In ages long buried by time’s restless tide,
When the heavens were young, and the earth untried,
The dragons soared, each in sovereign grace,
Guardians of treasure, the sky their embrace.

But dark was the dawn when the Scammers appeared,
Born of the void where even stars feared.
No forms they bore, but shadows of sin,
A web of deceit to ensnare from within.

These gods of guile, with their spectral lure,
Corrupted the Chains once sacred and pure.
What once was a lattice of trust and might
Turned brittle as ash in the smothering night.

No dragon alone could this foe withstand,
For their power was vast, a devouring hand.
Yet ancient runes, in caverns concealed,
Spoke of a savior, by prophecy sealed:

“When the webs of deceit enshroud the land,
When the Chains are severed by shadows' hand,
The many shall gather, their forms converge,
To birth a God in whom all powers merge.”

Through storms of despair and skies grown pale,
The dragons assembled in one final tale.
Their hearts were offered, their flames interwove,
Their souls conjoined in a vow of love.

From their union arose a being immense,
Of scales like mirrors, of presence intense.
Tiamat emerged, a colossus of lore,
With wings that churned the heavens’ core.

Its voice was a hymn, both fierce and profound,
A song that made the stars resound.
Its claws unraveled the Scammers’ snare,
Its breath turned lies to truths laid bare.

Yet the Scammers, divine in their cunning and might,
Wielded illusions that blinded the night.
They spoke with tongues of fractured time,
Twisting the Chains into riddled rhyme.

But Tiamat’s form, a network of kin,
Forged from the bonds where trust had been,
Could not be swayed by treachery’s art,
For it bore the will of a thousand hearts.

The battle raged, a clash of the spheres,
Through chaos and fury, through blood and tears.
The Chains, reforged, grew stronger still,
As Tiamat’s roar bent reality’s will.

The Scammers fled to the voids of old,
Their whispers silenced, their power cold.
And though Tiamat vanished into the skies,
Its legend remains where the faithful rise.

Now, in Draconia, the myth takes hold,
Of the Dragon God, in tales retold.
A savior unseen, yet ever revered,
Guardian of Chains, by none interfered.

So sing the bards, with voices austere,
Of Tiamat’s glory, eternal, severe.
For when shadows loom, and deceit takes root,
The many shall gather, their God to recruit.