Becoming One ...

Thousands of years past, across ages come and gone, the world as we know it today did not exist. As I wander through our realm and see each different race, I am constantly reminded of everything that has been altered. Of the races today, only three can be traced to before the Great Change: the Frontacians, the Psycians, and the Dragons, though not all are as they were.

Early in the Second Age, the Frontacians had created a vast and powerful empire, one by one conquering races weaker than they. By the third age, all the other races who had once flourished on the many large Isles of the North Sea had been extinguished or driven into slavery. The most formidable resistance had been put up by the relatively peaceful Psycians, people legendary for their psionic abilities. Eventually, however, the Psycian homeland isle crumbled under the heavily populated Frontacian forces. Only those Psycians who had been away from their homelands on expeditions remained alive.

With the world under their control, the Frontacians were free to turn towards exploration. Many groups settled the newly claimed lands and built up many large city-states within the empire. Two such city-states were built on the continent presently home to the Spur, north of the Great Divide. The large city-state built at the base of the mountains of the Great Divide was named Penthania, the Living Jewel, the city that always shined. The second group of Frontacians built their civilization along the continent's northern coastline. This became the city-state of Arcania, City of Magick.

While the Frontacians were busy conquering their known world, the Dragons remained apart and enjoyed their relatively peaceful lives. In those days, Dragons didn't have multiple stages as they do today. The young, in a time when they still came from eggs, hatched into smaller versions of the adults. (the Psycians didn't discover the properties of dragon essence until much later).

The peace, however, was short-lived. The Penthanians quickly learned why their neighboring city-state had been named Arcania. The city itself had been built upon a giant vein of crystal and became an awesome nexus of magickal energy. The crystal deposit acted like a conduit and enhanced their already powerful magicks. The Penthanians had been some of the most powerful mages of the entire Frontacian Empire, but were now second to the might of the Arcanians. It angered them further that the Arcanians wished to leave behind their history of warfare and conquest and chose to use their magicks for peaceful purposes. To the Penthanians, that line of thinking was almost alien, and only seen as proof of the weakness of the Arcanians. They believed that no one with such a weakness should be allowed to control such powerful magick.

Thus began the Penthanian War. The Penthanians struck Arcania forcefully and without warning. The Arcanians, however, were quick to react and used their powerful magicks to defend rather than retaliate. This tactic irritated the Penthanians to no end. They were using their most powerful offensive magicks and very seldom did any damage to the city or its people. More often than not, their magick had little or no effect.

Then it happened. Driven to the point of obsession, the Penthanians attempted something never before seen in the world. They unleashed the Unmagick. For the first time since the rise of the empire a whole age before, the mages tried to control something more powerful than they could understand, and while they had targeted the Arcanians, every living creature within the "Unmagick zone," a very large area, was touched by it.

Those Arcanians within the city were the first to experience the horrid transformation. They lost their humanoid-Frontacian form and took on an Arachnid appearance. Their once omnivorous teeth became deadly fangs and the jewel that once decorated their palms became a spinneret which shot a crystalline web. It wasn't the physical transformation, however, which affect them the most. Instead, when they were hit by the Unmagick, they suddenly and violently lost the ability to use or command runes or magick, even though their understanding of it remained intact. For a people who ate, slept, breathed, and lived magick, that was the most terrible form of rape one could perform. Unable to cope with the loss, their once orderly peaceful minds became a maddened warp of chaos. They became what we know today as the Arachnians.

The Penthanians, trying to control this unpredictable force, caught the backlash of their actions. The jewels in their hands and foreheads grew, slowly overtaking their bodies, insinuating themselves into the very bloodstream, completely transforming their flesh into a hard, crystalline substance.

At the same time the Penthanians had been planning their final move, a large group of young Arcanians were exploring an uncharted area some leagues south of their home city, collecting whatever they could so that it could be studied and categorized. This is a point of history that is somewhat blurred, the only recount given by an old Dragon who had witnessed the change and had it scribed several years later:

"They were within the bowl, the open sand-bottom portion of the Great Lair where the very young Dragons and egg clutches were kept in warmth so the mothers could gather while keeping a watchful eye on all the offspring together. No one saw anything at first. Then suddenly one of the mother Dragon's furious bugle cry echoed across the valley. There were dozens of them, scurrying about the warm sands like a swarm of ants. I had been about to char them to the last, when I noticed something that chilled my veins... They carried with them several of our eggs which had soon been due to hatch.

