, which
had steadily grown as more and more of the dragonborn civilians in the vale sought to abandon
the region, would likely starve or be trapped. Instead, Dralm resolved to stand.

First, and in spite of the betrayal of the Knoma, the Dransul entrusted most of the food stockpile
to the Lesser Naga under his command, and ordered them to slip away to find his daughter and
the refugees. He calculated that the mercenaries would be unwilling to stake their own lives on a
suicide mission, and would not abscond with the stockpile because their own homes lay beyond
the orc-held thorny gate. Without the help of his daughter Vectra and the Legio Fulminax, they
would have little chance of ever seeing their families again.

That done, he drew his army up for battle at the foot of the southern hills in the present day
Gupha district, known then as the Collis Litore. As predicted, Krall’s host arrived and began its
typical pattern of attack, a strong center line and encircling spearheads. Dralm allowed his forces
to engage only briefly, always fleeing deeper into the rough terrain of the mountains whenever a
flanking attack seemed likely.

The more the Dragonborn fell back, the stronger their position became. Escape, however, also
grew more and more remote a possibility. Hemmed in by their own natural fortress, Dralm and
his legionaries fought bitterly for weeks, expending every last scrap of strength, ammunition and
magic they had at their disposal. The orcish assaults pressed in, each preceded with a wave of the
Dragonborn’s own pila, looted from the bodies of the legionaries lost at Narala Daya, and later,
copied by the orcs own blacksmiths. In spite of this innovation, the Orcs paid for their victory in
blood. Discipline broke down as champions and chieftains each struggled for the chance to be
the one who cut the Dransul down.

In the end, that honor went to Krall himself, who charged into battle, fearing the loss of face if
one of his other champions struck that glorious blow. His own legendary greataxe, Redsong, met
the edge of Lex Invicta. The Dransul dealt the Warlord a scar that he carried with him even
beyond death, and in turn, the Warlord Took the Dransul’s life.3

3
Gossip and Rumor are rambunctious twins best left to play in patrician halls and in the Senate. However, I would
be remiss if I did not recount for posterity the now famous final moments of Dralm Verangthi. Although it must be
noted that the scene has no place in the factual record, the tale has become so ingrained in Dragonborn culture that it
must be recounted.

It is said that after receiving his fatal wound, towered over by an honorable and powerful opponent, Dralm
recognized his time had ended. Rather than run in the hopes of seeking a miracle of divine magic, and all but surely
die with a dishonorable wound to the back, Dralm motioned for a moment. Krall, either baffled or in complete
understanding, stayed his blade from a decapitating strike. With blood falling from his mouth, Dralm scribed some
unintelligible runes in the dirt, chanting or singing some tune, and pulled out a short sword. Krall—not knowing the
ways of the Dragonborn, started. But Dralm motioned for calm. Dralm took the blade and inscribed on his head a
rune now famous as “The Dragonmark.” The mark glowed, as did the knife, and as Dralm’s voice reached a
shouting crescendo, Krall swung as Dralm thrust his blade into his own abdomen. Dralm died, inscribing upon
himself the mark now synonymous with failure. Although in popular opinion and objective historical fact, Dralm
was far from any kind of failure.

As noted, this tale has no support in historical fact—although many a modern and ancient telling of the tale recount
it. Why would Krall allow such a thing to occur? Why would Dralm take so much time and elaborate preparation in
the middle of the field of battle for what was ultimately a suicide? The matter is preposterous, but that has not kept it
from embedding itself in the popular imagination.

