Ardulace

[VemuKhaham]

From a dark, deep crack in the scorched, scarred earth came an echoing sound; a roar, loud and fierce at first, but ending in a deep tone, full of agony. The echo trailed off throughout the Leaning Mountains, which, with their strange shapes - long, western slopes and steep eastern cliffs - all had sharp, edgy tops that pointed east, casting freaky shadows over the fiery, hellish landscape ahead.

The black, impenetrable shadows lay over the crack. All was silent after the echoes had fully run their course; not even the wind was there to rush past the leafless, dead trees. Then, suddenly, another cry emerged from the crack: a long, weak and hollow wail, barely audible. It was like the earth itself was sighing under the burden of the wars that were fought daily on its surface, leaving its fertile soils soaked in blood.

A few moments passed. The soft, gentle eruptions of sound continued and were repeated. Two small figures, like little children of the abyss, with goatlike beards and hooves and with little tails ending in spades, approached from a dark, hidden cleft to investigate. They carried fiendishly decorated tridents and leaning on them, they bended over the crack from which the sounds came. Something, perhaps the waves of heath, disturbed them, and they were puzzled as they took a few steps from the crack.

Suddenly, the solid rock upon which their hooved feet rested were lifted, even slung, with great force, up into the air and all around them the earth cracked and split and groaned. Even as the two imps tried to find safe footing, a sea of flames emerged from the splintered earth, overwhelming the poor minions of Hell and engulfing all the environment. Massive boulders were thrown into the poisoned air as though some great volcano had just erupted. Smoke, ash and gasses enveloped all into a dark grey cloudy mass.

Then the flames withdrew and a final surge of great force pushed the earth aside. A loud roar could be heard coming from within the cloud. Then, as quickly as it had come, the clouds dispersed by a magnificent wind produced by the flapping of two massive wings. A long reptilian tail slammed into the mountain side, two clawed feet sank into the stone surface. Above a smouldering crater now stood the enormous shape of Tegoddar the dragon, and under the shadow of his left wing stood his wyrmling Istridon, who was born in a nest a thousand feet below Hell's surface, where his mother had carefully planned the day his eggs would hatch. Today, immediately after his young one was born, Tegoddar, who had been in this world since it had been, even having contributed in the long process of its creation, would show his little Istridon the world as it was, and the people that nowadays inhabited it, so that one day perhaps, Istridon would be able to perform his duty in the world that is Ardulace.

---

A friend and I have been working on this world for quite some time now, and we thought it was time to give it an audience. So, like I did once before (in the very beginning of my membership of Kman's), I'm going to be updating this overview of a world at a (hopefully) regular pace. Remember that it is an overview, and will be seen from the perspective of a dragon mother teaching his newborn about the world. As such, this was merely an introductory part: more will come soon. Hopefully somebody will enjoy reading it, or commenting on it, or even providing new ideas and input. I will be much obliged.

[VemuKhaham]

Barely had Tegoddar the dragon emerged from her subterranean nest when she pulled her young son to his feet. Compared to Tegoddar, who stood some three hundred feet tall, Istridon was still but a hatchling, yet he already was as tall as the few trees nearby that had survived the blast. Istridon took a few uncertain steps. Then, he spread his wings, flapping and stretching them as though trying to loosen the joints after having been closely confined for too long in his dragon egg. With some mild pushing by his mother, Istridon began to leap for the skies and fly.

The pair, mother and son, now took off into the air, and quickly they reached such a height that they could now see all the world below them. And there was much to be seen: in the midst of an endless ocean of fire, and below the endless reaches of the universe, lay the great mountain-world of Ardulace. It stood many hundreds of miles tall and, aside from it's great rocky cliffs and endless amount of irregularities, it seemed to be divided into three major layers: closest to the ocean of fire was the greatest layer, which seemed to form the basis upon which the mountain rested, and this world, a fiery hell ruled by demon lords, was where Tegoddar and her son had come from; then, rising above a layer of clouds of poisonous gasses, there was a great, reasonably level terrace all around Ardulace's outer edges, and on this layer there was great diversity and from this height one could see countless of areas where there was struggle between the abyssal forces climbing up from below and the legions of valorous peoples which tried to resist their advance; finally, there was another, much smaller but nearly vertical height rising up from the center of it all, and at its top there was a great crater like a volcano's, surrounded by a circle of mountains that in their very shapes seemed traumatized by some great eruption long ago. Yet it was the most beautiful of all three layers as well, standing in stark contrast with the dark world below. All the bodies of the universe seemed to constantly circle around that majestic mountain top: among the countless stars there were two closest by, circling round the crater at only a few hundred miles distance; one burned fiercely and was largest, the other was smaller and gave but a dim light, as though long extinct. The fierce one seemed almost round but very imperfect, like though some cataclysmic event of the first days had torn of great parts of its outer shell. The dull one was even stranger in shape: one half was round too, but almost perfectly so, yet the other half was cleanly cut off, and in its place there was a great, carved facade with many windows and one great entrance which led into the core of the body.

When Tegoddar saw how the sight bewildered the young Istridon, she explained: "This is the Mountain of Ardulace, upon which all of us dwell, and so will you. All around it is Nak'maradloch, the Sea of Endless Flames. Ardulace rises from it like an iceberg from the sea. Soon, I will tell you about the early days, when there was no Mountain and we dragons lived our lives on that world that is now but the lowest ring of the Mountain, and there was peace. It is the story of the Great Eruption, of the elements and the stars, of the River of Life and the Scattering of the Dragon Souls. You, my son, for now should just remember that you and I are one of the few true dragons left in this world, with our Souls still with us, descendants of the first days, masters of creation."

"Come with me, son, and I will show you where it all began." Tegoddar took little Istridon in her claws and with dazzling speed dived headlong into the great crater of Ardulace.

[VemuKhaham]

Like a shooting star Tegoddar dived into the great crater of mount Ardulace, taking Istridon with her. They went all the way down, hundreds of miles, until the darkness enveloped nearly all - nearly, for Istridon could see underneath the protective wing of his mother many shiny things along the walls of the crater, which gave off a light almost like the stars did in the sky. Several times, there were narrow passages cut into the wall, and there were ancient, abandoned mines there. But as the two went deeper and deeper, the air began to grow immeasurably hot and a suffocating smoke rose up from below. "Look," Tegoddar said, "we are nearing the level of the Sea of Endless Flames again. But you must not worry, son. We shall stop here, as I want you to look down now."

Tegoddar drew back her great wings and released Istridon from her claw. She then grasped the edge of an outcropping of rock in the crater wall, and stood on it. Istridon now looked down: through the rising smoke and the omnipresent darkness he saw the surface of the Sea of Endless Flames, constantly burning and spewing forth hungry flames, forcing Istridon to flap his wings energetically so as not to come too close and be consumed by them. "Look carefully," Tegoddar urged her son. Istridon did his best, but saw little else than the constant fury of the fire.

Yet suddenly, there was a change. The flames in the crater drew aside to the edges, and there was a darkness, a void, unveiled behind them. In it, Istridon saw many things of the early days, even as Tegoddar projected her thoughts and memories upon the flaming surface.

Istridon saw how the seas of fire were endless just like the skies were endless. Then he saw, all of a sudden, many great dragons all unique, and even many more smaller, but also majestic creatures, coming from the clouds and the fires, and where they gathered, they combined the power of all the elements with their inherent divinity, so that an island rose from the sea, and in its center, there was a great lake of the purest water. The dragons swept down on the island near the lake, and eagerly began to make themselves a place to live. Istridon saw the passing of a great council of all the great dragons, and how they agreed to forever keep the balance of elements, and that henceforth they would command the smaller creatures - Hadár they were called - who were like tall and great men with wings, yet they too appeared in a great variety of forms. The Hadár helped build the great dragon home of Sidnarappa, an enormous citadel surrounding the lake, with homes for all the dragons and Hadár, and with a council building where the balance of the elements and the new society was kept. And ages went by too long and numerous to count, and there was balance in both the elements and in Sidnarappa.

Then Istridon witnessed how two dragons, named Agdrasir and Nexcatgûl, drew from the Sea of Endless Flames to enlarge their power by controlling the most aggressive of elements. Such an act, entirely unpresedented in history, upset the balance forever and unrest broke out in Sidnarappa. The other dragons sought to return the balance by drawing on water from the great lake, but in a devastating battle, fire prevailed and nearly all water was gone from Sidnarappa and the lake lay empty. Thus began the Age of Drought, and all the island became a barren desert where fires constantly raged. Sidnarappa was abandoned by the surviving dragons and Hadár, who began their quest for the last source of water.

Istridon then saw how these desperate dragons and Hadár discovered that deep in the earth, beneath the place where Sidnarappa Lake had been, there was still one source left. With the courage of the desperate, they dived into the sea of flames and forced their way through the many layers of fire and earth that were in between. Finally, when they found the water, the exhausted dragons and Hadár performed the ancient ritual once more, creating a last harmony of the four elements and capturing its essence - magic - thus forming a magnificent glowing orb.

The dragons wished to take with them the orb to begin a new world elsewhere, and as such they made their way back up. Yet the attempt to escape was noticed by the minions of Agdrasir and Nexcatgûl. Their return to the surface by the way they had come was cut off, as a great army of the evil hadàr and dragons (the former nowadays often called demons) was making their way down. Another path had to be made, straight up, and the dragons burned their way up as fast as they possibly could. Yet they were inevitably overtaken by the pursuing enemies, and a great battle took place, in which a few strong dragons sought to continue to forge a path for their escape, protected by many brave dragons and Hadár who held the pursuers at bay.

They succeeded, in a way. The orb finally reached the island's surface, creating in its centre the great mountain that Istridon well knew was Ardulace. The mountain kept growing as the earth gave way to the escaping dragons with their orb, yet halfway, Agdrasir and Nexcatgûl themselves arrived. The battle, fought in what is now the deep crater of Ardulace, was almost apocalyptic: most of the dragons and Hadár died in it, and with the death of each one of them, Istridon saw how an almost invisible but certainly powerful presence fled from the dying body only to float about aimlessly, and at this horrible sight Istridon felt a deep pain, like a cold knife went all the way down into his core.

While most of the dragons and Hadár died then and there, including Agdrasir and Nexcatgûl, the battle was not decided until the greater part of the orb was broken off by the power of Agdrasil. The many splinter parts of this magical orb, having such an enormous momentum by now, buried their way deep into the entire interior of the mountain. Much reduced in size, and by now very fragile, the orb was still pushed upward, creating the seperate layers in Mount Ardulace. This all continued until finally, an opening was made in the earths crust, and the torn and broken orb literally splattered apart into all directions in the universe. Two of the greatest pieces of the orb were slung with such force that nowadays they still rotate around the peak of Mount Ardulace, giving light and warmth to those who live there.

By now, Istridon understood why he had seen the stars in the universe, and why the two great orbs, called the Sun and the Moon, circled the mountain, and why there were such strange layers like terraces in the mountain, and how the lower mountain became all dry and barren, and how the crater was formed in which he now awoke from the long vision that had played itself out underneath him. He also understood what the shiny things had been which he had seen along the crater's walls, but despite all these answers, the long vision had spawned far more questions in the young dragon's mind.

Tegoddar saw that this was so, and smiled. "Come now, and let's go up from this inferno like I and your other ancestors once did, and I will show you what became of us after the Great Eruption."

[VemuKhaham]

As they had entered, so did Tegoddar and Istridon leave the great crater of Mount Ardulace with dazzling speed. But this time, Tegoddar stopped when she finally emerged from the mouth of the volcano, finding herself surrounded by the high and very steep mountains known as Ardulace's Teeth, for they circled the mouth of the volcano like sharp and pointy dragon teeth. Istridon could by now well imagine why these mountains were here and why they looked like the result of some great suffering.

Tegoddar took Istridon to a deep, hidden valley between these jagged mountains, so deep and unexpected that it seemed like the valley was made by human hands. But that was not so, as Istridon immediately noticed the countless waterfalls, some very large and noisy and others but a constant dripping of water, that poured there constant influx of water from hidden sources and caverns into the valley. At the bottom of the valley, there was a great lake covered in constant shadows, yet regardless the water shone as bright as day and was as pure as Istridon's young and innocent soul. A small stream left the valley through a narrow cleft between two steep mountain sides, going at a steady pace and growing quickly.

