In dragonsong there is said to be an elder evil, a blasphemy from an early brood. Their name has been lost to time, but their title has not. The corpsewyrm. Slain long ago, its bitterness could only be rivalled by Nidhogg. Even in death, it persists. Some say it’s soul still echoes inside its eyes, like a mockery of white auracite. While its body has since decayed and turned to dust, its eyes always seem to reemerge in the passing eras.

Should these eyes find their way to a carcass of a dragon, they sink in and nest themselves into the rotting skull like some kind of parasite or zombie fungus. Fetid aether flows and the beast rises again, roaring with ancient and forgotten magic. The Corpsewyrm incarnates once more, eager to sing death and dread to those who have granted it form.

It seems you have found its eyes.

…

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