That said, as a final note, I must admit that I cannot help but be taken by the tale as well. The concept of one who
had achieved so much labeling himself a failure features a genuine nature humility unknown by those of our time.
By delving into the most obscure of archives, I have managed to find a transcription of Dralm’s final words—
presumably to Krall. The markings of so archaic of a form, however, that no magic or mundane method known to
me or the Order has been able to translate it. For the purposes of preservation, I relay it here:

I, who had climbed I, who had climbed

I, who had strived I, who had strived
kannot fail Cannot now fail
lill not be deprived Will not be deprived

if my country Of my country
if my home Of my home
Most of his three remaining legions, Miridium, Occidentalus and Incendium, died along with
him, with a scant few managing to vanish into the rocky mountainsides. In the end, though,
Dralm’s gambit paid off. He had guessed the character of his Lesser Naga truly, and they did
indeed, rendezvous with Vectra. Together, they assaulted the Thorn Gate, and fled, civilians in
tow, back across the desert towards Zar.

The Fate of Dralm’s remains, and the remains of that legendary font of power, the Codex of
Dragon Chants, become uncertain here. Some claim that a minute handful surviving members of
Dralm’s own Lucky 13th followed up their defiance with a daring Night Raid that recovered that
Dransul’s body and codex. Others say that Krall kept the body as a trophy, and tore the codex
into sections which were given to his chieftains to remind them who was still the strongest.
Others still suggest that Dralm’s body was recovered when, several decades later, after Krall had
fallen in combat against the god Dagaal, when the Dragonborn Tyrant Sulzaris temporarily re-
conquered the Vale from the orc splinter faction that held it, it was that same Tyrant who
recovered the Dransul’s body and codex from where it had fallen.

Whichever of these stories are true, and to which extents, cannot be proven, for I have perused
all the ancient knowledge of the order, as well as of Zar, and even paid a visit to the forbidden
historical collection of the powerful young black dragon called Corvis, and seen no answer
which seems to outshine the rest. I have seen variations of all these stories, however, that suggest
that the Dransul was eventually buried in a pyramid of Dragonborn construction in the western

My kith, my kin My kith, my kin

Do not disown Do not disown

crall, phou art worthy Krall, thou art worthy

crall, phou art strong Krall, thou art strong
But even thee shall be unto dust But even thee shall be unto dust
‘re your beard grow long ‘Ere your beard grow long

My word, my bond My word, my bond

My word, my law My word, my law
My work is not finished My work is not finished
I will accept no draw I will accept no draw

Harken, you mighty Harken, you mighty

Harken, thine heart Harken, thine heart
his world I protect This world I protect
h ough it, I depart Though it I depart

Remember, my name Remember my name

Remember, my pact Remember my pact
Ma GiDS I HamaR gHyy MY GODS, I HONOR THEE
lIgH gHIS, Me pImAk Acc WITH THIS, MY FINAL ACT

What in the name of the book where you doing, forefather? I

have such questions…
vale. Some say that his few surviving soldiers placed him in an existing tomb so that his defiant
vigil over the province could stand eternal. Others suggest that the tyrant Sulzaris was
responsible for his internment, for as the local warbands that would eventually coalesce into the
Delian Order were already harrying Sulzaris’s forces, he attempted on many occasions to invoke
the heroic legacy of Dralm to bolster morale.

Some, finally, say that it was actually Krall who had placed Dralm’s remains in the tomb as a
gesture of respect to a worthy foe, for, for the rest of his life, as he warred with great success
against Elves, Dwarves, Dragons, Giants and fellow Orcs, Krall would say that he had learned of
war from three great teachers. The first was Dagaal, who’s passion in battle inspired all of Orc
kind. The second was his mother, who had first taught him how to hold an axe. The third had
been Dralm Verangthi, who’s lessons Krall had learned the hard way.

The truth of these accounts, we will likely never know, nor are we likely to ever know the
whereabouts of the Tome and Blade of the Dransul, the whereabouts of which quickly become
blurred after Dralm’s last stand. Of this though, we can be certain; although Krall the Trumpeter
ultimately won his war for the Vale, and would go on to lead his armies for many decades of
unbroken victories, and go down in history as one of the five greatest leaders Orc-kind would
ever know, he would never, for all the years he would live, march any army into the sands of the
Dragonborn.