Tegoddar explained: "Behold, my son, that for which I and your ancestors fought to preserve: the element of water, which has its only source here in this valley. From the mountains come the many falls, which over the ages created this valley, in which lies hidden Nagridala, the Lake of Life. And there," Tegoddar looked at the stream of water that escaped the valley through the cleft, "is the beginning of the Great River, the Palyda, which brings the blessings of life to all of Ardulace, until the Black Dam far below halts its benevolent work. We will follow it, later, but for now we will rest here, in this tranquil valley garden."

Tegoddar laid herself to rest on the edge of the Nagridala, and drank some of its pure water. She then said: "You, too, should find rest and drink, as the water has a cleansing power here which will do you good." Istridon went to the lake and carefully drank from it. He swallowed and even as the water went down his throat already Istridon felt much better. He then lay down on his mother's chest and rested from the long journeys so far. Even as they lay there, Tegoddar began to tell her son the story of the Scattering of Souls.

"I saw how you suffered when you watched our ancestors die in the great battles that were fought long ago. But it was not merely your compassion that spoke at that time, son. We dragons, and to a lesser extent our Hadár servants, each have what we ancients call a Merya - a divine soul that makes us what we are."
Istridon looked up when his mother briefly stopped, as he was somewhat confused about all of it. "What are we then?" Istridon asked.
Tegoddar smiled. "We are Vilasmaira, Istridon - we are Gods, as the mortals call us. You carry with you your own unique Merya, and that makes you one of Vilasmaira."
Istridon was still confused and too curious to be content with the answer. "What do Vilasmaira do?"
"There is no one good answer to that question, my son. With our Merya - our divine souls - we become immortal, and every Merya grants its owner certain powers that are unique and that resemble the nature of the dragon or Hadár who carries it. That is, if the Merya still belongs to either of the ancient races..."
Istridon now rose and stood on his mother's chest in anticipation. "But... I saw how the dragons and Hadár all died, but you say they are immortal! And what do you mean, 'if it still belongs to either of the ancient races'?"
"That is a long tale, but the one that I wish to tell you now." Tegoddar's dragon eyes looked sad at thinking on the subject. He sighed. "First of all, we are but immortal in that we dragons and Hadár with our souls cannot die of old age, yet a claw or a blast of fire or even a grave disease can kill you or me as easily as it could kill any mortal. Now, did you see, when you watched our ancestors get murdered, anything strange?"
Istridon nodded: "I saw dim shapes, like ghosts, leave the dying bodies and then float about aimlessly!"
"Indeed. Those 'ghosts' are the Merya. When a dragon or an Hadar is slain, only the body dies, while the divine soul, absolutely immortal as it is, lives on, leaving the body and living in the shadows of our own world. The Merya still has its own will and its powers, yet without a body it cannot do anything but roam about. That was the fate that those Merya awaited after the cruel battles before the Great Eruption."
Tegoddar now smiled pitifully, as she saw that Istridon understood now, and was sad. "But all was not lost for them, dear son. And that is why we are here." Tegoddar looked at the lake. "Nearly all of the ancients died in those battles, Istridon, and as such there were thousands of Merya wandering about, from terribly powerful to almost insignificant, from kind souls to unnervingly cruel ones, like those of the slain Agdrasir and Nexcatgûl. But with the Great Eruption the surviving ancients saved the last source of water and brought it here, to this valley. Here, the water flowing from Nagridala feeds the Great River, the Palyda, which in turn flows through all of Ardulace, feeding lakes and rivers and immense seas."
Tegoddar again stopped for a minute, clearly enjoying the beauty of the valley. Istridon became impatient, wanting to know everything and understand it all at once. "But what has the water got to do with those roaming Merya?"
Tegoddar slowly rose to her feet. "The answer, curious Istridon, lies beyond these mountains, on the other side of Ardulace's Teeth."
And onward flew the pair, following the beautiful Palyda river as it turned and twisted its way through the mountains, grower ever wider and more powerful.

[VemuKhaham]

At some point during their flight, there seemed to be a change in the landscape: the steep mountains suddenly gave way for a gentle sloping landscape of green hills and forested valleys. But Tegoddar and Istridon continued to follow the path of the Palyda, which by now grew very wide and majestic. Moreover, even before they could exit the mountain range and trade its narrow passages for the open landscape, within Istridon's sight entered amidst these outermost mountains and built over the expanding Palyda a great white marble citadel. It was an immense complex of halls and towers, bridges between them and great fortress walls surrounding the whole. From the midst of all these tall and marvelous buildings rose a huge tower, rising even above the highest mountains that the two dragons had just passed. The tower itself, like most other towers, was round, yet at the upper half the immense structure flattened and broadened gradually, until at its broadest point there was a platform from which rose at opposite ends two huge, sharp canine teeth-like pinnacles bend inward; there, between these pinnacles from the platform then rose another round tower, which at its highest point supported a small watchpost that could easily give those inside a view on the crater of Ardulace itself. There was no doubt that only some immortal race could've built this great tower.

Tegoddar circled the tower a few times, giving Istridon a chance to look at it for a while. Istridon tried to see who inhabited the citadel and the tower, and to his joy he saw many angel-like Hadár flying through the complex, as well as even more mortals walking its streets who all looked to be great men and women in their own right. There were some who looked up at seeing the dragon pair, and indeed they seemed surprised. One blue-skinned Hadar flew with great feathered wings toward Istridon and looked at him with kind and joyful eyes. It then spoke: "Welcome, dragonchild! Is this your first visit to our city of Aenysia?"
Istridon nodded. The Hadar smiled and turned to Tegoddar. "The news of your son's birth has preceded your arrival, master Tegoddar, and it is truly a unique event! Loremaster Porgaria has searched the Scroll of Absolute Knowledge for the last time a dragonchild was born, and it was seven hundred years ago. Imagine it: an entirely new Merya of such an innocent nature granted by the All-Father to Ardulace in its time of need! Now tell me, dragonchild, what is your name?"
Tegoddar answered before Istridon could: "He is called Istridon, after our slain leader in the Great Battle. His Merya has still not manifested itself to us, but doubtless it will do so soon."
The Hadar nodded in agreeance. "He seems strong and tall for his age; he will do great things for Ardulace." He then turned to Istridon. "Istridon, my name is Silridil, and I am the First Gatekeeper of our citadel. If you wish to, please do us the honor of visiting Aenysia, the City of the Merya."
Istridon was intrigued and looked to Tegoddar for approval. "Go, but stay with Silridil. I wish to visit some people before we continue our lessons."

As such, mother and son parted, and Istridon went with Silridil. The Hadar Gatekeeper led him to a central square, and even before they landed there, many of the beautiful inhabitants of Aenysia had gathered there. For the first time, Istridon saw, amidst the other Hadár, gold-haired, winged elves, faeries, drow elves and normal elves, but also humans, dwarves and other fine members of the mortal races. After Silridil had introduced Istridon to them, the people applauded and cheered and Istridon was happy to see that so many people were welcoming him as one of them, or even as their better.

Then, Istridon dared to ask a question that Tegoddar had promised to answer him: "Can you tell me, please, what the Palyda River has to do with the Merya that left the slain bodies after the Great Battle?"
The people seemed happy to see Istridon's curiosity, and one young, fair elf stepped forward and bowed long before the young dragon. "Hail, Istridon the Dragonchild, son of Tegoddar! I am Mikofar the bard, and your question can be best answered with a song."
Everyone grew silent, in anticipation of Mikofar's talents. The young elf produced a lyre and began to play a sad song, yet Istridon felt constantly the flare of hope that eased the pain he had felt in his very core ever since he had witnessed that horrible battle.

Fire, teeth and claws of death, Hadár and dragons of old,
here is a tale we must never forget, of the battle my ancestors told!
There, in the depths of Ardulace high, even as the mountain grew tall,
many a wing did cease to fly, causing their bodies to fall.

Come! Fly, Merya! Search for the freedom above!
Come! Immortal Merya! New life awaits thee above!

Through strength of will and elements four, combined in balance anew,
There came the spring of life so pure, all where it went life grew.
Through deserts and fires and everywhere, the river of life did flow!
With it came life so green and fair, it forced all the shadows to go!

Trees! Birds! Faeries! Ardulace greets thee with hope!
Elves, men, mortal! Gather together and hope!

When all was green and teemed with life, from Ardulace's mouth came a sigh,
But oh, it was a sigh of relieve, of spirits refusing to die!
And down went a wind divine, and many felt its touch,
Scattering souls in every line, as kings and peasants made Gods!

Come! Live, Merya! Gather your bodies and live!
Come! Immortal Merya! As trees or humans and live!

The elf stopped playing and all was silent for a second, but then, there were cheers and applause again. Istridon now understood that the river Palyda had flowed through Ardulace and given life to all the trees and animals and mortals as it spread, and that the Merya had found in them new bodies to manifest themselves in. "So all of you have a Merya?" he asked. Mikofar answered: "That is correct: even though most of us are not of the ancient races and therefore not immortal, in us house the Merya of Hadár and dragons like you and Silridil, and therefore we are quite like Gods."

"But not entirely so." Suddenly, there came a loud voice from the great council building that lined the square. From behind the immense entrance, cloaked in the shadows, came a great head of a fully-grown dragon, obviously not Tegoddar's, but possibly even larger. "Istridon should not think that all went as it should've been, and with your poems, Mikofar, that is precisely what you make appear!"

[VemuKhaham]

"Who are you?" Istridon said with a shaky voice in answer to the stern, deep yet loud voice of the dragon cloaked in shadows.
Mikofar stepped aside but appeared quite undaunted by the dragon's sudden interruption. Yet, like all the other people present, he bowed toward the gate, where the voice came from. "He is Master Goromodon," the elf bard said, "High Councilor of the Meryadagath, the Congress of Gods, the leading body of all that is good in this world."
Master Goromodon spoke again, his voice booming yet indeed not nearly as threatening as it had first appeared. "In that, Mikofar is right."
Then, suddenly, the head of the dragon came through the gate out in the open: it was a massive head, and not as slender as most dragon heads are. Then, with a few steps, Master Goromodon stood outside, and he was even larger than Tegoddar. He could only barely stand up straight as he did under the roof of the great Council Building, and it seemed that the entire proportions of the building and its entrance were made with this massive dragon in mind. He stood in between the columns before the building's facade, and bend over so that his head was now very close to Istridon's.
"Whatever Mikofar may tell you may be pleasing to the ears and good for dreaming in the night, but he is a bard, and not High Councilor, like me. The world is at war, Istridon, and it is my duty to lead the forces of goodness during these tempestuous times."

Master Goromodon now stepped into the square, while people made room for his massive clawed feet to stand. He looked out over the beautiful green lands surrounding the citadel, his eyes staring straight into the sun without even blinking. He then spoke solemnly: "Why do you think this city was build, Istridon?" "To house the Merya?" Istridon said, thinking the answer very obvious.
"WRONG!" boomed the voice of the dragon lord, "We built it to defend our piece of this world from those that lurk below, always trying to spot a weakness, a hole in our defenses, to rise from their Hellish world to make our world even more terrible than theirs!"
Istridon did not like the story, but he new it was important, so he listened. Gomorodon went on: "Behold this tower," said he, while looking at the enormous tower that, with this dragon on the foreground, suddenly seemed much smaller than before. "It is here not for me to live in, or for Mikofar to look out from on the valleys and the horizon as his thoughts dwells on faeries and the setting sun; it is a watchtower, the greatest one of four, which we built after the Great Eruption in all four cardinal directions of Ardulace's Mouth, so that at all times we can look upon its wide depths from behind the mountains and make sure no evils rise from it. That is what they are for, and they are constantly manned, for hardly a day goes past that the alarm is not sounded once."
Istridon shivered, suddenly aware of the dangers he and his mother had willfully faced when going all the way down into the crater. He had no time to think of it though, for Gomorodon went on: "Yet this is the safest place on Ardulace that you may be in. Here, gods gather in the Congress of Gods to co-ordinate the wars, fought out mostly below, and the Daïggon Order has its Guild Headquarters."

