In the year 1337, amid political strife and shifting alliances across Europe, an unusual and secretive order was founded under the patronage of King Edward III of England: the Order of the Dragonmeisters.
Unlike the more traditional knightly orders formed for chivalric or military purposes, this order was born out of a mystical alliance—one that joined humankind with the most ancient and powerful beings in the natural world: dragons. Legend holds that Edward, during his early campaigns, was guided to a hidden vale in the Welsh mountains, where a conclave of elder dragons dwelled. There, he forged a pact with these creatures, not for conquest, but for harmony.
The dragons, long attuned to the elemental forces of the earth, agreed to lend their magic to help regulate nature itself. Through ritual and bond, the Dragonmeisters—those few humans trained to communicate and collaborate with the dragons—began to influence weather patterns across the British Isles. Crops once withered by frost or drowned by untimely rains began to flourish. Seasonal floods ebbed more gently. Storms, though never fully tamed, grew less erratic. These wonders were not without cost; each dragon required respect, offerings, and protection from the encroaching greed of men who saw them as tools rather than sentient allies.
Under Edward's watchful eye, the Order maintained a delicate balance between the courtly ambitions of the realm and the untamed forces of the natural world. The Dragonmeisters were few, chosen not only for their arcane aptitude but for a deep empathy with the rhythms of nature and the ancient wisdom of their dragon companions. Cloaked in secrecy and sworn to a code that placed the health of the land above politics, the order would later be remembered in half-whispered tales—dismissed by scholars, yet etched into the bones of England’s green hills and lingering mists.
Dragons, particularly those bound to the elemental Orders, were seen by the Dragonmeisters not just as powerful creatures, but as sentient conduits of natural forces, especially weather. Their influence wasn’t magical in the simplistic, spellcasting sense, but rather metaphysical and ecological: dragons didn’t control weather—they harmonized with and redirected it, like a conductor guiding the tempo of a vast symphony already in motion.
Information available soon.