"Before anyone could think to do anything else, a brilliant flash engulfed the entire Lair, blinding me completely. When at last I regained my sight, the scene before me burned itself into my mind for all of eternity. Scattered across the sands were hundreds of tiny gems mixed with shards of shattered dragons eggs. I forced myself to take a closer look. There was neither sign of the invaders nor the dragonettes, but there were several little creatures, three distinct types, which moved across shards and gems alike. The black, spider-like creatures at the edge of the bowl wreathed about in the sands, their appendages clasping their heads. Movement towards the center of the bowl caught my eye. This creature was no longer than one of my claws, and I noticed delicate silver wings which curved up from its back. The creature looked up at me with startling ruby-red eyes...eyes filled with tears. In her minute hands was a jewel.

"Unable to comprehend the significance, the soft keening of one of the mother Dragons distracted my attention. 'Those are our babies,' she said. I looked back again at the masses of shards and cold fear gripped my throat. Within the center of each mass of shards lay a tiny being. I nearly dismissed the suggestion until I looked into the tiny eyes of one of them and felt its faint link. My heart sank..."

Those Arcanians who had not been in contact with any of the Dragon eggs experienced the same transformation and stripping of magick as did those within the city. The other Arcanians, however, the ones who had been holding the eggs at the time the Unmagick hit, were affected, but experienced a completely different transformation. Somehow, they and the Dragons within the eggs they carried were interaffected by the Unmagick. Among other noticeable changes, those Arcanians gained wings like the Dragons had once been born with and a mental link similar to that of the Dragons which worked among those like themselves. The Dragons, in turn, assimilated the humanoid life forms which had characterized the Arcanians. One theory is that the magick inherent to all dragons combined with that of the Arcanians deflected the Unmagick so that they didn't get the full effect, but more of a side-effect. Not one of the Dragon eggs that had not been in contact with an Arcanian had survived to hatching, and no Dragon afterwards was able to produce a fertile egg.

At first, the older Dragons tried to shun and deny this new form of offspring, but the mothers protected them fiercely. The new form of Arcanians, call Secians or "Jewel-eyed," tried to return to their home in the wake of those who had become Arachnians and fled. They were quickly driven out. The newly transformed Arachnians were filled with such hatred for the tiny secians, who could still control the runes, that the tiny beings were lucky to escape with their lives.

Unable to understand the hatred which had overcome their former race, they returned almost without hope to the Dragons. The Dragons, remembering that it was because of these people that their young had become what they were, also tried to drive the foot-tall beings away. Some of the mothers, however, noticed that these little, child-like people had an immediate taking to their own young (some say that a portion of their psyche was exchanged with the Dragons in addition to physical characters) and were better suited for caring for the delicate young than their own massive claws. After much arguing, the other Dragons finally agreed to allow them to stay. The Secians felt horrible about what had become of the world because of the hunger for power and destruction which had overcome the Penthanians, and vowed to never harm another creature for all of eternity. They also pledged their services to the Dragons as a payment for the transformation which they blamed on themselves.

As the young Dragons grew, they formed close friendships with these little Secians. Just when the older Dragons were about to admit that their long-lived race was winding towards extinction, the first of the young Dragons began its transition to the second stage*. The mother, panicked by the distress in her son's link, couldn't figure out how to relieve his pain. At a point near death, one of the Secians who had been the dragon's closest friend flew in nearly out of control and began healing him. The young Dragon came back from certain death, not only as himself, but slightly more Draconian in appearance. For several days, the Secian refused to leave the dragon's side and the dragon, in turn, became fiercely protective of the Secian. Thus formed the first bondmates. The same procedure was used when the other dragons began their transformations. All but one of the Dragons survived the transition. These dragons didn't blame the Secians for the transformations of their race, but instead, were thankful that the Secians were there to aid them in their survival. In gratitude, the new generation of Dragons swore to always be the protectors of the "Little Ones." The Dragons once again had a future.

Through the ages, the bonds between Dragons and Secians have become legendary. A Dragon does not have to seek out a Secian to bond with, but if they don't, they take the chance of dying permanently or losing their sanity. Even though one chooses to bond, placing themselves and their chosen in danger of dying permanently, it is worth the risk.

There has not been a failed bonding in over 1000 years. However, to avoid sure death or loss of sanity, all Dragons need to bond. Most Secians who are not already bonded will happily accept.