Istridon raised his head as if to ask what that 'Daïggon Order' was, but Gomorodon was too quick in continuing. "I suggest that you do not linger in these misguidingly tranquil lands of Aenysia. Tegoddar should do well to lead you below, to the middle layer, and in as far as he can, to the 'Underworld'. Though you are welcome to come here anytime, know that for every second we Merya with the pure hearts linger in Aenysia, an innocent mortal may die in the wars below. Far too many of us are here now: if I had it my way, all of us would be down there fighting, and, if I were not bound to my other duties, I too would be there. Yet I will leave the dreaming to Mikofar, and your further teaching to Tegoddar, as there he is already."

Indeed, approaching the square from the northern skies was Tegoddar. When she landed, she greeted Gomorodon with respect, but indeed almost as her equal. The High Councilor spoke with likewise respect to the other dragon: "Tegoddar, hail! I just suggested that Istridon should visit more of the lower worlds, that he learn what evils we face and of the mortals and immortals that live and fight there. I suggest you bring him first to the elves of Veluna, so that they can school him in the lore of mortals, and then go to Hamurbihael, to hear of the Dwarven Exodus and of the knowledge of minerals and mining."
Tegoddar agreed. "That was my plan indeed, and from there we shall go nearer to the wars, and the underworld. But first of all, we shall visit the Daïggon Order."

[VemuKhaham]

And as such, with some goodbyes, Tegoddar and Istridon left the gathered folk on the square, only to fly in wide circles toward another square in another section of the citadel, located at the base of the great watchtower. There they found the Daïggon Order Headquarters, and its roof and entrance were as large as those of the Council Building. Yet this massive structure was round, with a massive domed ceiling in the centre and with great columns all around the sides of the building exterior. There were guards near the entrance: two large winged angels saw the two approach, but at seeing Tegoddar bowed and stepped aside. The entrance was concealed by a huge golden curtain, upon which there was an emblem of a white falling star, and above and below it was written in runes of the old language of the Vilasmaira - the Gods:

Enter, ye faithful, and honor Daïggon's Oath:
'To dedicate ourselves to the preservation of goodness,
To recover and contain the dangers of the sun and the soul,
To guide and educate in the use of magic and power,
To protect the people from its abuses.'

Tegoddar and Istridon entered, and at once found themselves in the massive central planning room of the Daiggon Order. The hall was overwhelmingly decorated, with golden pillars supporting the roof, which was itself ornated with the image of the nightly sky, and there were little lights that shone from it that were like the stars, and there were the central dome reached its apex, there was a great orb that gave off a golden light, so bright that all the room was illuminated. The floor was covered with reddish tiles, but they were all richly adorned with gemstones of all the known kinds. The walls were covered with paintings of battles and portraits of great mages, and opposite to the entrance there was a painting of what looked like the Great Eruption: a massive mountain breaking open at the top so that the countless shards of the great orb of magic were all whirled into the sky, and there were dragons and Hadár everywhere on the picture.
And then, in the center of the room was a great round, dark red tapestry with golden dragons. On it stood a small stage, right underneath the light-giving orb above, upon which a speaker might stand, and in a wide circle around it, in four rows along the outer walls, there were many benches like one might find in an ancient theater. There was nobody present. "This is the central meeting room for the Daïggon Order. Come," said Tegoddar, "we will proceed to the headquarters."
Istridon wondered where that might be, for he saw no other doors than the entrance through which they had come. But then Tegoddar reached up with his clawed hand, and touched the golden orb. "Follow," he said, before dissapearing all of a sudden. Istridon was amazed, even panicked for a second, but then he spread his wings and flew upward, to touch the great, shining orb.

The next moment, Istridon realized he was somewhere else entirely, and felt like he had been drawn up, through the roof and then toward some silvery light. Tegoddar stood next to him, and they were in another great, round room - round on all four sides - which was almost as beautifully decorated as the meeting room. In the centre, there was an identical shining orb. Yet here, there were everywhere extrances and exits, and one great locked door. Not only was the massive door locked, but also were there two guards near it and some magic seemed to be in effect upon its surface. Besides the guard, the entire place was a hub of activity, with many people, of all races, most of them in robes or armor and all wearing the yellow and white colors with the falling star emblem on it. Again, as on the square in Aenysia, these people flocked to the two newcomers to greet them.

Tegoddar seemed to notice someone, a robed human wearing the Daïggon colors, of good physique and with a bold head. He was in his late thirties, or so he appeared. Then he introduced himself to Istridon: "Welcome to our Moon Headquarters, Istridon Dragonchild. I am Goddar Amhalis, Daïggon Knight, renowned for having been cursed with yet overcome the Merya of the Demon Lord Taan." Goddar noticed Istridon's confusion as to his current location, and proceeded: "Yes, indeed, by way of our Sunstone Teleportation system you have arrived in the very core of the Moon, where the Daïggon Order has its guildhouse, the most important site of our Order if you do not count the Meeting Hall you just came from."
Istridon was silent in awe at the thought of being inside the moon for a while, but then dared to ask: "But what does the Daïggon Order do?" "That is a good question, Istridon. But if you came from our Meeting Hall you must've read the runes displaying Daïggon's Oath?" Istridon nodded. "Well, then, let me start by telling you, that that oath was spoken by our Order's great founder, Master Daïggon, the great dragonlord who himself had taken the lead in performing the great ritual to create the orb of magic that emerged during the Great Eruption. You are familiar with that, are you?"
He looked somewhat like a stern teacher trying to find out whether his pupil had done its homework, but Istridon nodded. "Ah, then you also know that Master Daïggon is, in fact, the resurrector of magic, for magic is the balanced converging of the four elements, which was lost during the Tiranny of Agdrasir and Nexcatgûl. Well now, dear Istridon, to give you an answer to your question: the Daïggon Order deals with magic, and all that this entails, which is very, very much..."

[VemuKhaham]

Goddar Amhalis gestured for Istridon to follow him, and Tegoddar again left the two on their own to deal with other matters. The mob dispersed again and the pair walked through a few large halways, while Goddar showed Istridon what was happening around him.

"Let this be your first lesson in the intricacies of magic, Istridon. In time, you will, no doubt, come to understand all of it, but we shall start at the beginning. You know now what magic is and what happened after Master Daïggon recreated it. Well then, the Great Eruption shattered the great orb, as you know, and shards and bits and pieces were whirled into the skies, the earth and the seas. The sun and the moon are the largest remaining parts that we know off, but the stars too are pieces of magical essence. Sometimes, one of those faraway stars returns to Ardulace, and crashes upon the mountain. It is not for naught that today we say that when one sees a falling star, or a meteorite, that he or she may make a wish. Sometimes, such wishes even come true."

Goddar smiled, then went on into a gargantuan room that seemed like a great storehouse: endless rows of greater and smaller boxes could be found inside. Some of them were open: these were often empty, but from some came light that was, again, like that of the sun. Goddar showed Istridon what was inside. "Here we store what we call magical essence: shards of magic, big and small, in fact. Why do we store it, you may ask. Well, that is because we, the Gifted, - those with the ability to wield it - need the magical essence to cast spells. Let me demonstrate..."

Goddar took from one of the boxes a small piece of magical energy, about the size of a fly, and then turned to Istridon. "Look." The Knight clenched the essence in his fist, then uttered some words that Istridon could not understand, and suddenly, his free hand began to glow and fire came from it. The fire quickly went out and Goddar showed that the magical essence was gone. "That was magic. Quite a simple spell, as you can see, but I only allowed myself to use a small amount of essence. Compare this to the shards of essence that you used to arrive here by magical teleportation, and you will see that the more essence you have, the more powerful the magic can be, as long as there is a mage educated enough to use it."

Istridon looked with some awe at the massive boxes that filled the storage room, supposedly storing equally massive shards of essence. He imagined what one could do if using all the essence in this room at the same time. Goddar saw the eagerness in his eyes and said: "But now we reach the subject of education, training and, most importantly, potential. Let us proceed..."

The two walked through a few more equally massive storage rooms and hallways, and then entered a more busy part of the Guildhouse again. It was another great room where everywhere young mages (some still children) were experimenting, training and battling each other as practice. Tutors and supervisors walked around freely, going from student to student to provide help. There were seperate college rooms where archmages taught students in larger groups how to work magic, but there were also warriors who provided the students with the necessary physical and combat training. The place, all things considered, was a great school for new Daïggon members.

This was what Goddar said about it: "These young boys and girls are all being trained to become good Daïggon Knights. The important thing to remember is that all those that are allowed to train here have been identified as 'potentials', as we call them. Now, listen carefully: a potential is someone, mortal or immortal, who has traces of magical affinity in his blood. Now you have learned that only the Vilasmaira with their Merya can work magic, but that is not entirely true. There is a distinction between divine power, drawn from a divine soul, and the ability to draw power from magical essence, which only those have who, in a direct or indirect way, inherited the traits through bloodline of an ancestor that did have a Merya. So someone with a Merya, besides having his own divine powers, is always a potential, because he has Vilasmaira blood in him. His descendants may inherit this Vilasmaira blood, and be a potential too, though in a weaker way. And finally, it depends on the strength of one's potential how strong a mage he can ever become through training."

Goddar let the information sink into the young dragonchild, for he seemed a little confused for a while. "I know it is difficult. But the Daïggon Order was established to find the potentials and unite them behind the forces of good, so that the power can be controlled and contained. Potentials that fall into the wrong hands can be worse than a demon lord at times...

And for that purpose, Daïggon Knights search all the world to identify potentials, which is not always easy. Bastard children of former Vilasmaira or formerly mortal Vilasmaira who do not even know what they truly are, are becoming an ever greater problem. And you should know that the Daïggon Order may be by far the largest, but most certainly not the only organization specializing in training potentials as mages. Furthermore, most of them have far less noble intentions than do we... To keep our own students from straying from the right path, all novices, once they are ready with their basic training and they go out into the dangerous world, receive a tutor, a master, and that is the backbone of our organization.

I hope the picture of what we do is starting to become less shrouded in mystery by now. At any rate, you should remember that our Headquarters here and our Meeting Hall in Aenysia are only the main body from which we lead an immense organization with representatives all over the world that is accessible to us. Through teleportation stones, which can of course only be used by potentials, we can quickly travel from one guildhouse to the other. With this network, the Order ensures not only that potentials are found and recruited, but also that the worldly rulers understand and help in our cause and that all the magical essence, which is scarce and expensive enough as it is, is brought to us so that it can be kept out of the hands of less noble mages and that we may use it to further our good cause."

The two went on some more, spoke a few students and tutors, then came upon the same round teleportation room, after apparently having walked in a full circle. Tegoddar was waiting for him. "Did you see all?" she asked. Goddar answered for Istridon, shaking his head: "Not nearly all, Master Tegoddar. But before we continue his lessons, for example on the Prison of Banished Merya behind that door," and Goddar glanced over the massive door with its guards and locks and magical protection, "I suggest you show him first the wide world. He seems still awfully naïve on those matters."

Then, Tegoddar nodded and she and Istridon touched the great, shiny orb of magical essence, and went on their way back...

[VemuKhaham]

A few seconds of magical traveling later the pair again stood in the Daïggon Meeting Hall. Tegoddar left it without further delay, and Istridon followed meakly, still somewhat impressed with the strange tales of those Daïggon Knights. With the same directness, the pair flew up and left the citadel Aenysia, the city of the Merya.

Finally, as they traveled in silence, Istridon dared to ask a question: "Mother, what did that mage Goddar mean when he said he was cursed with but had overcome the Merya of that demon lord..." he tried to remember the name, "...Taan."

