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The Thinker quickly pieced together the information and issued a series of brief commands: "All bronze dragons, remain concealed and do not expose yourselves prematurely. Wait until the two murloc forces begin to engage in battle, then guide them toward the undead army. Remember, our objective is not to make the murlocs kill each other, but to lead them toward the undead army."
With the command given, the young bronze dragons moved more cautiously, adjusting their positions in preparation for the impending melee. Kenneth began to chant softly, the sound waves propagating through the water at a specific rhythm, helping the bronze dragons maintain their sense of direction without prematurely alerting the murloc forces.
Less than half an hour later, the two murloc armies met in the pre-arranged area. Just as the Thinker had predicted, the long-standing feud between the two tribes quickly escalated into a small-scale conflict. The Shahua murlocs accused the Kotao murlocs of trespassing into their hunting territory, while the Kotao murlocs mocked the Shahua murlocs for not even being able to catch a few "small dragons." The verbal conflict quickly escalated into an armed standoff.
The Thinker commanded, “Lead them to move southwest, which is the route the undead army is taking.”
The young bronze dragons began to implement their plan. Instead of concealing their tracks, they deliberately swam into the murlocs' field of vision to attract their attention. When the murlocs spotted their "prey," they immediately abandoned their internal conflicts and turned their pursuit to these dragon hunters. The bronze dragons swam swiftly but not so fast as to shake off their pursuers, maintaining a suitable distance and leading the murloc army along the path of the undead army.
The Thinker and Kenneth do not directly participate in this "cat and mouse game." They remain hidden at a distance, monitoring the entire situation through Kenneth's sonic perception. Kenneth is the "eyes" and "mouth" of the battlefield, while the Thinker is the brain, formulating strategies and issuing commands.
In Kenneth's perception, the murloc army formed a massive noisy mass of tens of thousands of points of light, moving toward another, even larger and more sinister group of noisy points—the undead army.
“They’ll meet in five minutes,” Kenneth whispered. “The undead army is much larger than we expected, with at least 30,000 undead moving underwater.”
“Thirty thousand…” The Thinker’s tail swayed uneasily, stirring up a tiny ripple of water. “Twice as many as we estimated. It seems Baal has indeed transformed almost all the dead inhabitants of Baldur’s Gate into undead.”
Kenneth didn't respond immediately; its attention was focused on its sonic perception. As the two forces drew closer, it could sense the unnatural stillness surrounding the undead army—the water there was almost frozen, filled with…
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It exuded an aura of decay and death.
"There has been contact," Kenneth suddenly said. "The merfolk have discovered the undead army."
Where the merfolk and the undead army met, a chaotic battle immediately erupted. Though evil, the merfolk were still living beings, instinctively loathing these undead creatures that twisted the laws of nature. The Shahua and Koutao merfolk temporarily set aside their mutual hatred and joined forces to fight against this undead army that instilled instinctive fear in all marine life.
In the first wave of combat, the murlocs utilized the underwater environment to attack the skeletons and zombies swiftly and agilely. The water resistance greatly reduced the movement speed and attack power of the skeletons, zombies, and black knights, while the murlocs were able to leverage the advantages of underwater creatures for rapid assaults. The spears and tridents of the Shahua murlocs pierced the skeletons' skeletons, while the sharks tamed by the Koutao murlocs tore at the half-rotten zombies.
But the undead army had the advantage of sheer numbers and tireless power. Wave after wave of undead creatures surged from the darkness, showing no fear or despair even when shattered. The battle lasted for nearly an hour; the number of murlocs began to dwindle, while the undead army, though suffering losses, maintained its advance.
“Now is the time for us to intervene,” the Thinker said to Kenneth. “Order the young dragons to begin the second phase of the operation.”
Kenneth nodded and emitted a series of short sonic booms, relaying the order to the bronze dragons scattered around the battlefield. With the order given, the young bronze dragons began implementing new tactics, lurking along the edge of the battlefield, using the underwater environment as cover to seek opportunities to attack high-value targets within the undead army.
