Story
Rovann the hunter had never believed in forbidden valleys or dragon-guarded secrets. To him, every tale was just another excuse for old men to keep others from finding treasure. Yet when he found the forgotten trail across the Veythar Peaks, he pressed on, his bow slung over his shoulder and greed burning in his chest.
The roar of the Waterwall nearly drowned his thoughts. He waded into the spray, forcing himself through the cold torrent until he stumbled out the other side. Then he froze.
Before him spread a world out of time. Vast trees towered like living pillars, their crowns shrouded in mist. Herds of horned giants moved across emerald meadows. Great-winged lizards soared above the canopy, screeching with voices that rattled the air. Swamps steamed with hidden life, and a warm wind carried the scent of flowers and volcanic stone. It was beauty beyond measure, raw and untamed.
Then the sky darkened. From the mountainside unfurled a figure of endless wings and bronze scales that glowed with firelight. Veyrath the Bronze-Scaled descended, each beat of his wings stirring storms in the valley below.
Rovann’s awe turned to terror. He turned and ran back toward the curtain of water, slipping on moss and stone. But before he reached it, the air itself ignited. A roar split the valley, not of beast but of judgment. Flames engulfed him, white-hot and merciless, and in a moment he was gone.
The jungle grew quiet again. The herds moved on, untroubled. Above, the dragon circled once, then settled again upon his perch, watching over the Shrouded Cradle as he always had.

Description

The valley is known only among the elder dragons as Kaelthir, the Shrouded Cradle. No maps show it, no tales are openly told, for the dragons guard it not only with their claws but with silence. It lies high in the Veythar Peaks, a mountain ring said to be older than the first empires of men. The only entrance is the thunderous Waterwall Falls, a roaring white veil that spills from the cliffs like a divine curtain, sealing the cradle within.

Inside, warmth rises from the dormant fire-mountain Mount Thazil, its slopes dotted with steaming pools and geysers. The heat makes the jungle lush even in winter, filling the air with mists that mingle with the cries of unseen beasts. Vast ferns, towering cycads, and swamps thick with lilies provide shelter for creatures long vanished elsewhere, dinosaurs from a time long forgotten. Herds of giant horned herbivores thunder across the meadows, while sharp-toothed predators prowl the shadows, and the skies are split by the wings of great pterosaurs.

The Guardians of Kaelthir

Over all this watch the dragons who chose to stay instead of ascending to godhood. The elder Veyrath the Bronze-Scaled circles the skies above the Waterwall, ever-watchful of intruders. Seryndral the Verdant curls among the steaming pools, her scales green as new leaves, singing to the young beasts in tones of thunder. Maelkhur the Black Flame keeps to the caverns under Mount Thazil, his fire lending warmth to the valley. They are not alone, smaller kin and half-grown wyrms remain as well, a scattered host of guardians.

The gods of the dragon pantheon bless Kaelthir, and the dragons here are considered holy keepers of a living relic. To disturb this place would be to invoke divine wrath. Mortals who stumble close by accident are often turned back by storms, mists, or even by dreams sent from the gods themselves. Few believe the stories of such a paradise of monsters. Fewer still dare speak the name Kaelthir aloud.

The valley endures as an untouched sanctuary, a place where time itself has curled inward, and the children of the first age still walk under the shadow of their elder kin.

The outside world

Some clues about the valley has escaped. Some pieces of the puzzle has reached the outside:

The Song of the Waterwall

Travelers in the Veythar Peaks sometimes claim that when the moon is high and the winds are still, the roar of Waterwall Falls changes to a deep, mournful song. Old herders say it is the voice of Veyrath the Bronze-Scaled, singing to keep the world away from Kaelthir. Those who linger too long listening are said to vanish, swept into dreams from which they never wake.

The Scale in the Market of Estorio Ventura

A story told in the trade city of Estorio Ventura speaks of a merchant who once sold a dragon scale as wide as a man’s shield. He claimed it fell from the sky during a storm near the Waterwall. No buyer dared keep it, fearing the wrath of its owner, so the scale was offered as tribute to the temple of the dragon god Skaridra, the Iron Flame. When thieves later broke into the temple, they found the chamber where the scale had been kept burned black, though no flame had touched the rest of the shrine.

The Lost Expedition of Calvros

Generations ago, a lord named Calvros of Myrth raised a company of explorers to cross the Veythar Peaks, seeking a hidden valley where gold and beasts of legend dwelt. None returned. Months later, a shepherd found Calvros’s helm in a mountain stream. It was split neatly in two, as though by the strike of a claw larger than any man’s body. Since then, adventurers speak of the “Calvros Curse” whenever talk of Kaelthir arises.

The Priestess’s Vision

In the temple of Myrrhall, the Black Eye, a priestess once fell into a trance during midsummer rites. She spoke of a valley where dragons walked beside titans of the earth, and where the gods themselves smiled upon the living. She begged her order to never seek it, for she saw fire and ruin awaiting any mortal who tried. Her words became a holy warning, carved into the temple stones: “The cradle is not for us.”

Possible Secrets

The Broken Covenant

Some whisper that Kaelthir was not meant to be sealed. Long ago, dragons promised to share the valley with mortals, but when greed and bloodshed followed, the gods commanded the Waterwall to fall and sealed it away forever.

The Forgotten Ascended

Not all the guardians chose to remain behind willingly. One dragon is said to have been cursed, chained in spirit to Kaelthir as punishment for betraying the pantheon. It still lurks in the shadows, bitter and waiting.

The Blood of the Cradle

The steaming pools of Kaelthir sometimes glow faintly at night. The dragons claim this is the blood of the valley itself, and to drink it grants visions of the first world. Some say it also twists mortals into beasts if they linger too long.

The Missing Expedition

Though most tales of intruders end in ash, there are whispers of one band of mortals who survived. They vanished into the valley and never returned. Some believe their descendants still live within, hidden among the swamps, forever changed.

The Cave

There is a cave, which takes the intrepid explorer into the valley through a "back door", unknown to the dragons. Of course, the dragons still guard the herds.

Adventure Hooks

The Scale in the Marketplace

A bronze dragon scale larger than a shield turns up in a coastal bazaar. The party is hired to trace its origin, leading them into the mountains where the Waterwall roars.

The Vanished Cartographer

A famed explorer drew half a map before disappearing into the Veythar Peaks. His patron offers a fortune to anyone who can recover his notes, last seen near the roaring waterfall.

The Cursed Relic

A sword of strange bone, heavy with heat, is found in a noble’s tomb. Scholars found engravings suggesting it was crafted in Kaelthir. The noble’s heirs now ask for its origin to be verified, but the dragons do not tolerate trespass.

The Black Flame’s Bargain

Maelkhur the Black Flame, one of the guardian dragons, reaches out through dreams to a character. He offers a task outside the valley in exchange for secret knowledge, but the task may pit the party against other dragons.

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