Tegoddar drew around and flew backward as she explained: "Taan was a demon, an Hadar turned evil. Because Hadár, like us dragons, have their own original Merya, their Merya changes with them; it becomes evil too. When the demon lord Taan was slain by Goddar Amhalis, the Merya was released. And Merya, because they are always in agony when they do not possess a body, almost always directly possess the nearest body they can find; usually, that of the slayer. Goddar was a good man cursed with an evil Merya, and as is always the case in such a situation, the Merya tried to set Goddar's will to his command. Since Taan was very powerful, Goddar's inner strife was a harsh one, and the archmage was sick for over a month. But ultimately, Goddar won the duel and Taan's Merya was overcome, and now Goddar uses the demon lord's Merya's powers. Yet to do so is always dangerous, for using the demon Merya's powers means that its will has a change to take over control again. Goddar may be famous for his mental victory, Istridon, but I do not think he deals wisely with his situation, for he often uses his newly gained powers without absolute need. He may have dealt with it for almost sixty years now... Yes, those mortals with powerful Merya live longer than others of their mortal race usually do," Tegoddar added this at seeing Istridon confused - Goddar was human and had seemed only forty years at best by his appearance, "...but one day he may not be so fortunate. In fact, the Daïggons should do what they always do: exorsize his evil Merya and imprison it in a Moon Cell. Yes, that big door that you saw in the Daïggon Headquarters, it was the door that leads to the Prison of Merya. That is where the Daïggons and Vilasmaira lock up the exorsized, evil Merya in small Moon cells, so that under the powerful magic inherent in the very fibre of the Moon's walls, they are contained forever. For imagine that, despite his unnaturally long life, Goddar dies and Taan's Merya escapes again... I don't understand why the Daïggons let Goddar keep his Merya; of course, exorcism is painful and risky in many ways, but letting him keep it is reckless and against the codes."

Tegoddar seemed quite exited over the matter, even angry, and Istridon was very much dissapointed: Goddar no longer seemed like the good Daïggon Knight who had showed him their headquarters; in him, some Demon soul had lingered, perhaps even looking with malicious eyes at Istridon...

Beneath them now was the valley of the Palyda. "We will follow the river for the remainder of our lessons, Istridon. It leads through all of Ardulace, until it reaches the Sacramor, the Black Dam of the Underworld. But most likely, that is as far as we shall be able to go, safely anyway."

[VemuKhaham]

They followed the Palyda as it left through the walls of Aenysia the citadel, and entered the valley of Aenysia, which circled Ardulace's Teeth as did the river. The Sun and the Moon went along their horizontal circles along the horizons of the highest layer of the Mountain, and Istridon now understood why Tegoddar said this valley was called the Land of Endless Shadows. And while the Sun was now in the north, passing away behind the great mountains around Ardulace's Mouth, the moon began to appear from behind those same mountains in the south. In short, in the eastern half of the upper world, night was falling as the shadows of Ardulace's Teeth lengthened.

The river Palyda grew quickly and fed many small lakes and streams with water that sparkled like silver as the moon began to grow in the south. The skies grew dark there while near the northern mountains it colored red and orange and gold. Then Istridon noticed in the valleys below, near the steep vertical cliffs that were the edges of these blessed lands, overlooking the lowerlying lands, many shadows of tall stone statues depicting a great variety of figures, from men to elves to Dragons, and they all stood on large stone outcroppings, with on their heads a crown much like the shape of the great watchtower of Aenysia, with its two sharp tips. "Who are they?" Istridon asked, and Tegoddar looked and said: "They are the statues that mark the graves of the dead Vilasmaira. Here those mortals and immortals that have in life done great deeds are buried by the drow elves to be remembered forever in the Valley of Endless Shadows. Their crowns refer to Aenysia, as you can see, for these men and women are regarded as the children of the Citadel, and they say that their spirits still linger in and watch the surrounding lands from their statues, protecting these lands from the dangers below."

Istridon swallowed a lump down his throat as he realized he was flying above a massive graveyard of such great people, and that probably in the rocky outcroppings their bodies still rested, and perhaps even their spirits watched. During the remainder of their journey in the upper world, Istridon kept spotting these sad statues of proud lords and warriors of old, a reminder to the innumerable souls that had lost their lives to the preservation of goodness on Ardulace.

Then, Istridon noticed something entirely different. Along the banks of the river and around many small lakes he saw silvery lights in clusters, often hidden among the trees and sometimes even appearing to move. Tegoddar said: "They are the descendants of the first mortal people: the winged elves, or faeries. They were the first people to have been born when the Palyda first flowed, and the only mortal people to have been born still on Ardulace's upper world. They are, as a result, perhaps the fairest and noblest of them all. Today, they dwell in these woods along the water, merely trying to live their secluded lives in peace, hoping the wars and politics of foreign powers passes them by, but it was not always such."

Tegoddar sighed, and Istridon awaited anxiously the rest of the tale. "In the early days of Ardulace, the Faeries were as much an active part of the war as any of us. Their role was the protection of these lands of Aenysia, and they helped build the great citadel. Then, one of them, Mataron Teyadin, wished to do more, as he saw that the middle worlds were being lost to the evils of below even as we seemed only to care for our dear lands of Aenysia. Mataron gathered a great host of winged elves to join him in the Long Descendance, a march to the middle world to relieve their mortal brethren there.

But the Congress of Gods would not allow them to leave, and without their help, no mortal - except Seeren perhaps - had ever succeeded in climbing up or down from one layer of Ardulace to the other. In staunch resistance, Mataron began in secret his great work of building an underground tunnel, with a great spiraling stairway, according to some counting over two hundred and sixty thousand steps, that went all the way down to the middle world. The project, which took over a century to complete, resulted in the Forbidden Passage, thus named because the Congress had explicitly forbidden its construction, which meant yet another way for evil immortals and, worse, mortals to reach Aenysia. Today it still exists, and I will show it to you soon. And then, I will show you Veluna, the faery colony.

All you need to remember now is that those Faeries you see there who remained behind, loyal to the Gods, now still mourn the sudden, tragic departure of their brethren, and have vowed to live their lives in denial of the wars of Ardulace. So, Istridon, it is better to leave them in peace now. Let's fly past them, leave them to their mourning, for they have deserved their peace."

The two flew on, and - after passing the western and northern watchtower - when they reached the northeastern lands of Aenysia - which were still under the bright daylight of the sun - Tegoddar pointed to the distant horizon, to a rocky pinnacle that seemed to stand seperate but on equal level to the lands of Aenysia, and a great but narrow stone bridge linked the two. Perched on the pinnacle stood, like an eagle's nest, a beautiful house, supported like a tree house on wooden plateaus so as not to topple off the small pinnacle. "There lives the Hadár Loremaster Porgaria, a hermit living in a library, and he is undoubtedly the wisest man on Ardulace. He has been tasked with keeping and maintaining the Scroll of Absolute Knowledge, one of the only artifacts that has survived the destruction of ancient Sidnarappa. I once saw it: it is a scroll that has no end, and can be unrolled as far as one pleases. Sages have, constantly since Sidnarappa's birth, added on it all events of note, all knowledge they wished to preserve, on that magical scroll's surface. That tradition is now entrusted to Loremaster Porgaria, who does an admirable job at it. Most likely, your birth has already been recorded by him on the scroll, as news comes to him quickly, through mundane and magical ways. We need not go there now: he will most likely be busy, and he appreciates his solitude. Again, let's go on with our journey."

And so they finally reached the southeastern edge of Aenysia, having circled the entire upper world, much like the great Palyda and the sun and moon did. The sun was now also in the southeast, and the Palyda passed closely by the eastern watchtower before veering off toward the cliffs bordering Aenysia. There, where the two dragons reached the cliffs in the southeast, the Palyda reached it too, and with great force it fell down for dozens of miles along a steep rock wall. The constant, deafening roar of the waterfall almost made it impossible for Istridon and Tegoddar to hear each other. Istridon saw several statues here too, and they looked over the cliff's edge, and so did Istridon. He saw the river dive miles and miles into the depths, but he did not see the world below: halfway, there was a big cluster of dense clouds obscuring much of Istridon's sight, making it appear like the river itself ended inside this veil of mystery. Yet there were some places were Istridon could look through the clouds, and he saw far below a dim land, vaguely stretching out until far in the south it dissapeared in a blur inseperable from the air and Nak'maradlock, the Sea of Endless Flames.

Tegoddar then moved a great boulder that Istridon had not yet spotted. He did so with ease but any Hadár or mortal would have never been able to do so. Behind it there was a dark tunnel leading down vertically by steep stairs. "Behold the Forbidden Passage, bane of the Gods, secret of the elves, now home of the drow! This boulder, too heavy for any mortal elf or orc to lift, was placed here by High Councilor Gomorodon, to seal of the passage forever. Only in rare occassions is it opened." Tegoddar rolled back the immense boulder. "And as such it is better quickly closed again."

"We are too large to go through it, Istridon, but we dragons have wings tireless enough to descend to the middle world in a much easier way. Come, to Veluna!"

Like when they had entered the great crater, Tegoddar took Istridon by the shoulders and dived, face first, down through the clouds and along the great falls of the Palyda. Istridon kept his eyes shut as they descended.

[VemuKhaham]

To Istridon, who was being held firmly in the claws of his mother, the dive seemed to last an eternity, while he kept his eyes shut in fear. The only thing he could tell for sure was that they were passing very closely to the waterfall of the Palyda, as he heard its roaring and felt the cold drops of water constantly on his scales. Suddenly, there was a great rush of wind and Istridon felt more water than before.

"Open your eyes!" Tegoddar shouted. Istridon obeyed reluctantly, but Tegoddar slowed their descend until they once again hovered on a constant level. Istridon at first saw only a dense fog which was pierced everywhere by rays of sunlight coming from above, and through it all he saw on one side the great falls and the rocky cliffs. He then realized they were inside the clouds that had blocked his view upon the middle world.

To his amazement, he saw figures, flying through the air, of strange things that appeared to be like the wind, and there were creatures near the waterfalls that entered and appeared from the water at will. They were beings of pure air and water, flying or swimming without any clear purpose, nor did they seem to pay heed to the pair of dragons. It seemed like they had entered upon a hidden stage, where a play was going on and everyone had a part in a great dance. As the windy creatures flew past they nearly blew Istridon away and as the water creatures went by he was wettened, and there were bigger and smaller variants. Tegoddar let him take in the show before saying: "A spontaneous concert of magical apparitions: elementals, the result of the strong presence of certain elements in harmony with the others. Here the warmth of the fiery sun, the water of the Palyda, the earthen cliffs and the air all come together to make such a thing possible. That it happens here is no surprise, but it can happen anywhere. The mortals fear it like they fear an earthquake or a hurricane, for the mindless elements can arise at any time when one element is very strongly present, and they can cause severe damage, especially the larger ones. Houses may burn when a heartfire produces a flaming elemental, or blown off their foundations when an air elemental passes close by. Luckily, such large elementals are rare, but here, in these ideal conditions, you see many of them."

Istridon thought the elementals were beautiful and their aimlessness calmed him, but Tegoddar clearly wished to go on. As such they went further down, again at terrible speed, but now they quickly broke through the layer of clouds and suddenly all the world below was plain for them to see. It lay at least twenty miles further below, but already the view was overwhelming. Tegoddar did not halt however, and after they had descended another fifteen miles or so, all the while keeping close to the falls, they were entering into a narrow gap between two very steep and tall mountain ranges that branched off to the south from the great pillar that was the upper world. Quickly, they were enveloped by the shadows of the deep shaftlike gap, and they kept descending. The Palyda Falls too entered into this great round gap, which was about fifteen miles in diameter, and already, despite the shadows, Istridon could see many lights down below and that there was a great lake at the bottom, from which the Palyda continued further south.

Speaking as they were still descending swiftly, Tegoddar said loudly while bracing against the great winds: "Below us is Veluna, the Valley of the Moon, home to the elves of Mataron! We will pay them a visit now!"

In time, Tegoddar slowed down his descend again, and they were now truly in the valley, which was on all sides surrounded by miles high mountain ridges, so steep that only far above they could still see the round shape of the light of day, like looking up from the bottom of a lightless well. Only on the south side was there a passage that was only as broad as the Palyda: still over three hundred yards wide.

The Palyda Falls crashed down with great force upon the Veluna lake, that filled nearly the entire valley. It was almost dark here, though it had still been day before they had entered the shaft: when looking up, the Sun could be seen sliding into the western ridgeline. Yet Veluna remained aglow with light. From the lake came many beautiful glowing lights, and upon closer inspection they were produced by a great collection of diverse, fluorescent water plants floating on the lake's surface. Then there were innumerous torchlights coming from the houses of the elves, which were caves actually, hewn into the cliff on all sides of the lake, in six layers with hewn out streets running past them. The result was six layers of lights coming from open doors and windows from all sides of the valley. On the streets there were many elves going about their daily business: guards on patrol, children playing, hunters and gatherers bringing in today's results, smiths and other artisans at work outside their shops, and much more.