The bronze dragons' tactics were extremely sophisticated. Utilizing the water's immense barrier to other senses, they could lurk at incredibly close range before being detected. A young bronze dragon would suddenly burst from the darkness, striking a group of undead with its electric breath before swiftly disappearing back into the shadows. While this lightning-fast tactic couldn't drastically reduce the undead population, it effectively disrupted their formations, destroyed command nodes, broke the chain of command, and created localized chaos.
Kenneth then played his harp, creating heavenly sounds that interfered with the negative energy field controlling the undead, causing a large number of undead creatures to temporarily lose control and even attack each other.
The three-way battle lasted for several hours, during which the bronze dragons, at the cost of a wounded young dragon, successfully weakened the undead army by nearly a third. The murloc forces, on the other hand, suffered heavy losses, with the few remaining murloc warriors scattering and fleeing the battlefield.
“We have achieved our initial objective,” the Thinker told Kenneth. “The advance of the undead army has been greatly slowed, and it will take at least two or three more days to get close to Waterdeep, which gives Casalos enough time.”
Just as Kenneth was about to respond, his dragon eyes suddenly widened as he detected an unusually powerful fluctuation emanating from the depths of the undead army.
“Something…” Kenneth’s words were cut short when a powerful surge of water rippled from the direction of the undead army, accompanied by a chilling psychic shriek:
"Poor little reptiles, do you think these little tricks can stop the will of the Father God?"
The sound was like a cold, sharp blade, piercing the hearts of every bronze dragon. The Thinker and Kenneth turned toward the direction from which the sound came. Although visibility was limited in the dark waters, Kenneth's sonic perception could discern a terrifying outline—a gigantic dragon skeleton, almost the size of an ancient bronze dragon. Unfortunately, the sound waves could not depict its exact form.
“What is that…” a young bronze dragon exclaimed.
“Ansu…” the Thinker murmured, his voice filled with undisguised shock, “One of the creators of Baldur’s Gate, he was once a powerful Primordial Bronze Dragon. How could he…”
"Father God has granted us strength to clear the obstacles in our path," the bone dragon Ansu continued in a sinister voice, the flames in his eye sockets suddenly erupting and forming a dark green energy wave that spread outwards.
The energy wave swiftly passed through the water, and wherever it passed, the previously scattered undead suddenly reformed into ranks, while the skeletons and zombies that had been "dead" rose again and joined the army. This energy not only repaired the "damage" of the undead, but also made their movements more coordinated and swift, as if they had been suddenly injected with new "life force".
"Retreat," the Thinker ordered immediately. "All young dragons, evacuate the battlefield immediately and proceed to a safe area. Kenneth and I will handle this threat."
The young bronze dragons quickly obeyed orders and withdrew from the battlefield one after another. The Thinker and Kenneth swam to more open waters, attempting to guide the bone dragon Anzu away from the main body of the undead army.
"Why is it here?" Kenneth asked as he swam. "It should be the guardian of Baldur's Gate."
“The power of Baal,” the Thinker replied briefly, “He transformed Anzu into His puppet. Anzu was an ancient bronze dragon in life, but that was in life… Its bones have been hidden in Baldur’s Gate, so it seems the dragon soul has not found peace.”
The author says:
Author's note: In Bo3, four guys with a maximum level of 12 wiped out Ansu in a flash...
The following recommendation is to ask for a day off.
The pressure of running two accounts simultaneously is still quite high. My dad missed a day on his end the other day, so I'll miss another day here too.
89. Nature and Divinity
The faint light from the seabed shone like ethereal starlight in the murky water, barely illuminating an area of less than ten meters. Violent energy shocks propagated through the seawater, forming ripples mixed with negative energy, stirring up large amounts of fine sand and gravel, further reducing the already limited visibility.
Ansu's bony wings unfurled, and its terrifying skeleton, nearly thirty meters long, creaked eerily in the dark currents. Ominous flames flickered in its eerie green eye sockets, like peepholes of death itself. The ancient bronze dragon's once massive skeleton was now twisted by Baal's divine power; its relatively streamlined skeletal structure was now marred by numerous deformed bone spurs and appendages, making it look more like the remains of some ancient sea monster than a dragon.