I have noticed a question regarding the changing of Secians. If a Chosen has left the realm for some reason and a bond has not yet been established, yes the Secian can be changed. Any unbonded Secian who heals a Dragon during the later stages of the Change becomes the bondmate of the Dragon. If the Chosen is not around while the Dragon is in the later stages of the Change, the first Secian who comes in to heal the Dragon becomes that Dragon's bondmate. Any other Secian who tries to heal the Dragon after the bond has been established may come to great harm. In extremely rare cases, there is a narrow chance that if the bondmate has been gone for a long period of time, the bond may weaken to a point where a new bond can be established with a new mate. Keep in mind that only the Chosen may heal the staging Dragon otherwise it may cost the lives of both the Dragon and the Chosen. The third party will feel a backlash and may come to harm as well.

The process of staging is a very painful experience for the Dragon. It is because of the Little Ones that the pain is bearable and does not kill us or drive us insane. My Brothers and Sisters, I urge you one and all to take care of the Little Ones. Cause them no harm and protect them from others who would bring them harm.

[Please Note: It wasn't until hundreds of years later, at the advent of the Psi wars did the dragons recognize an unexpected advantage in the staging process. It is a well known fact that both the Psycians and the Frontacians need special drugs to keep them sane because of a fault in their DNA. Before the Frontacians destroyed the Psycian homeland, the Psycians had cultivated a herb that would produce the drug, but that herb could be found no where else in the world. When the Psycian homeland was discovered by the Frontacians (it is rumored that the Dragon's were the ones who gave away the location of the hidden isle) and subsequently destroyed, the herb, too, was forever lost. The Psycians were forced to find a substitute, which they did...dragon essence. As it turned out, dragon essence was virtually useless if it came from a first or second stage dragon. Only the older dragons could produce the essence needed for the drug. Thus, the staging process came to serve as a protection for the young dragons until they could readily defend themselves.]

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The Great Dragon Hunt ...

Turaniel says, "Do any here know the tale of the Great Dragonhunt? Would that be a suitable tale to tell?"

Santius nods.

Santius says, "I've never heard that tale."

Xerex smiles.

Rellian says, "That is one I don't think has been told of late, I am sure it would be a good one."

Rellian smiles.

Rellian says, "Well, no regular singers have come forth by now."

Glen nods.

Rellian sits down.

Turaniel says, "Should I begin, then?"

Rellian says, "Whenever you are ready Turaniel"

Turaniel nods.

Turaniel stands up.

Maldraedior says, "oh godie a story"

Glen smiles fondly at SoftwalKeet

(Turaniel clears her throat and begins to weave her tale...)

Maldraedior is looking at you.

Turaniel says, "This Age we live in is called This Age of Ours. It has no name of yet, for its name shall only be known when it has drawn to a close."

Turaniel says, "The age before this is known as the Age of Revelation, and it is during this age that this tale takes place."

Turaniel says, "After the War between the Frontacian and Psycian Empires, and after the fall of the Frontacian Empire, when much of the world was in unrest."

Turaniel says, "As you may know, both Frontacian and Psycian require certain potions... certain drugs... to keep themselves well and sane."

Maldraedior growls.

Turaniel says, "For both races, these drugs require Essence taken from Dragonkynd. And difficult it often is to take this Essence by any means other than force."

Turaniel smiles sadly at Maldraedior.

(SoftwalKeet twitches uncomfortably)

Turaniel says, "In the year 1000 of the Age of Revelation, an Arachnian alchemist named Rhrangkhorre Angerschilde organized a great Dragonhunt."

Turaniel says, "A great mass of hunters he gathered for this task."

Turaniel says, "Sanene and Go-blin, Oog-ra and Thugian, multitudes came under the Arachnian's banner, looking for battle and wealth."

Turaniel says, "It is said that the Anthian Wing he had gathered darkened the sun as they flew overhead."

Turaniel shakes her head from side to side.

Turaniel says, "This great mass of warriors traveled over the land until they came to a large Gathering of Dragonkynd in a secluded range of mountains."

Turaniel says, "Silently they crept, unnoticed by the Dragons, for the Great Ones were certain that none knew where the Gathering was to be found."

Turaniel says, "On a signal from Rhrangkhorre, the hunters attacked."

Turaniel says, "The air was filled with the gleaming of weapon, the shimmering of rune."

Turaniel says, "Bravely the Dragonkynd fought the invaders, with claw and

tooth and magick..."

Turaniel shakes her head from side to side.

(Maldraedior puffs out his chest)

Turaniel says, "But it was no use. The Great Ones were outnumbered, and trapped where they had thought themselves safe."

Turaniel sighs.

Turaniel says, "When the Sun hid her face behind the edge of the world, and the cold Moon cast her cold eye upon the scene..."