But the main center of business was also in the center of the lake: there were three islands on it, which could be reached by numerous small, flexible swan-shaped boats. On the two smaller islands there were marketplaces and docking bays, and merchants - mostly humans, dwarves and gnomes - came there by ship to sell their wares, and they returned with fish or lumber and fine wooden carvings, or with metal tools, weapons and fine jewelry or other luxuries. Fishermen left the harbor to spend the day on the Palyda or the lake of Veluna.

But on the largest island there was a great palace of white marble, silver and gold. Gardens surrounded it so that it was almost concealed behind the high pine trees, but the central building rose up above even the highest trees and ended in a great silver dome with a round opening at the highest point.

At the place where the falls crashed into the water, there stood another beautiful, yet smaller building. It was open, with windows and doors that allowed one to see inside easily, but inside, it was empty. The back of the building was built into the cliffs, and a great tapestry, showing a picture of the silver moon, decorated that wall.

And finally, there where the river left the valley in the south, between the high ridges that ran on further southwards as great mountain ranges, there were two watchtowers built into the sides of the mountain at either side of the river, there were the streets lining the houses stopped. Between the two towers, which were perched on rocks some hundred feet high above the water surface, stretched a high, arched and narrow bridge, ensuring that the streets of Veluna were all like a great ring, as was the great valley itself.

Tegoddar said: "We will spend tonight here, for rest, and so that you will have time to enjoy the creativity of a mortal, but brave race."

[VemuKhaham]

The two dragons still circled above the city of Veluna, and Istridon found the whole of this picture like a great spell, as if he had entered a world in a dream, in which he could sleep and rest his weary wings. And Tegoddar knew it, as she said: "Go to the palace and seek King Baradan. Ask him if you can stay here for some nights. I will not be able to stay here, as you can see..." Indeed, Tegoddar was too large to land anywhere in the canyon city without causing major destruction. As such, she spread her wings once more and went to the south, leaving Istridon with that sole instruction.

There was nothing for Istridon but to follow it, so he went to the palace and landed on the island, amidst the green gardens and before the great entrance of the wonderful building. Of course, it did not last long before he was spotted by the guard: elves in dark blue and silver armor approached him from all sides. Istridon looked at the elves and they were all fair, but he was surprised to see that none of them had wings, like their faery ancestors whom Tegoddar had mentioned in her tale.

"Who are you to land on the King's Island unannounced," one of the guards asked sternly. Istridon's answer was very insecure, as he hoped that he had not offended these small but brave people: "Please, I am Istridon, and my mother is Tegoddar, and she told me to find King Baradan so I could rest here..."

"You have found him!" came a voice, solemn and fair, from apparently nowhere. "Come to me, under the Window of the Moon."

"The King has spoken!" shouted one guard. As one, the guards withdrew from Istridon and let him enter the palace. Istridon went inside, looking around with great wonder. There were many beautiful hallways, all with many windows and curving walls, some large, others too small for Istridon to pass through. But there was a trail of light floating in mid-air like dust through a series of passages which Istridon followed.

His intuition did not betray him, as after going passed several corners and rooms, Istridon saw a pair of doors open into a great central hall, with a great vaulted ceiling like that of the Daïggon Meeting Hall, albeit much smaller. There were numerous doors entering into the round room, and between them the walls were painted with many great scenes of elven history. The floor was of shining white marble, but there was an ingenious mosaic laid into the marble, and Istridon saw that it was not just a beautiful work of art but also a system that he did not understand. Exactly above it, the great hole in the center of the dome looked out to the sky far above, which was already darkening.

Looking at that hole was a cloaked figure, standing in the centre of the room, tall and strong and fair. His cloak was white, but the shadows made it appear much darker. It was a heavy cloak with a cap at the back, but instead of covering his head with it, the silver-haired elf wore a beautiful circlet. Without looking at Istridon entering, the elf spoke: "Come stand next to me and look through the Window." Istridon hesitated, but came to stand with him. "That window?" "Yes, the Window of the Moon. It will begin soon."

Istridon waited and the elf was silent. Then the young dragon heard a soft chanting in the elven tongue. It was a choir of six elven children, boys and girls, who entered the room through one of the many openings, preceded by two elven ladies who carried a number of strange scientific instruments. They were all, like the king, cloaked in white and their hair were silver.

Then it began. A silver glow entered the Hall through the window, its bundles of light first coming from the east. Istridon watched as he saw the Moon appear from behind the black ridges way up there. The spectacle was marvelous, especially when he saw how the great Falls of the Palyda began to sparkle too, and the moon slowly appeared in full. The children began to chant louder and faster as the moon entered sight in full, and the two female elves handed one by one the instruments to the king. He used them to look at the Moon, and then allowed the women to do the same, and then, using other strange instruments together with the signs on the mosaic floor, they seemed to be carrying out some strange ritual.

When the moon had passed, about one hour after it had appeared, the ritual was over. Finally, the King, Baradan, explained: "It is a faithful night upon which you come to us, Istridon, son of Tegoddar the Old. The moon tells us that you will become a great asset to this world, in time, but that until then, you must be taught much about us elves, and of the other mortals, so that you know those whom you are to protect, and lead, one day. Rest now, first. Tomorrow I will answer all your questions, and more."

With that, the king and his priestly kin left Istridon in the hall, alone. Istridon yawned, not knowing of the great dreams that were to come to him here, under the Window of the Moon.

[VemuKhaham]

Istridon had several short dreams during his long hours of sleep. They each dealt with a fragment of elven history, and in it Istridon heard the voice of King Baradan over all other voices of the elves figuring in the great legends of the past:

"It was dark in southeast Aenysia, and only the moon shone upon the Palyda Falls there. Like an army of thieves the noble faeries slipped into the deep darkness that was the Forbidden Passage. But before they began their Long Descend, one faery stood on a large boulder and spoke to the others. A hundred years they had worked in the greatest secret, and now it was complete. Under the leadership of the great Mataron Teyadin they made the bravest sacrifice, which they would always regret and admire: they defied the decree of the Congress of Gods to fight in the wars below.

They began the Long Descendance, of some two hundred and sixty thousand steps, from the region of Aenysia to the canyon of Veluna. It was after many days of toiling that Mataron Teyadin, a relatively small but very inspiring winged elf, was the first to appear from behind the great Falls of Palyda, to which the Forbidden Passage led. As such, the ever-falling water would be an eternal cloak to conceal the entrance of the Forbidden Passage below.

One by one, all the winged elves, with some hesitation, appeared from behind the Palyda Falls to look at their new home, Lake Veluna below the canyon, and they entered it as the Moon passed overhead, just like they had left the world of Aenysia when the Moon was above them. As such Mataron named the place Veluna, valley of the Moon, as all were in awe at the silvery glow which lay over all the lake and its surroundings. But the name was also appropriate because the valley was known for its almost eternal darkness; because of the high cliffs surrounding it, it was only during the one hour that the sun was precisely above the valley that the day lasted, and at all other hours it was dark there, and light came only from the fluorescent flora on the lake, or from the moon that also could be seen passing over during one brief hour of the day.

With great hope and courage, the elves began to build their homes on the islands and in the cliffsides. A temple was build behind the Palyda Falls, to mark and at the same time hide the place where the Forbidden Passage was. The years passed, and many times evil forces encroached upon their secluded home and the elves fought fiercely to protect their homes and free the suppressed mortal races of the middle world.

But then, after these years of hope and brave resistance, Istridon heard a desperate cry from one of the elven homes. The first child of Veluna had been born, and it was without wings, and it had unnaturally silver hair and a skin whiter than was usual among the faeries. He was the first of the elves, descendants of the faeries. It was the sacrifice of the people of Veluna: living farther from the purest source of the Palyda, their life source was, like the water, slightly tainted, and besides their new appearances the elves lived only up to about six hundred years, almost twice as short as their faery ancestors.

This terrible doom brought despair upon the remaining faeries of Veluna; soon their own kind would die out and all folk of Veluna would be wingless elves. Surely, this was the punishment of the Gods for their disobedience, many cried out. Within a few days, many winged elves had gathered round the Forbidden Passage and meant to go back to Aenysia. Mataron had tried to stop them, but many went regardless.

It was when these winged elves returned to the surface of Aenysia that they sought the mercy of their faery ancestors and more importantly, of the gods. They were however, only partially forgiven. The repentent faeries were allowed to enter the world of Aenysia, but only in the executing of their new, eternal task: to bring back all the dead elves to Aenysia, so that their lifeless bodies could be buried in the lands of peace and reunited with the ancestors. More importantly, they were forever to guard the Forbidden Passage against evil, and as such they were cursed to live in its darkness. Because of this task, these punished elves made their homes inside the Forbidden Passage and became known as drow, by some less forgiving Gods even called the Undertakers of the Wingless. Soon, because of their unnatural lifestyles, they became blackskinned and their hair got white, losing even its silver glance. Their eyes became red so that they could see in the dark, and their existence, because it was so hidden, became shrouded in mystery and legend. Today, they only appear when an elf dies somewhere outside Aenysia, where-ever that is, riding on black horses pulling a black carriage for the body. They almost never speak, solely focused on the execution of their task. Many who have seem them describe them as a proud but torn people, with sad eyes but taking pride in their task and loyalty to the Gods. Many non-elves even doubt their very existance nowadays, because it is so rare that an elf dies.

Centuries went past and wars were fought, and the Veluna faeries died out, with the drow taking their last corpses back to their Aenysian ancestors. Veluna today is a land of wingless elves, and many elves have even ventured beyond Veluna to set up new colonies, sometimes founded during large campaigns against the evil armies. Yet most of these did not survive for long, and these stray elven groups more often than not have become absorbed by other cultures and peoples. That is not to say that some small elven groups still wander the lands, and even some tribes of elves exist today.

In Veluna itself, the slow loss of their wingless brethren was experienced as a great doom. Much of their society had been built around the idea that flight was a normal part of elven life. Painful was the realization that some rooms of the old elven palace could no longer be reached without flight. It was during these times that some optimistic elves began to befriend the loyal giant eagles which had their great nests among the cliffs and mountain ranges around Veluna. It was the wingless elf Fwelbyan who was the first to be seen flying on one of these majestic beasts' backs, and ever since then the elves and eagles have been inseperable, and the elves were able to fly again.

Istridon awoke and found that he had indeed been dreaming underneath the Window of the Moon. Through dreams, the king had taught him all about the history of his people, and as such the remainder of his stay among the elves was spend in leisure, and Istridon became friendly with the elves of Veluna and their king. Still, there was so much to learn that Istridon could not see and hear and know everything of Veluna before Tegoddar arrived and their journey continued.

[VemuKhaham]

Immediately upon arrival, Tegoddar called Istridon toward her, and Istridon said farewell to Veluna. The two went south, as did the Palyda, and went over the great bridge that marked the entrance to the Valley of the Moon. Immediately as they left the higher cliffs behind they were greeted by the sun far above, and the light of day lay over the lands in the south.

The Palyda continued into another, much larger and more open valley. It was bordered in the east and the west by the outward reaching arms of the great cliffs that had bordered Veluna. Especially in the east, this mountain range quickly bent off further eastward and the great shapes diminished into a cluster of steep hills through which many small streams rapidly made their way at most. The mountains in the west, on the contrary, retained their majesty for quite some distance, and there were apparently no easy passages through which one may travel beyond.

The broadening valley was characterized by endless woods of very ancient trees, through which the Palyda pierced and gained in size, almost at the same speed as the valley itself did. Here the Palyda first split into two major branches, one going further south and the other circling in a wide bend to the east, until it cut straight through the hills that lay there, only to split up into countless smaller streams with the hills rising above it as many islands. Then finally, to the south the Palyda gained enormous size, in breadth nearly one mile from shore to shore, until the distance blurred Istridon's sight, but he could still make out something like an enormous sea.

"This area is known as the Druids' Garden, Istridon. Elves hunt and gather their food here, and many of the world's most wise animals roam through these forests, blessed in strength and spirit by the pureness of the water they drink. But before we shall follow the Palyda's eastern arm into Byssaria, we shall go to the old druids' observatory in the Wisseta Mountains."