“Ansu’s skeletal structure has completely changed.” Kenneth’s voice was transmitted to Ohmora Sedar’s ears through a specific frequency. “Its bone density has increased at least three times, and its hardness is comparable to mithril alloy. There seems to be tangible negative energy flowing inside those bone spurs, forming a continuous sound wave medium exchange surface that my probe cannot penetrate.”
The Thinker's eyes narrowed slightly, the bronze light within them growing brighter, clearly indicating that it was contemplating a strategy. "To ensure Anzu could command the undead army across the Sword Bay, Baal granted it a power boost beyond our expectations. But water is our domain, and it, originally a bronze dragon, has now lost the agility of one."
Ansu let out a roar that shook the ocean depths, the sound waves carrying a dense negative energy that propagated through the seabed and surface, turning the surrounding water as black and viscous as ink. That muffled roar transformed into a sharp whisper of the mind: "Hidden worms, the Father has foreseen your struggles. Your futile resistance has only provided me with a little amusement."
Unmoved, the Thinker swiftly issued three brief underwater sonic commands. The few young bronze dragons that hadn't retreated too far immediately adjusted their positions, forming a loose encirclement. Maintaining a safe distance, they continuously released weak electrical currents, constructing an electromagnetic network so that the Thinker could more accurately perceive Anzu's movements.
Kenneth quietly swam to a point about twenty meters above and to the right of the Thinker, and used continuous beams to survey the detailed seabed topography.
As the continental shelf where Faerûn meets the Unseen Sea, the Sword Coast is also affected by the high elf magic that has torn the continent apart, resulting in an extremely complex underwater landscape. The numerous underwater mountains, coral reefs, trenches, and caves provide a natural battlefield for the bronze dragons.
Ansu seemed to sense the two bronze dragons' intentions; the eerie green within their skeletons...
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A burst of colored flames suddenly erupted, forming a twisted pillar of energy that swept towards the Thinker. Wherever the energy pillar passed, the seawater instantly froze into black ice crystals, which then shattered into countless sharp fragments under high pressure, like an underwater hailstorm.
The Thinker had anticipated this; it strained its limbs and tail fin, performing a roll that would be impossible on land, thus avoiding the direct impact of the energy pillar. Even so, several shards of ice crystals grazed its wing membranes and scales, leaving shallow scratches.
"The Shahua murlocs have been completely routed, and the Kotao murlocs still have about a thousand men entangled with the undead creatures surrounding the undead army." Kenneth continued his sonic probing while quickly reporting the battlefield situation to the Thinker. "The undead army seems to have lost coordination because Anzu was lured away by us, and is now wandering around in place, not continuing to advance towards Waterdeep."
“Proceed according to plan,” the Thinker replied briefly, whipping its tail to propel itself upwards and dodge Ansu’s second attack.
Kenneth then joined the battle, and the two bronze dragons moved simultaneously. No longer stationary, they darted through the complex underwater terrain with astonishing speed, like fish. Unlike Anzu's massive and cumbersome skeleton, the living bronze dragons displayed extreme hydrodynamic efficiency in the water. They folded their wings close to their bodies, transforming them into a teardrop-like shape, while the special fin-like structures of their tails and limbs rhythmically swung, generating maximum propulsion and minimizing drag.
Ansu tried to follow their trail, only to find that its skeleton encountered unprecedented resistance in the water. Those bony spikes, characteristic of the Bals, now became a hindrance, each protruding structure creating additional turbulence in the water and greatly slowing it down.
"Foolish shell!" Ansu's roar echoed on the seabed. It tried to make up for this disadvantage with the divine power bestowed upon it by Baal. The eerie green flames within its skeleton suddenly erupted, forming a terrifying vortex that pushed aside the surrounding seawater and created a bubble of negative energy.
Within the negative energy bubble, Ansu's movement speed increased dramatically, almost catching up with the Thinker. Its bone claws suddenly lunged forward, about to pierce the Thinker's abdominal scales.
The Thinker suddenly bent its body, head and tail almost touching, then sprang back like a fully drawn bow, using the water current and its powerful muscles to instantly accelerate away from Ansu's attack range. At the same time, the energy accumulated in its dragon throat was released.
