The Little Dragon

No person in recent history has shaped the world more profoundly than the one now known as the Little Dragon - once Antoine the Fair, King of Carovingia. His coronation marked the end of centuries of civil war, uniting the fractured factions of Carovingia under a single, universally accepted ruler. His reign began as a golden age for the nation - but one with a terrible secret at its heart.

For Antoine the Fair was the chosen vessel of an eldritch power known as Leviathan, and he was building its cult in secret.

In 1803, that cult stepped from the shadows, and Antoine revealed himself as their leader: the Little Dragon, scion of Leviathan. He led the Cult of the Leviathan through a series of wars that devastated Elbid, sacrificing countless lives in battle and on blood-soaked altars. The changes he wrought were not only political but metaphysical - permanent shifts in the fabric of reality that may yet unravel the world, even though he and the cult were ultimately defeated.

Early Life

Antoine was born in exile. The nation of Carovingia had been locked in a series of civil wars for nearly two hundred years. These conflicts were part of the larger Church Wars - internecine struggles that pitted the established Church against reformers (or heretics, depending on one's point of view).

Carovingia was the site of the war’s bloodiest battles. Though Antoine's royal line had secured its share of victories during the conflicts, it was ultimately driven from the country in 1760. By the time of Antoine's birth, the family had taken refuge in Pallama, the heart of The Church.

Meanwhile, the coalition that had driven the royal family into exile soon fractured. Chaos and mayhem reigned across Carovingia, and by the time Antoine was a teenager, a growing movement to restore the monarchy and end the bloodshed had begun to gather momentum.

Antoine's father died in 1770, leaving the young prince to chart his own course. Seeking to distance himself from the increasingly unpopular Church, he moved his household to Waldstätte and publicly declared his support for religious freedom.

He was charming and eloquent, a student of philosophy and a natural leader. Even at the age of twelve, he had begun forging connections with the various factions fighting over the shattered remnants of Carovingia. With poise far beyond his years, he built support for a glorious reunification: an end to the wars, and a new kingdom founded on the principle of freedom of worship - so long as that worship was directed to God in Heaven.

A Promise of Peace

It took years, but Antoine succeeded in forging his new alliance. By 1782, the agreements were signed, and the restoration of the monarchy was imminent. Tensions remained high - but after generations of war, the people were exhausted, desperate for something new.

Copies of Antoine's speeches were posted throughout the kingdom, and those who heard him speak in person were struck by his presence. Many would later say it was the first time they truly felt hope for their nation.

The coronation was set for 1783, on Prince Antoine's twenty-first birthday. But not everyone welcomed the coming reunification.

Shortly after Wintermas in 1782, an assassin infiltrated Antoine's residence in Waldstätte and stabbed the young prince with a poisoned blade. His guards killed the attacker moments later, but the damage was done. Prince Antoine the Fair lay dead, and with him, the fragile hope of a peaceful reunification.

His advisors kept the murder secret as they deliberated what to do. The thought of losing everything they had built - everything they had dared to believe in - was unbearable. And so, they turned to a forbidden path, one that offered a glimmer of hope, but at a terrible risk.

The Rites of Resurrection

When a soul leaves the body, it passes into Beyond. The Church teaches that the faithful are drawn into Heaven, where they join the Divine Choir - eternally singing praise and shielded from the dark, unknowable, and eldritch entities that dwell in Beyond. But there have always been those who seek to recall a soul from that realm - and those willing to do so, for a price.

Resurrection is a dangerous and uncertain process, forbidden by both Church and secular law. The faithful should not be pulled from the peace of Heaven, and those who have not ascended may have been claimed - and changed - by other powers. On rare occasions, a swift resurrection may retrieve a soul before it is altered. But the risk of corruption is immense.

Prince Antoine’s advisors chose to take that risk. It remains unknown who they turned to for the Rites of Resurrection - though many suspect the Grüber Clinic, none can prove it.

But wherever the rites were performed, they succeeded. The soul of Prince Antoine the Fair was drawn back from Beyond. And he rose again.

King Antoine the Fair, Third of His Name

To all appearances, the Rites had succeeded completely. Antoine rose and spoke as himself. He did not become a ravening monster, tearing through the chamber in madness - a distinct possibility. He did not rot, nor speak in tongues that summoned visions and bleeding eyes. None of the horrors told in stories of failed resurrections came to pass. The prince's advisors exhaled in cautious relief: they had gambled with the soul of a king, and believed they had won.