As such the pair flew eastward, until Istridon could see in one of the higher mountain tops a small, old and worn wooden door, somewhat hidden between the shrubbery. Not far removed from it, coming from what may be called as the very roof of the mountain, through a small hole, came a great tube: a powerful telescope.

Before Istridon or Tegoddar arrived at the observatory, a man came out of the wooden door; he was an elf, but a very old one, and he had a hunched back and walked on a stone stick. "Greetings!" he said, with a broken, but cheerful, voice. "What brings you here, Tegoddar? Word from above, perhaps?"
Tegoddar sat down on the slopes of the mountain, and said: "I have come to show Istridon the world."
"Ah, but the world can not be seen better anywhere than here! Alas, I fear young Istridon, even as small as he is for a dragon like you, will not fit inside my humble observatory... But I can tell him this: here is the observatory that belongs to the druid circle, a small but powerful group of mages that specialize in observing the stars and their patterns, and our tradition has grown independantly from the monopolizing Daïggon Order. They dislike us for it, but they need us to track down falling stars before they crash into the surface of Ardulace, forming a new and rich source of magical essence if they can be found and recovered."

The old druid, whose name was Ganwin, told them more of the druids, and that this valley, from these Wisseta Mountains in the west to Byssaria east, and the First Sea to the south, were the druid lands, and that the druids had an ancient alliance with the elves and the Byssarians. Indeed, the druids seemed to Istridon to be a very secluded group of the best mages outside the Daïggon Order, entirely in tune with nature and the world around them. Ganwin was but one of them, and the others lived either in the Druids' Garden or in the vast lands beyond. They only gathered when two falling stars succeeded each other in one month, something which happened only once in a decade or so.

The visit to Ganwin was short, and Tegoddar and Istridon went on their way to Byssaria, land of the Treelord.

[VemuKhaham]

The journey continued and Tegoddar and Istridon now reached the place where the Palyda broke through the western hills, and Istridon saw beneath him an enormous swamp, stretching out behind the entire eastern range of hills and extending far southeast, following the path of the Palyda. Here, for many miles, the Palyda split into a hundred smaller arms, like those of a giant octopus, grasping the green hills that rose above the water surface. On these smaller and larger island hills stood massive trees, their roots ancient and each of them occupying a lofty space to stress their old age and the rightful claim they could thereby boast on their surroundings.

To the north, the great mountain of Aenysia rose up and spawned forth yet another arm of majestic mountains, this one even higher than the Wisetta mountains to the west. The arm reach eastward, and enclosed the valley of Byssaria there, making the Palyda bend to the west only to round the farthest foothills to go north again. It was in this hilly valley that there lay enclosed between the slopes several very clear lakes that were all fed by branches of the Palyda. Some of them lay hidden among the trees, others could be plainly seen from a distance.

Tegoddar and Istridon saw beneath them several centaurs hunting, and Tegoddar said: "We must not disturb the centaurs. They are fiercely territorial, and they like to be left alone. But I can tell you all you need to know of them: they are a pure mortal race, second only to the elves perhaps, and they are at home in the hills and woods of Byssaria. Six tribes there are, and often the six are at odds, but they all adhere to the same wise lady as their guidance, and she, the Goddess Byssa, makes sure that such disturbances are always solved quickly. Her wisdom runs as deep as her roots, some say."

Finally, in the northwestern end of the valley, where the hills reached the cliffs of Aenysia, they saw rising out of the green hills a great mountain, standing free from all other mountains and most peculiar in its shape: for the top of the mountain was crowned, as there towered many great pillars all around the high peak in a very round circle.

But Tegoddar did not yet speak of that odd mountain, and by now he went to one of the central islands in the Palyda. It was a larger island with many great trees on it, and Istridon wondered what could possibly be so special about it that they needed to go there. When they had landed there, Istridon saw nothing.

But just as they touched the green soil of the island, Istridon heard a slow, deep and rumbling sound, not far from where he stood. Istridon was startled but Tegoddar comforted him: "It is old Byssa, Lady of Byssaria. Treat her with respect, for within this valley and far beyond, she is regarded as true royalty, though indeed she is far more than that."

Then Istridon saw that the sound came from one of the trees, a massive oak, whose only distinct feature besides its greatness was a deep cleft in its huge trunk. And Istridon recognized that the sounds were words, and he tried to listen. "Tegoddar and Istridon Dragonchild, you have come to Byssaria. Why?"
The straightforward question caught Istridon offguard, but Tegoddar answered for them both: "To ask for your wisdom, Lady Byssa, if you have but the time to spare."
"Time is of little value, if you are rooted to the ground in a valley of tranquility like here, and it is as I would have it. My wisdom you shall have."
"I thank you, Lady Byssa. Istridon will gladly hear your tales, while I shall try to obtain permission to visit King Dordagar."
"Pass my blessings to him if he will hear you, Tegoddar. And receive my blessings yourself as well."
With those words, Tegoddar once more left Istridon alone, and flew off to the north, to the Crowned Mountain.
Istridon curiously asked Byssa what tale that he will hear, and she spoke in her rumbling voice, as ever only to be heard with great difficulty. There was no way to tell that the oak was actually alive, except for this rumbling voice. The tale that Lady Byssa now began to tell was a long one. It was about the creation of life and trees and animals and all that was nature during the first Flooding of the Palyda.
"It was during those days that along the fertile banks of the Palyda a young oak began to grow. Years passed, and she grew and she grew. For a while, times were good, and the young oak could grow unbothered.
But then, on the horizons appeared a host of demon Hadár, who had come from the Underworld, and whose armies had washed over the Middle World even while the Palyda was still in search of its path through valleys and canyons. It was perhaps the greatest invasion ever to have occurred on the Middle World, and never thereafter did they reach so far into this contested layer of Ardulace. But then, there were still no elves who had descended to turn the tide, and the dwarves, they then still fought as minions of their demon overlords. During those days, they formed, with perhaps the imps, the bulk of the dark armies, as orcs had yet to be born as the most cruel of all races spawned by the corrupted parts of the Palyda.
Yes, I was that young oak, and I and my tree brothers and sisters were defenseless against the pickaxes of the duergar, as we call the evil dwarves, and against the fire of their masters. Already they had enslaved the humans and other mortal races, and the centaurs who dwelled here knew they were next.
The demons came and trampled the earth as they rushed past my leaves and branches, and they burned and slaughtered on their way. The centaurs never stood a chance.
It was then that at the place where we now stand, in the Byssarian Marshlands, that the faeries, the later elves of Veluna, under Mataron Teyadin came to fight the demon hordes. I witnessed all the battle as it raged around me, and slowly, the dark legions were driven back by the valor of the elves. It was here that Mataron's brother, Ilzefal, who unbeknownst by himself carried a Merya, came to fight under my leaves. The enemy that he attracted was an unfortunate one: the demon Hadár Salfeshluk, prince of Tryx, a vast province in the Underworld, stood opposite him, its three heads grunting and taunting and its spiked tail swinging behind him. Ilzefal had only his sword, and when he saw a chance, he struck, but accidentally, he only hit me in the side." Istridon's eyes fell on the cleft in Byssa's trunk. "Salfeshluk slew Ilzefal then, and bit of his head, and threw his body upon my roots. His triumphal laughter was heard all over the battlefield, but all I felt was the Merya of Ilzefal seep into my core, giving me life. It was how I became what I am now.
The battle was won by the elves, fortunately, and I was recognized by elves and centaurs alike as the new body for Ilzefal's Merya. It is as such that Byssaria was given under my care, and the centaurs especially, they honor me as I protect this little part of our world."

The two talked for a long time about many things concerning this tale and many others, and finally, when evening fell, Tegoddar returned from the Crowned Mountain. "We have been given an audience, Istridon. Prepare to meet the divine dwarven king of Hamurbihael, Dordagar Hermit-King.

[VemuKhaham]

Istridon had enjoyed his time with Byssa, listening to her tales and partaking in her wisdom and hospitality, but as Istridon was equally curious about this Hermit-King, it was time to say goodbye. And so Tegoddar and Istridon left the old oak Byssa and, some time later, approached the Crowned Mountain, as it stood proudly in the night, surrounded by darkness and a layer of fog.

There was utter darkness on the mountain and Istridon began to wonder, if anybody was supposed to live there, he was at home right now. The great crownlike circle of pillars rose majestically around the peak of the mountain, and in their midst the two dragons landed.

The first thing that Istridon noticed that caught his attention and amazed him, was the beard. All over the flat top of the mountain there ran strings of hair, almost snow-white in color even in the darkness, some of them braided or bound together at intervals by precious rings and other jewels, and some strings where even so long that they reached a considerable distance down the slopes of the mountain. But to the other end, they all ran to the same place: there was a small cave, just large enough for Istridon to go through, and towards it, all the hair seemed to run.

The cave was utterly dark, but Tegoddar said: "This is the home of Dordagar Hermit-King, Savior of the Dwarven Race. Go inside; he expects you. His guardians will not waylay you."

Istridon hesitated, but with some pushing he finally went inside. His dragon eyes quickly adapted to the darkness that filled the cave. At the entrance, there were two pedestals at each side, and upon them stood two ceramic urns. Istridon was sure he heard whispers coming from both of them, as well as a mysterious greenish steam. Both urns were reddish but had black figures portrayed on them of many broadshouldered, squat men, probably dwarves, carrying axes and shields, all walking in a row behind another dwarf, who had a great crown on his head and pointed upward, as if leading them there.

Istridon, unnerved by the mysterious urns, quickly went past them and began to descend at a very gradual slope, circling along some wide bends down into the mountain. All the while, the floor of the tunnel was covered in a layer of hair at least three inches thick. Meanwhile, Istridon saw how the walls of the tunnel became increasingly decorated with sculptures carved into the rock walls. Indeed, Istridon became aware that it was a series of scenes, telling a tale that the young dragon could not understand. He looked at their great craftsmanship and marveled at their elaborate, detailed nature, but walked past them because he did not know the story that was told.

At long last Istridon came upon a great underground room so large that even with his dragon-eyes Istridon could not see the end of it. But there were torches here, attached to natural rock pillars that supported the roof. As such, Istridon saw that the place was inhabited, and several figures - dwarves - roamed about. There were no more than ten at most, all of them relatively young and male, and clothed in a red tunic with a black skirt. On their heads they wore red caps, and they seemed to take great care in grooming their beards and long hair.

They roamed in this great cave that was like an underground monastery: in one corner of the cave they kept bats, in another there rose great toadstools in large quantities, surrounded by a low stone wall. There were also several little houses cut into the walls of the cave: nothing more than hollowed rooms with a door and a lone window, with some likewise sober decoration.

Some of them looked up briefly when they saw Istridon, others almost ignored him. One came toward him, and bowed, but did not speak. He gestured Istridon to follow him, and Istridon went with him further into the wide cave, following the hairy trail, and at long last he saw in the shadows a niche on a somewhat elevated level - perhaps eight feet high, accessed by a stone stairs. The niche was shaped like a seat in the wall, with an arched ceiling.

Seated in it was an ancient dwarf, aged physically beyond what could be expected of any other mortal creature, his skin drawn and lined, his eyes as grey as his beard was white. Indeed, the hair that Istridon had been following all this time was his, and it came to him and above his chest it was all bound together by a great golden ring. On his head rested a heavy golden crown, but the dwarf was clothed in the same simple style as his minions: only his tunic was white, and his skirt gold, and he wore a black mantle with golden rims.

Yet despite all his physical weakness and modest clothing, there was a majesty that emanated from his mere presence that Istridon could not ignore: this man showed, more than any immortal like his mother, that he had lived through a great many years and had experienced their impact in full. Even old oak Byssa had seemed less experienced, even Daïggon Knight Goddar had seemed less charismatic, and yes even Tegoddar had seemed less old than this here dwarf.

At first, the king seemed lost in deep thought, his eyes turned to some fixed point in the distance, but after a few moments they stirred and fell upon Istridon. Istridon could not help but feel like he was being judged by eyes that had caught the greatest liars and had welcomed the most honest child.