Unlike the flickering arcs of electricity on land, the current released in the sea was far more terrifying. A silver-blue energy beam shot out from the Thinker's mouth, carrying a large number of electrolytic bubbles, and struck Ansu directly.
Electricity conducts much more efficiently in water than in air. Ansu's negative energy bubble burst, and countless tiny arcs of electricity immediately surged across his skeleton. These arcs drilled into the interior through the gaps and holes in his bones, disrupting the flow of negative energy. Ansu's body stiffened for a moment, and the eerie green flames in his eyes dimmed slightly.
Kenneth seized the opportunity to swim to a position about fifty meters above Ansu, accompanied by the automatic playing of the harp beside him, producing a focused, directional sound wave with the same fixed frequency as the keel. The beam converged onto the keel skeleton with almost no attenuation, causing a strong resonance.
Ansu's skeleton began to vibrate violently, and even some of the thinner ribs developed tiny cracks. Large clumps of negative energy were flung out of the skeleton and diffused into the seawater. Unfortunately, the magic network collapsed, and Kenneth's power was still insufficient to destroy the bones strengthened by Baal's power, but it was enough to severely interfere with Ansu's movements and thoughts.
However, Anzu was, after all, a puppet personally enhanced by Baal at the cost of his own divinity, and it quickly adapted to and overcame the effects of the sound waves. The eerie green flames within the skeleton erupted once more, this time not only repairing the damaged bones but also altering some of their microstructure, freeing them from the highly destructive resonance.
"Enough!" Ansu's roar swept across the entire sea. "The Father God's mission cannot be interfered with!"
It suddenly contracted its skeleton, becoming like a sphere, and then instantly expanded and exploded, releasing a powerful wave of negative energy. This impact took on a strange blackish-purple hue in the water, and wherever it passed, the seawater seemed to evaporate and then sublimate instantly, forming a bizarre state in which solid, liquid, and gas coexisted—perhaps accompanied by many other structures of ice, but the dragon paid no attention.
The energy of the impact exceeded the expectations of the two bronze dragons, and even with their swift reaction, they were unable to completely avoid the attack. The Thinker's left wing and Kenneth's tail were grazed by the shockwave, immediately leaving patches of frostbite-like black marks.
“Its negative energy output is continuing to increase,” Kenneth analyzed, enduring the pain. “At this rate of increase, we can only hold out for three to four hours at most.”
The Thinker's parrot-like beak was tightly closed: "Take it to the deep water!"
Instead of directly attacking Ansu, the two bronze dragons began using the complex terrain and currents of Sword Bay to carry the ancient bone dragon towards the deeper sea. They alternated between using lightning dragon breath to harass Ansu, always staying on the edge of his perception, neither letting him catch up completely nor letting him give up the pursuit, dragging him into deeper waters.
With every hundred meters of descent, the effective detection range of the Tide Chanter's sound waves decreased significantly, rendering Ansu completely blind. The immense water pressure acted on the materialized negative energy within Ansu's skeleton, forcing it into the gaps between the bones and exposing their rough surfaces, making its movements sluggish and unresponsive.
Viscous drag is the largest source of underwater resistance, and it is determined by the wetted surface area and the coefficient of friction of the wetted surface in contact with the water. The complex structure of the skeleton means that the underwater wetted surface area is multiplied, and the rough skeleton brings a much larger coefficient of friction. In contrast, the two living bronze dragons, the Thinker and the Tidecaller, wrap their bodies with the unique wing membranes of bronze dragons, optimizing their hydrodynamic shape. Moreover, the scales arranged in a specific undulating pattern have a hydrophobic structure, resulting in a low coefficient of friction. Their innate lightning abilities also instinctively generate additional magnetohydrodynamic propulsion around their bodies, giving them a comprehensive advantage in swimming speed, underwater maneuverability, and perception over the bone dragons.
Anzu's rage grew ever stronger, and its attacks became increasingly ferocious, but their efficiency steadily decreased due to the interference of water pressure. Its pure strength advantage was significantly weakened, making the bronze dragon's mobility and adaptability to the aquatic environment the decisive factors.
