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Legends speak of a place where dragons go to die. In the far south, in the lands of the barbarian tribes, it is said that a dragon at the end of her days lies down and allows the bitter cold to take her.
It is not just a legend! I have seen Drake's Fall with my own eyes, the ancient bones of these grand beasts piled atop one another. I felt the power that suffused this place and knew the Imperium would claim it.
We built a city on the bones. We delved deep into the earth, collecting what remained of the primordial dragons who were so like our Old Gods. With these bones we created staves for our magisters, armour for our warriors, and crowns for our archons. We fashioned phylacteries to hold our blood and sarcophagi to hold our bodies, and prayed they would make us immortal.
--From the writings of Archon Melos