[VemuKhaham]

Istridon looked at the ancient king and his eyes widened in wonder. As for the king, his gaze was as constant as the mountain. He almost was like a statue, but then he moved his lips to speak. Never had Istridon expected such a resonant, strong voice from such an old creature. "Hail, Istridon, son of Tegoddar. You're mother has announced your coming. I am King Dordagar of Hamurbihael." Slowly then, his head turned on his stiff neck to face the dwarf who had led Istridon to the king. "Gormir, leave us; go prepare the night fire."

Gormir left but Dordagar's head remained fixed as it was. He began to speak again. "Since you are here now, you must have seen all the story of my kin, from the days of our slavery until you came to my throne here in Uldam Riach, the Crowned Mountain." Istridon shook his head, somewhat ashamed at having to admit he did not watch them carefully. But the King merely cleared his throat and sighed.

"There is much that stone statues can do, but they cannot speak for themselves. But since I have been a part of all the scenes you just passed by, I shall speak for them now. Go back to the entrance, and look only at the wall sculptures when you arrive there. You will hear my voice explain, but my weary body must stay here."

Istridon could not help but conclude that this aged body was but a prison to a strong mind and soul - his Merya, which could only be sensed when the king spoke, by hearing the resonance of his magnificent voice and the wisdom behind his words. But Istridon went back as the king said, not looking at the walls until he once again arrived at the cave entrance, near the two urns on their pedestals.

Suddenly, Istridon heard the echo of Dordagar's voice: "Welcome again to my court and temple, Istridon Dragonchild. Do not fear my guardian spirits; their ashes rest in their urns as they have been told to tolerate your presence. Proceed to the first scene, which ends when you see the great waterfall of the Palyda. Watch it closely."

Istridon proceeded as told, and came upon that first scene. He looked at it, now very curiously: he saw a desert landscape with many dry rocks and crags, reminiscent of what he had seen when he had first left the Underworld. He saw terrible demons there and great fortresses. The scene ended when it was seperated from the next by a great waterfall coming from an endless cliff. "You see here Magagorat, the great fortress of the evil demon lord Sjalab. His rule began during the early days, when the Palyda's cleansing water had yet to run its course. All was dry and barren. Proceed..." echoed Dordagar's booming voice.

Istridon complied. He went passed the waterfall and came upon a much more dynamic scene: the falls of the Palyda flooded the fortress Magagorat, and many demons drowned in the violence. At the same time, toxic gasses rose from the water as it merged with the tainted Underworld environment. "Behold how the Palyda's cleansing waters surprised Sjalab and his minions and brought about the destruction of Magagorat. Yet in the end, the water did not stand a chance against the tainted Underworld atmosphere. It got polluted; proceed."

Istridon went further as did the flowing water. At some point, he could see how the water spawned forth several stocky figures, much like the dwarves but with squinting eyes and goatlike sicks. They carried pickaxes. "Behold the birth of the Duergar, our dwarven ancestors, from the Palyda as it overthrew Sjalab's stronghold." Somewhat further down the river's waves, more figures appeared by the side of the water: they were smaller and skinnier, but had goatlike faces and hooves, a tail and little wings. In their clawed hands they held whips. "Imps, the foulest of the more common mortal races, born when the river was even more poluted as it advanced in the Underworld. Devious and cunning, they became the aids, officers and mages of the Underworld demons."

The river suddenly stopped with another barrier marking a new scene: a great, black dam was being built to stop the river, and many duergar toiled in its construction, whipped by imp overseers, who in turn were looked at from afar by the demon princes, their arms crossed and floating in the air. "There you see the construction of the Sacramor, the Black Dam, to stop the Palyda's advance into the Underworld. Our ancestors, strong and resilient in physique, were enslaved by the demons and their imp minions to perform the heavy and dangerous labor. The work was succesful and the Palyda was halted. Proceed..."

The next scene was seperated from the former by a great fortress tower, obviously the rebuilt Magagorat. It displayed the Duergar in a great slave camp, performing many duties, such as mining minerals, smithing and building new fortifications. Imps whipped them and a demon prince, Sjalab, looked on from Magagorat. "The duergar were enslaved and for centuries their fate was to work for the demons and suffer the malice of the imps. In time, many duergar became used to their fate, accepted it, became cruel themselves."

Further ahead in the scene, Istridon saw how a great many duergar, led by imps and demons, marched with pickaxes and in heavy steel armor to war. Those in the middle climbed up a steep stairway up onto the great cliff to the Middle World, which marked the next scene. There, the first line of duergar rushed into a battle with men, centaurs and faeries. The end of this scene was marked by a big tree against which lay a headless faery corpse killed by a demon. Istridon remembered Byssa's sad tale. "Not only did our ancestors have to mine and toil in the construction of palaces and towers, they also were forced to fight as the frontline soldiers in the demons' armies that ventured into the Middle World. But during their most daring campaign into these lands of Byssaria, they were defeated by the faeries that had come to the rescue."

Behind the tree sculpture there could be seen duergar, imps and demons fleeing into all directions, but the duergar were all eventually rallied by one of their own around a tattered flag he was waving. The pole of this flag marked yet another scene. "Here you see the surviving Duergar rally around the first duergar rebel, Mrur-Môgor. He was brave and led the surviving duergar warriors back to the slaving camps of the other duergar to free his kin, now that the defeat of the Demon lords was still weighing heavy on their rule."

Behind the flagpole there was another battle, this time again set in the slave camp, and all the duergar were incited to rebel against their slavers. This battle was especially detailed and brilliantly carved into the rock wall, its image spanning almost five meters in length. At the other end of the battle though, the duergar rebels were being surrounded by another host of demons and imps, and even a great black dragon spewing fire, who was so great it marked yet another scene border. The dragon burned many dwarves, among them Mrur-Môgor. "The rebellion was quelled though, when more demon forces appeared from nearby counties, and when the black dragon Sheriul appeared to aid the demons. Sheriul killed Mrur-Môgor and ended all hope for freedom. Proceed."

The next scene was an especially sad one. Amidst the bodies of duergar and the burned slave village, the demon prince Sjalab met with the surviving duergar. They were already chained again. Further along in the scene, imps were again whipping duergar as they were forced to work. "Proceed..." was all that Dordagar needed to say now.

The next scene was bordered by another portrait of Sjalab: this time he deviously offered the duergar a long pipe held in his clawed hands. The duergar accepted, looking especially desperate and sad, and others were already smoking the pipe in groups seated in dark corners of the slave village. From here on, all the duergar looked more like living dead than actual duergar, as they toiled endlessly in their unvaried and harsh tasks. "Sjalab was not merely a tirant ruling by force of arms; he was cunning enough to realize another rebellion might be sparked easily at another time. As such he offered the duergar, in their darkest hour, the greengas weed, made from a weed grown under the constant toxic atmosphere of the Underworld, which at first seemed to the duergar merely a tool to forget their troubles, but in fact it brought them under Sjalab's malignant designs: the weed robbed those that smoked it of their own will, their own pride and desire, replacing it by only a constant craving for more weed. However, Sjalab would only give it if the duergar did as he said. Proceed..."

[VemuKhaham]

Istridon obliged eagerly and strided past the endless sculptures to see what would be next. He saw how the toiling and drugged duergar entered a mine. Then suddenly, the next scene was marked by a great pile of boulders blocking the mine shaft, trapping in the next scene a great many duergar into the dark cave. Most of them sat themselves down desperately on the ground, smoking pipes; only few knocked against their prison walls in vain. "One day, many of the duergar were sent into the mines to dig deeper than we had ever gone before. By accident, the tunnel behind them collapsed and they were trapped. They sat there for days, awaiting their deaths."

The next scene showed the same cave with the duergar suddenly standing up against their certain doom and uniting to dig their own way back to the surface. One duergar, portrayed especially tall and wise, tossed away his pipe while raising a foreboding finger against his fellow duergar. They too tossed away their pipes. "Sitting isolated in our prison awaiting certain death, the weed ran out and its effects slowly wore off. Without the accident, we would've never been able to rise again against our slavekeepers! Yes, we, for I was there too. I said to my fellow duergar that we should do whatever we could to go back to the surface and cast of our ancient lot, and behold, we found a way!"

Istridon looked ahead and saw how the next scene was entered into by the duergar, who broke through the rock with their pickaxes and suddenly stumbled upon a great vertical shaft with a great fire burning at its bottom. From above their came an angelic figure, reaching out his hands toward the duergar. "The stars favored us that day, Istridon, for we happened to be close to the crater of Ardulace itself, and there we escaped the Underworld. But the crater was deep and could not be climbed, and it would hardly have been, on its own, our savior. Then, after we had been starving and, most importantly, praying for another few days, and trying to carve a stairway up, a vain excercise, the angel Faniel came from above, found us and saw to our rescue."

The next scene was a happy one, and Istridon recognized the citadel of Aenysia and the Meryadagath, the Congress of Gods, and even High Councilor Gomorodon, welcoming the duergar in their midst. There were serious conversations between Gomorodon and Dordagar, but most everyone else was celebrating and throwing flowers in the air and playing music. "We asked for forgiveness to the Meryadagath after Faniel had seen to our rescue. I said to High Councilor Gomorodon that my people wished now only to live in peace and atone for our sins in helping to protect Ardulace from our evil, drugged and enslaved cousins and their masters, and Gomorodon in his wisdom granted us that wish."

Then Istridon continued down the scene and saw how several duergar in front of the crowd that was gathered in the citadel cast down their pickaxes and unknotted their sicks so that they became true beards. One of them held high a large axe, and the crowd applauded. "Here is shown how, thus accepted among the good peoples of Ardulace, we cast down our pickaxes for the axe and changed from sicks to beards. Ever since, we have been called dwarves instead of duergar, our evil ancestors. Pickaxes were a symbol of our slavery and our goatsicks were of the demon and imp fashion, indicating our submission. Now we took to the axe, to cut off our bonds with the Underworld and as a token for resistance and revenge, and we let grow freely our beards, to show that we had matured and became wise in abandoning the weeds that had kept us down. Today, the axe and the beard are the most important possessions of all dwarves: they mark his independance and his wisdom."

The next scene was on the other side of a great door opening, leading inside the great Council Building itself, and there was a gathering of the Meryadagath. While a great crowd watched with enthusiasm, Dordagar knelt before High Councilor Gomorodon, who in turn placed a crown on the dwarve's head. "Here you see my crowning by Gomorodon, and the kingdom of Hamurbihael, meanin 'Atonement' in the dwarven language, was founded."

The walls of the Council Building bordered this very large scene, and on the other side the moon, which was still round to Istridon's suprise, shone unusually bright through the windows. But Istridon now looked closely at the moon as he saw many small figures going about busily along the edges of the moon, some of them cutting into them with their pickaxes. "As such, the Vilasmaira had saved us from the Underworld and given us a kingdom, but what had we done for them? As such, when I found out that the Daïggon Order was looking for a way to gain magical essence faster and find a way to deal with evil Merya which they had captured, I taught them the secrets of the Underworld: how there were pieces of the Great Orb all scattered in the earth, which we called minerals and gems, that could be mined to gain magical essence. And then I ordered my people to begin the great Moon Project: it was we who turned the Moon into a great, hollow prison for the evil spirits that had been captured, just like I knew the Demons imprisoned their captured souls inside fallen stars of magical essence, and the Daïggon Order became rich in the magical essence of the moon's contents. With this great advantage, it were the Daïggons that managed to grow into the greatest magical guild and as such drive the evil peoples to the outer edges of Ardulace further than ever before. There was a price, that henceforth there would be days and nights in Ardulace, as the moon became hollow and less bright, but it was one that all were willing to pay for, as the war was indeed going badly at that time."

Istridon was amazed to see that these small dwarves had done such great works, and he continued to be amazed when he saw many more scenes portrayed before him of the greatest deeds that the dwarven people had done from those days to this: great battles to avenge their past, the building of Hamurbihael under the mountains, the carving of the Crowned Mountain, all were equally magnificent. Then, when the Crowned Mountain was crowned, there was a scene of King Dordagar, obviously in his latter days given his great age, ascending the slopes of that mountain with his entire people in his wake. "Hamurbihael was built and prospered and my rule lasted for three hundred and fortysix years. It was after yet another great victory in battle over evil that I was summoned by High Councilor Gomorodon to come to the Crowned Mountain. There he and I met again, amid the great crown pillars which Gomorodon had ordered to be built before I would pass away as the mortal I ultimately was. Proceed."