On the sea, the tranquility of Sword Bay was utterly shattered. A massive, moving whirlpool formed on the surface, with dark purple energy surging from the depths, intertwining with the seawater to create a bizarre spectacle. The seawater temperature in this area plummeted, and the air was thick with the stench of death. Even seabirds flying by fell, turning into shriveled corpses, only to open their scarlet eyes, wailing and howling, their feathers dripping with damp, deathly energy as they soared into the sky.
As the battle continued, Anzu's negative energy began to affect a wider area. A massive storm formed around a gigantic vortex. Gale-force winds whipped up towering waves that crashed against the coast of Sword Bay. Oranbo bore the brunt of the impact; this near-shore island was almost instantly swallowed by black waves tens of meters high. The western part of the Troll Howling Forest and the Lizard Swamp also suffered severe damage, with large areas submerged in eerie black water, and all creatures that came into contact with the seawater rapidly withered and rotted.
Even the Moonshadow Islands and Corinth Islands, dozens of kilometers away, felt the power of this supernatural storm. Waves three to four meters high surged onto Mingtan Island, bringing with them a large number of deformed dead fish, their bodies filled with black pollutants and emitting a nauseating stench.
Hundreds of meters underwater, the Thinker and Kenneth moved with ease, navigating the turbulent currents and whirlpools. In contrast, Anzu's massive frame appeared far more clumsy. Every slight change in the current required immense effort to maintain balance and direction, bumping and colliding with the chaotic underwater structure, smashing countless...
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The home of countless fish, shrimp, crabs, and shellfish—whose inhabitants had long ago been corrupted and killed by the desecrated negative energy—has now disappeared, with no one coming to Ansu to demand compensation for the demolition.
Every turn Ansu made became extremely difficult. To make matters worse, as the negative energy membrane contracted under water pressure, water flowed continuously through its hollow skeleton, creating complex internal turbulence in the thoracic and abdominal cavities, further reducing its hydrodynamic efficiency.
But this was not the final result. The protrusions and bone spurs on Anzu's skeleton were gradually shortening and smoothing out, the bone surfaces were becoming smoother as the water flowed, and the gaps between the ribs were getting smaller and smaller, soon they would heal together. Clearly, Baal's divinity was attempting to correct Anzu's physical weaknesses, even though His divine authority had nothing to do with water.
Perhaps Baal was right, rather than Bane and Melkor. Confining one's divinity within a mortal body for self-preservation was far less effective than painfully separating it and bestowing it upon those already immensely powerful "mortals."
“It is adapting to the underwater environment.” The Thinker, through high-frequency Doppler detection, discovered subtle changes in the Anzu skeleton and issued a warning. “Based on the timeline, its adaptation speed is increasing its underwater maneuverability by about 10% per hour. At the current speed, it will take at least 8 hours to fully adapt to the underwater environment. But in just 6 hours, we can take it to the deepest part of Sword Bay, where the pressure will become another advantage for us.”
"Continue to guide it, changing direction every ten minutes to prevent it from predicting our route. We need to drag it to Casalos to complete the clearing of the ground theater."
The two bronze dragons continued to execute their plan, using their approaching lightning breaths to lure Anzu in the wrong direction, then moving away and changing direction again, maximizing the number of times Anzu needed to adjust his course, thereby consuming his energy and buying him time.
The negative energy released by Ansu began to form a death zone around it. All creatures within a radius of several kilometers that had not yet escaped quickly entered the gates of the underworld. The seawater became increasingly turbid and viscous, emitting a putrid stench. Coral reefs lost their color, turning into grayish-white skeletons; algae withered and rotted, releasing toxic substances; schools of fish died in droves, like a black rain, their corpses floating in the water, carried away by the waves, creating an apocalyptic scene.
However, at the edge of this death zone, the two bronze dragons remained at ease, resisting the blasphemous power with the aura of their dragon leadership and the heavenly sounds played on their harps. Even in such a harsh environment, their lightning-fast dragon breaths not only did not weaken, but instead gained greater range and destructive power due to the change in the water's resistance—negative energy always seemed to be an excellent conductor.
