The Doom of Volantis
2nd of Fourth Moon, 420 AC
In the Fourth Moon of 420 AC, a catastrophe of unparalleled magnitude befell the ancient Free City of Volantis, an event that would be etched in the annals of history as the Doom of Volantis. It was a day when the heavens themselves seemed to unleash their fury upon the earth, a calamity so dire that it would forever alter the course of the known world.
The day had dawned like any other in Volantis, the First Daughter of Valyria, with its bustling markets, towering temples, and the majestic Black Wall standing as a testament to its Valyrian heritage. But as the sun reached its zenith, the Realm changed. Without warning, the ground trembled with such ferocity that it seemed as though the very bones of the earth were breaking. Volcanoes, long thought dormant, awakened in a symphony of destruction, spewing fire and ash into the sky, turning day into night.
And then came the fire. A conflagration that engulfed the city, as if the very breath of dragons was unleashed upon Volantis. Buildings, once symbols of the city's grandeur, were consumed by flames, their stones cracking and collapsing under the heat. The Rhoyne hissed and steamed as burning debris fell into its waters, and the great Long Bridge, adorned with its countless temples and palaces, became a pathway to hell itself. It's thought that Triarch Parquello Vaelaros was lost in one of these very fires.
Survivors on the outskirts spoke of the horror with eyes wide with fear. They told tales of massive beasts roaring within the smoke and ruin, shadows that moved within the flames, convincing many that the dragons, those legendary creatures of old, had returned to the world to wreak vengeance upon the hubris of men. The sky, they said, was a canvas of black and red, painted with the fury of the gods.
In the aftermath, a thick, ominous smog settled over the remains of Volantis, a perpetual shroud that seemed to swallow whole any who dared to venture into the cursed city. Ships that sailed into the smog in search of survivors or plunder returned empty, if they returned at all, their crews mysteriously vanished.
The Doom claimed over half a million souls, leaving a city that had stood for millennia as naught but a tomb, a whispered warning of the power of nature's wrath. The refugees, those who had lost everything to the fire and the ash, fled northward, seeking refuge in the city of Selhorys. It was there that Belicho, the commander of the Volantine military, took upon himself the heavy mantle of leadership, rallying the survivors and forging a new beginning for the people of Volantis.
Under Belicho's rule, Selhorys became the heart of the newly proclaimed Freehold of Volantis, a nation born from the ashes of disaster, its people united by their shared loss and their determination to rebuild. Yet, even as they looked to the future, the memory of the Doom lingered, a ghostly pall that hung over their every endeavor, a somber reminder of the fragility of civilization and the indomitable power of the natural world.
Thus, the Doom of Volantis passed into legend almost immediately, a tale of hubris and horror, of loss and rebirth, a stark testament to the inexorable cycle of destruction and renewal that defines the saga of humanity.
The Doom of Volantis was a cataclysm of an unspecified nature that caused the collapse of the Free City of Volantis. On the day of the event, every hill for a hundred miles exploded, filling the air with ash and smoke and fire. Earthquakes destroyed palaces, temples, and towns, while lakes boiled or turned to acid. Anyone from Volantis that survived, fled to the neighboring cities of Volon Therys and Selhorys. Sailors from Lys were the first to discover the Doom, which at that time had turned the massive city into a dark cloud of fog, which never seemed to dissipate. Maesters are unsure of what caused this tragedy, as anyone who has entered the city, has not returned alive, 420 AC.
Comments