Istridon now nearly ran through the halls and saw how the throne room of Dordagar was already nearing, to see where it would all lead. He saw the next scene taking place on the top of the mountain, and Gomorodon had given a shiny rock to Dordagar, while dwarves and Hadár and others looked in awe. Dordagar now cracked the small rock with his axe and a strange spirit flew into the King. It was the last scene before Istridon again stood in the great hall. "Gomorodon surprised me, as I came in the expectation that he merely wished to see me again before the end. But the High Councilor and friend Gomorodon gave me, captured inside a small star of magical essence, the powerful Merya of Jogurta, a great dragon known for his wisdom in counciling who had been a good friend of Gomorodon himself but had died during the Great Eruption. A brave young human nobleman had only recently discovered that the Merya was in the possession of a foul imp, and Gomorodon had gone himself to retrieve it. I had difficulty accepting such a gift, for it included virtual immortality and great powers, even when I had been counting my last days. But my people and others said they could not bear losing me, and Gomorodon said he knew none that he entrusted Jogurta's Merya to, and I took it. The Merya voluntarily submitted to my own will, and I still carry it, for over twelve-hundred years now."

Istridon swallowed a lump down his throat and went on back to the king's throne. He bowed deep now, but the king was much more welcoming this time and gestured for Istridon to rise. "That is the tale of my people, or at least while they were under my leadership. Nominally, I am still the King of Hamurbihael, and my people come to me for advice and hope, and they honor me. In Hamurbihael now resides a steward, as I have withdrawn and taken to a life of solitude - only these servants, who call themselves priests," Dordagar actually waved off the notion, "they make sure an old man like me can spend his time in peace and rest from his long Exodus. I do not stop them from their duties; it serves to inspire my people. Now, Istridon, I must sleep some. Go, and do not forget to visit Hamurbihael on your travels."

Istridon again bowed low in respect, and nodded in answer to his suggestion. He went out, and couldn't help but look over all the sculptures along the walls again. When he finally arrived at the exit, he saw how on the top of the mountain a great fire had been made by the priests, and Tegoddar was with them. Istridon then saw through the darkness of the night, far away in the east, seven fires in a row, each on the top of another mountain. "Those are the Seven Mountains of Hamurbihael, Istridon. Every night the priests here light a bonfire to mark that all is well, and the dwarves of Hamurbihael too signal with their own bonfires that all is well. We shall go to Hamurbihael now, as all seems at peace there. Come with me!"

[VemuKhaham]

With the seven fires of the seven mountains of Hamurbihael burning far ahead in the darkness, Tegoddar and Istridon leave the Crowned Mountain. During their journey to the eastern dwarven kingdom, the pair was silent. After some time, the fires were extinguished and the mountains became almost indistinguishable from the black skies behind them. It was then that behind the vertical ridge of Aenysia appeared the first sign of light, and the clouds were colored in a perfect blend of red, gold and purple. Slowly, the sun finally appeared when the dragon pair was already nearing the mountains.

The mountains were part of another great range that ran from the Aenysian mountain into the further reaches of the middle world. They were tall and there was snow on their tops, but from their vantage point there was no reason to suspect that anyone lived beneath them.

Tegoddar said: "Those are the seven mountains of Hamurbihael. They are named, from west to east: Sagurnac, Obad-mazûn, Hamurbihael, Motmarak, Urusil, Palodim and Sefar. They are all part of the kingdom of the dwarves, but you may soon find out that they do not always act like one. The seven mountains are each dominated by a great clan or other dominant power, undermining at times the authority of Manzir II, the current steward, the placeholder of King Dordagar, who is also the main power of Hamurbihael Hall, one of the seven Mountain Halls. Indeed, ever since King Dordagar left his people and was replaced by the stewards, the unity of the kingdom has withered, and each Hall now competes for power and riches in their own small realms. Only when truly imminent threats loom over the kingdom do the dwarves send their emissaries to King Dordagar, who with but a word restores unity for the duration of the threat. The situation has been like this for twelve hundred years. We shall visit only Hamurbihael Hall, because it is the greatest hall and also the one most hospitable to us Vilasmaira."

Hamurbihael was the tallest mountain of all seven and stood in the centre of the range. When they approached the base of the mountain, Istridon noticed a great entrance: a cave with doors, large enough for even Tegoddar to enter, though the great dragon had to walk on all fours and still bend through his knees. As such he crouched through the great entrance hall, and they were greeted by by many dwarves with great axes and heavy armor, dressed in dark blue and black. One of them, the captain of the guard, hailed them: "Hail, Tegoddar, welcome to Hamurbihael Hall! What news from Aenysia?"
"Hail Zirak, my news is Istridon, my son. I have come to show him your Hall."

With some surprise but with little further ado the guards let the two dragons in. Istridon went ahead and entered Hamurbihael Hall: a magnificent open space in the core of the mountain, supported by columns as wide as Tegoddar's legs. They were so large that houses were inside them that could be accessed by a stairway that ran around them. Other houses were accessible by smaller tunnels that left the Hall, but which were too narrow for Tegoddar to enter.

At several places inside the hall there were large buildings, such as guildhouses, storage rooms, guardhouses and finally, to the far end of the Hall, a palace built into the far wall, surrounded by a great moat of pikes and a fortified wall. Between these buildings there were marketplaces, fountains for drinking water, statues and other ornamental decorations. The marketplaces especially were very crowded, and there were several of them, each with different goods to sell, such as a for various kinds of food, tools and even one for coin exchange, with a great banking house.

Finally, there was the most crowded market of all: between four rows of much thinner pillars there was a great round building surrounded by another market: it was obviously the market for minerals, as there were dwarven miners, smiths and others there that traded in such goods as metals, gold, silver and gems. Istridon noticed on the building some very similar signs as he had seen on the great Meeting Hall of the Daïggon Order back in Aenysia, and indeed he saw men dressed in Daïggon attire; among them were elves, men and even a few Hadár. But above all others, Istridon noticed very short men, like humans but even smaller than dwarves, and they were there in great numbers; most of them were traders.

Tegoddar said: "Look, it is the Hamurbihael guildhouse of the Daïggon Order, one of many that they have in the world. Here they have one that is especially great, because Hamurbihael is the center for trade of minerals, mined by the dwarves of all the Halls but also often by the gnomes of Pogonia, who dwell at the lake to the northeast. Hamurbihael has accepted the Daïggon Order in its Hall, making it a trading hub of minerals, which are delved here and bought by the Daïggons, to be used as magical essence. Because, as you should know by now, minerals such as bronze or gold or diamonds are but little sparks and splinters of the great magical orb that created Ardulace long ago." Tegoddar pointed to some craftsmen at work on the market. "It is also why there are smiths here in Hamurbihael specialized in optimizing the magical power of minerals such as steel and iron, from which weapons are made. With great skill, such weapons can become enchanted, but magical weapons are as rare as their creators, and here in Hamurbihael, the centre of such industry, I only know of two dwarves, master Granwin and Rezariol, one the tutor of the other, who possess such skill, and they serve the Daïggon Order, meaning that they only provide for them."

Istridon noticed that here too there was a great storage for magical essence, and a mage school, with tutors and pupils, and all the things that came with such a guildhouse. He also noticed a great many guards patrolling the marketplace. Tegoddar continued: "The Daïggons seek to control and monopolize all trade on magical essence, and here they have succeeded. But there is smuggling taking place even here, to bring valuable minerals to competing mage guilds or even freelance mages. The steward of Hamurbihael has outlawed such smuggling in the interest of the guild and of the trade that makes Hamurbihael Hall the most powerful hall of the kingdom and which ensures the good relations with us Vilasmaira."

There was much yet to be seen, and some things they did go to, but Tegoddar wanted to go again before they could even visit the steward. "We have been here for long enough. The sun is already in the sky; I wish to show you Pogonia, and then the human kingdoms. But we will not linger there for long either; it is about time that I show you the outer regions."

[VemuKhaham]

For many days, weeks and even months did Tegoddar and Istridon roam the lands and skies in search of all the wonders that it revealed to them. Always Istridon wanted to linger, hoping to learn more about the many cultures and races that they all passed with such haste that Istridon became rather hopeless. Tegoddar though insisted on keeping up the pace, obviously less intrigued by far by the puny cultures of gnomes and men and even dwarves and elves, mortal races building great empires and kingdoms which he had seen rise and fall like the tidal waves. Of all the mortal kin, the races of the orcs were the least interesting to the dragon mother, and they practically ignored the foul beings with their petty tribes. Tegoddar clearly was anxious to show Istridon the world below, which was far more evil than all the orc tribes taken together. There, once more, they would see wonders that had been in this world longer than a mere decade or a century, and though they were wicked and Tegoddar detested them, they mattered. Always did Istridon fear the prospect of returning to those dark lands, especially at the pace with which they were going there. Everywhere he went, he saw the scars or the growing evil on the outskirts of the safe realm that was immediately around great Aenysia. He now was afraid to visit the Black Dam, or the many great fortresses of demon lords, or the endless slave camps of the derro and their imp masters.

But Istridon would’ve been even more afraid, could he have foreseen the fate that was in store for them. Before ever they reached the infernal world below, they ventured into the barren wastes of Shatfarzón, a land, still on the Middle World, but at its outermost rim, which was so close to the inferno below that the heath made it impossible for mortal men to live there.

They flew over many dunes of ever shifting sand when they were suddenly greatly shocked by an enormous whip-like, yellow being sprang up from the ground, which they had not seen, and it hit Tegoddar in mid-air. As fast as it had come, the thing went down again, but Tegoddar was in terrible agony. There was a great wound in his left thigh, from which there seeped a strange black gooey substance.

Then Istridon was equally shocked to see before them one of the great sand dunes move, shift very rapidly, grow and finally, reveal the great head of an enormous yellow dragon, who had been lying there in ambush, under a thin layer of sand, his scale colour totally absorbed by its surroundings. Before long, the entire desert seemed to shift, and the shape of the dragon rose to its fullest; it was entirely yellow and very slender, with a long, thin neck and tail, the latter which was tipped by a fierce curved claw, from which dripped blood and the black substance. Its wings were vast but very light. It’s beady eyes were black as ink, but still betrayed a malicious spirit. On a whole, the dragon was almost as large as Tegoddar, and the two behemoths now faced each other, obviously as enemies.

The great yellow dragon smiled maliciously and spoke first: “Tegoddar, you are defeated. You should’ve known better than to come here, in these empty lands; a more appropriate place for a dragon to hide besides the eternal wastes below, you will not easily find.”
Tegoddar, who was struggling to keep in the air, groaned and responded, and her voice sounded desperate, like Istridon had not heard it before: “Kryopta, you treacherous worm, how much longer before you will be responsible for the death of all noble dragons that are left in this world?”
“Well, word of your journey has reached all the corners of Ardulace, and it was too good an opportunity to let pass. With your demise, I will catch two flies in one stroke…” Kryopta’s beady eyes now turned to look directly at the endlessly small Istridon, who seemed to be stiff from fear. Tegoddar too gasped in terror at these words.
But then, the great dragon that Tegoddar still was leaped forward with all her remaining strength and bit at Kryopta to tear its flesh from its thin neck. But she was not fast enough, as Kryopta deftly avoided the attack and once more whipped with his long tail at Tegoddar, this time barely beneath his throat. The claw tore through the dragon’s chest before releasing again, and Tegoddar now staggered.

Istridon could only look as his mother fell to the earth. The poison worked quickly and Tegoddar was too weak to continue fighting. Instead, she turned toward Istridon and with her last breath, the ancient dragon said to him: “Run! Hide! GO!”

Istridon finally stirred, released from his stiff stasis of fear, but saw how Kryopta was already upon him. The great beast smiled, knowing full well that Istridon was too late to escape. At first, Istridon meant to run, but then he felt something inside him that was aroused by something from outside: the Merya of Tegoddar was behind him, released from her corpse. It’s presence strengthened Istridon’s own bond with his own divine soul, and without warning, all of a sudden, Istridon disappeared.