"The undead army has been stuck in place for nearly five hours due to the lack of Anzu's command." Compared to the socially awkward Thinker, Kenneth, who was lively and unlike a bronze dragon, was overjoyed. "More murloc tribes have arrived after hearing the news and have engaged in sporadic firefights with the undead army. Although they are fighting individually, they have caused considerable trouble for the undead army."
The Thinker nodded in satisfaction: "Good. If we hold on for a few more hours, Casalos will be able to come and support us."
The bronze dragon continued to lead the ancient dragon deeper into the dark depths of the Sea of No Trace. Behind them, Anzu's hateful roar seemed to fade into the distance, gradually swallowed by the pressure of the sea and the depth, leaving only a desolate sea as the most silent witness to this underwater war.
90. Son of the Paladin
Piergelen stood atop the highest watchtower of Deepwater Keep, his hands gripping his ancestral arcane warhammer tightly, his knuckles white from the strain. His gaze pierced through the chaotic spires and rooftops of the harbor district, over the masts and sails of Navy Bay, and fixed on the turbulent sea to the southwest.
The sea surface of Sword Bay churned and roared under the intense impact of energy. Dark purple negative energy intertwined with the blue-white light of lightning dragon breath, forming an unsettling, eerie halo that leaped above the horizon. Huge whirlpools swirled on the surface, drawing water up to form columns tens of meters high before crashing back down, creating towering waves that shook even ships moored in Naval Bay far away in Waterdeep, causing them to creak and groan. Lightning slithered like snakes across the overcast sky, and thunder roared incessantly, as if the wrath of the gods were being unleashed.
“What a terrifying sight,” Piergelen muttered to himself, his voice filled with barely concealed shock. “If the bronze dragons hadn’t been there to intercept it underwater, the consequences of such a force hitting Deepwater Harbor directly would have been unimaginable.”
A burst of incredibly violent energy erupted on the sea surface, like a black lotus composed of terrifying negative energy, instantly expanding hundreds of meters. As the eruption subsided, a large area of the sea turned an unnatural inky black, as if the entire region was shrouded in the shadow of death. Piergellen could clearly see the edges of the black area slowly but irresistibly spreading outwards.
This was no longer an ordinary magical confrontation; it was a battle of life and death.
As a seasoned legendary paladin, Piergelen could sense the immense threat lurking behind this energy fluctuation. It was a blasphemous power far exceeding that of ordinary legendary warriors. If it were to directly engulf Waterdeep, even this magnificent city with its strong magical defenses would be reduced to a dead city in a short time. The ordinary inhabitants would be transformed into undead in the chaos and join Baal's army.
“There are indeed many talented people in Waterdeep, but they are probably powerless against a threat of this level,” Piergelen shook his head. “We have relied too much on the city’s protective barrier and the power of the Watchers, and neglected to be vigilant against external threats.”
His thoughts involuntarily drifted back to the past, recalling his first encounter with "The Thinker" Ohmora Sedar.
That was when he had just become a Watcher's apprentice, about sixty years ago.
At that time, Pilgalen was just a young man who had just touched the threshold of the paladin's path. He carried the glory of his father, a paladin, and was full of enthusiasm and ideals, but also with the recklessness and impetuosity unique to young people. While patrolling the Wandering Lands, he would always see a lonely old man sitting day after day in a wooden rocking chair at the end of a quiet alley, silently watching the children playing and frolicking in the orphanage not far away.
Initially, Pilgellen was wary of the old man. Even the Glorious City was no safe zone, and a silent old man observing children all day would arouse suspicion in any situation. However, as time went on, Pilgellen noticed something strange. Not only was there never any activity from human traffickers or other dangerous individuals in the alley where the old man lived, but even the thugs who took pleasure in bullying the weak seemed to instinctively avoid the area. Even more surprisingly, even during the most chaotic periods in the Wandering Lands, that alley and the vicinity of the orphanage maintained an uncanny tranquility.
