Dragon’s Folly was not often a destination sought by travelers. It was a more deadly than rewarding place, even for curious and foolhardy adventurers. Many pilgrims had travelled to the valley immediately following the Alerarian Navy’s defeat of Arztschlange the Eternal, hardy explorers, craftsmen and everything in between. All lured deep into the Mountains of Dawn by the promise of ancient dragon’s bones.

Instead of fortune, far too many found nothing but death. The rumors spread even more quickly that the news of Arztschlange’s demise. Even in death, it was said, the plague dragon’s wrath was both potent and terrible. Travel to Dragon’s Folly dropped off as quickly as it had started, leaving the plague dragon peacefully to his eternal slumber.

Even so, there was nothing to deter a determined explorer from travelling to the valley, as William had discovered. Half a dozen Alerarian merchants had given him the same advice, that it was would be his own folly to pursue his quest. But William had remained steadfast in his determination and the merchants had gladly accepted coin from someone they already considered a dead man.

It had taken time to put this excursion together. Two months simply scouring the Keeper’s library for the necessary components to the ritual, another two to find suitable companions for the endeavor, then another two to gather what he needed and to make the trek to his destination. But time and effort meant nothing to William as long as it brought his goals closer to hand. Now, finally, after half a year, the revenant sat atop the final ridge, looking down into Dragon’s Folly with a studious eye and a palpable air of excitement.

Foul winds rose from the valley to carry the scent of corruption all the way up to William’s refuge. Even this far from the basin, the corruption lingered around him, subtly pressing in from all sides, seeking to draw him down into its unwholesome embrace. A thick, sulfurous haze coated everything down in the valley, not quite thick enough to be mist, but still thick enough to flow around the stony terrain within it.

It wouldn’t be pleasant dipping himself into that sea of pestilence, but the shadow of great Arztschlange beckoned him, even now, from deep within the valley. The beast was barely more than a skeletal frame at this point, but William had firsthand knowledge of how truly ferocious an elder dragon could be and he had no doubt that Arztschlange had been a true nightmare. But it wasn’t the ancient bones that drew William here with such determination. It was the haze, and Arztschlange’s function as the source of it, that truly called to him.

Though it was cloying an unpleasant, William didn’t fear the dragon’s corruption. Any infection that got into him would quickly be burned clean by his regenerative capabilities, a function of the essence of creation within him reverting him to his basic state. Staying alive in that mire wasn’t William’s problem, it was keeping the other two members of his party alive long enough to enact the ritual that worried him.

William couldn’t use magic himself, perk of another of the major essences which had been wound into the fabric of his being. Unfortunately, his current prey could only be accessed through a portal generated in a place with a sympathetic link. Since he was currently in pursuit of the so-called Horseman of Pestilence, William had found no better place that Dragon’s Folly in which to conduct the opening of ways.