A few months later, Antoine was crowned King of Carovingia. His coronation speech moved listeners to tears. His return was celebrated across the realm, and he remained true to his promises - championing freedom of religion, and ushering in an era of peace and prosperity. After nearly two centuries of civil war, Carovingia began to heal.

But in secret, King Antoine was crafting the nation's ruin.

When his soul left his body, it encountered an entity vast and unfathomable: the eldritch being known as Leviathan. It swallowed him - and saw his potential. Leviathan knew that this soul would be called back to the world, and that once returned, it would sit in a place of power. So the entity acted. It altered the soul of Antoine the Fair, filling him with visions of glory, and placed within him a new heart - an engine of alien purpose, forged in the deep: the heart of a dragon.

When the Rites of Resurrection brought him back, it was not truly Antoine the Fair who returned - it was the Little Dragon, scion of Leviathan.

The Little Dragon was patient. He wore the prince's memories, his charm, and his body. And he was subtle. Leviathan had granted him power and knowledge far beyond what the prince had ever possessed. He knew the names of Leviathan's agents across the world, and how to find those who would serve in exchange for power.

For twenty years, he moved in secret, corrupting the power structures of Carovingia from within. One by one, he replaced key individuals with loyal agents of the Cult. His most dangerous opponents were removed or discredited. The advisors who had brought him back - who might have recognized the change - did not survive beyond his fifth year on the throne.

None suspected what he truly was.

Rise of the Dragon

In 1803, the time for concealment ended.

In a speech delivered to his loyal followers, the Little Dragon cast aside the mask of Antoine the Fair and revealed his true self. He declared the Cult of the Leviathan to be both church and state - the new order of Carovingia. Across the kingdom, the people were given a choice: serve as soldiers, or serve as sacrifices.

Many chose the former. The desperate, the fearful, the fanatical - all swelled the Cult's ranks. The rest were offered up on altars of stone and flame, their deaths fueling the magic of the Cult's priests. With this power, they unleashed curses of unimaginable scale upon the nations they planned to conquer.

Plagues preceded the armies. The dead did not rest, but rose again to join the Cult's legions. Eldritch beasts were torn into the world through the sacrifice of hundreds, terrible creatures whose presence warped the land itself. The Cult marched across Elbid like a storm made flesh, leaving devastation in its wake. In the first year, they seemed unstoppable.

But momentum faded. By the end of that first year, the Cult's advance had slowed. Their powers demanded constant sacrifices, and the shock of their emergence no longer gave them an edge. Refugees fled before them, cities emptied, and resources grew scarce. Sacrifices had to be rationed.

Then The Empire of Albion intervened.

Construct armies made landfall on the shores of Elbid, bringing new weapons and new hope. The Cult, while still formidable, was no longer invincible. The Empire's mages had forged trade with The Sidhe Courts, acquiring potent artifacts capable of banishing the monsters drawn from Beyond. Construct legions clashed with the undead, and both trampled the living beneath their feet.

For nearly a decade, the continent was consumed by war. Neither side could gain the upper hand. The stalemate drifted like a storm cloud across the land - a war of attrition that would grind all the world to dust.

The Calamity in Kemet

Both sides knew there were powers in the world that could tip the balance.

Foremost among them was Kemet, the oldest of nations, ruled by The Pharaoh Undying - the eldest of the Living Gods of Lemuria. Should he enter the war, it was likely that the other Lemurian nations would follow. Though The Church had long denounced the Living Gods as evil and incompatible with the worship of God in Heaven, desperate times demanded desperate alliances. Ambassadors from The Empire of Albion pleaded with the Pharaoh for aid against the Cult - and he listened. For the sake of the world, he seemed prepared to act.

But the Little Dragon knew this too. And he acted first.

In 1813, the Cult of the Leviathan performed its greatest ritual - and its greatest atrocity. Calling upon the full power of Leviathan, they struck at The Pharaoh Undying. The Living God was slain, and with him, all who worshipped him - some five million souls extinguished in a single, catastrophic moment.

Kemet became a tomb.

The devastation sent shockwaves across Lemuria. The surviving Living Gods saw their own future in the ash of Kemet and the silence of its temples. In response, they set aside centuries of isolation and tradition. They formed The Mu Confederation - a temporary alliance at first, born of fear and fury, but one that would endure.

Their armies joined with the Empire's, bringing with them strange and ancient magics to challenge the Cult's eldritch power. Two years later, the Confederation called down a stone from the heavens - vast, burning, divine.

It struck Carovingia's capital, annihilating all within. The Little Dragon died in the fire.

Or so it is believed.