The old man looked at least eighty years old, his sparse, disheveled white hair and the deep wrinkles on his face resembling the rings of an ancient tree. He wore simple but neat linen clothes, unchanged regardless of the season, as if time had stood still for him. His eyes were a peculiar amber color, which shimmered with a metallic sheen, almost copper-colored, in the sunlight. Those eyes were always calm and deep, yet filled with a wisdom and vicissitude beyond the reach of ordinary people.
The old man never spoke to anyone, nor did he accept any help or charity. Some kind-hearted local residents tried to bring him food or blankets, but these items would always remain untouched the next day, as if the old man were completely indifferent to material needs. The only thing that seemed to elicit a response from him was the laughter and games of the children in the orphanage.
Interestingly, the old man would often disappear for periods of time, ranging from a few days to several months. No one knew where he went, nor did anyone see him leave or return; he simply vanished silently from people's sight.
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He would leave, and then reappear on that rocking chair when people had almost forgotten his existence, continuing his silent vigil.
Piergellen became deeply interested in the mysterious old man. As a young Watcher with a strong sense of justice, he decided to find out the old man's true identity. However, all his investigations came to nothing. No one knew the old man's name, no one knew where he lived, and no one knew his past. Even the orphanage staff knew very little about him, only that he seemed to have been in that alley long before the orphanage was established.
Gradually, Pilgeren's wariness turned to respect. He began to understand that the old man might be some kind of guardian of the wandering land, an invisible protective force. The local residents also gradually accepted the old man's presence, even giving him a nickname—"The Thinker"—because he always sat there motionless, as if immersed in endless contemplation.
As Pilgalen rose through the ranks of the Watchers, he gained access to more of Waterdeep's secrets. He discovered that the name "The Thinker" was also recorded in the Watchers' secret archives, but the dates were staggering—the earliest record dated back nearly a century. The descriptions from that time were almost identical to those of the old man Pilgalen had seen, as if time had had no effect on him whatsoever.
Even more surprisingly, during several major crises in Waterdeep, there were always scattered accounts of a mysterious old man providing crucial assistance. This old man never left his name and always vanished quickly after his actions. However, based on the described characteristics, Pilgalen was almost certain it was the same person—the "Thinker" he knew.
Year after year, Pilgalen grew from a hot-blooded young Warden apprentice into a seasoned Warden captain, while the "Thinker" remained seated in his rocking chair, watching over the children of the orphanage, seemingly an unchanging presence in the river of time. It wasn't until Pilgalen became the open lord of Waterdeep that a corner of this mystery was finally revealed.
In fact, Ohmora Cedar the Thinker is an ancient bronze dragon nearly a thousand years old, one of the oldest hidden dragons in Waterdeep. He disguises himself as an ordinary old man and hides among the people using powerful shapeshifting magic and his millennia-long understanding of human society.
Even after revealing his dragon form, the Thinker maintained the silence and wisdom of an old man. Piergalen had the privilege of witnessing his true form in the secret council hall—an ancient dragon of immense size, its scales displaying a deep bronze luster and verdigris markings. Even among true dragons, he was an extremely rare existence, possessing power and wisdom unimaginable to ordinary people.
However, to Pilgalen's surprise, this powerful dragon seemed to have no interest in power. He never interfered in Waterdeep's politics, nor did he participate in the struggle for power. Instead, he chose to protect the city in the simplest way, especially the weakest and most vulnerable children.
After learning the truth, Pilgalen curiously asked the Thinker why he was so concerned about the children at the orphanage. The ancient dragon merely glanced at him with its still-amber-colored eyes and did not answer directly. But from then on, Pilgalen discovered in the Waterdeep archives that the orphanage was founded by a human woman who had long since passed away, and records showed that she had been rescued from a shipwreck by a bronze dragon when she was a child.
Sometimes, the Thinker would arrange a peculiar hexagonal chessboard in a secluded council chamber, upon which pieces of various colors and shapes were placed, forming extremely complex positions. At first, Pilgalen thought this was merely some pastime of the ancient dragons, or a game unique to dragons. But now, standing atop the tower gazing at the energy storms of Sword Coast, Pilgalen finally understood—those seemingly random chess positions were actually war games, predictions and preparations for potential future conflicts.