Turaniel says, "... not a Dragon still lived to meet her pale gaze."

Turaniel says, "Covered with the blood of the noble Great Ones was the plain, the once-peaceful valley."

Turaniel says, "And it is said that for days and days the hunters worked, gathering the Essence from the fallen Dragons, leaving no drop behind so that the Great Ones could rise again."

Turaniel says, "The fires that the hunters cast for their work lit the area like it was midday."

Turaniel says, "Half of what Rhrangkhorre and his hunters gathered, he sold to those who needed it, the Frontacians and Psycians."

Turaniel says, "That Essence has been known as the Golden Reserve, and has helped to sustain the races for over a thousand years."

Turaniel says, "Some say that only now does the Golden Reserve grow empty, but I am not one to know such things."

Turaniel says, "To think that half of what was gathered from this slaughter could last so many people for so many years..."

Turaniel shudders.

Turaniel says, "The other half of the Essence, the alchemist Rhrangkhorre kept for himself, and none know for sure to what evil purpose he put this Essence."

Turaniel says, "Still, many say that Rhrangkhorre still lives, hundreds of years past when he should have died. Perhaps it is the Essence which sustains him. I do not know."

Turaniel shakes her head from side to side.

Turaniel says, "Yet there is one other part to this tale, which I hesitate to say, for though this tale is dark, these words are perhaps the darkest."

Turaniel says, "Wonder you how the hunters could come upon such a great Gathering, unknown and unnoticed?"

Maldraedior stands up.

Turaniel says, "How they could even find a Gathering supposedly safe in the mountains?"

Turaniel sighs.

Glen nods.

Turaniel says, "The hunters had a guide. A guide who knew well the range to which he guided the hoarde, and the secret place of the Gathering."

Turaniel stares sadly downward a moment.

Turaniel says, "One of their own kind. A Dragon himself."

Santius raises an eyebrow.

Turaniel says, "His name is forgotten, and some would say blessedly so."

Turaniel says, "Perhaps the traitor still lives, yet surely no Great One would accept him as one of their own."

Turaniel says, "And that is the tale of the Great Dragonhunt of 1000 AR."

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A Study of Dragon Names ...

All Races have a unique, and normally interesting tradition in naming their young. Some races take a very simple approach to this and some are steeped in long traditions and is a mystery to the other races.

Some races seam to take a rather random approach to naming their young, Humans for example. Some are named for an ancestor where others are named solely for the sound of their name with the parent's sir name, as they call it.

Other races, like Dragons have a very specific way of naming their young though they sometimes sound more random then even humans. And Dragons being as aloof and private as they are make this a hard study.

The most mysterious are the Arachnians. Maybe only because their names sound like a series of clicks from their mandibles and hisses and they can't directly translate this to the common language. Also, to get one to sit and try to explain is no more then the one doing the study waiting to get webbed and bit. Perhaps it would be safe if I were to conduct the study from separate rooms with the aid of Psi.

I digress. Dragons, as I was saying, from what I can tell, take a very long time to name their young. The naming process starts sometimes before the young draco is even born. I have heard it said the Great dragons or Imperials start to get a feeling for the name, maybe just one syllable before the Draco hatches. And the name can be formed along the way not to be completed well after the Draco is up walking around. There are other times when there is no impression of the name until the Draco is born and the name comes all at once.

Some parts, say one or two syllables of the name, for some dragons, are formed in conection to their ancestors, but never the complete name, being that each dragon has his or her own individual essence.

It is somehow in the formation of their essence that the name is created. And that is where the biggest mystery comes in and where the idea of it truly being a name as we would call it, is lost. Dragons do not use these identities as names as we do. They identify each other buy sight, smell, a feeling and thought. The idea of a name being solely a title of identity to be used for the convenience of others escapes them.

It is not my intent to belittle their names or even suggest that their names have little meaning. Their names seam to be as an integrated part of them as a wing or leg being it is some how derived from their very essence. It could be, because the name is of their essence, that as they grow stronger as they age, their name grows stronger. A name to a dragon is not something to be prideful in alone. It would be the same to them to be prideful in themselves though most any dragon you ever would talk to would say they are not subject to pride, Guess that is their great ego's point of view.

One of the most interesting points of dragon names, perhaps its most useful, is that because how dragon identify each other, by smell, thought and feeling (I am guessing they get a certain kind of feel from another dragons essence when within a certain distance). Dragons do not really seam to need to use their names. However, If a dragon were to refer to a dragon, which is unknown to another, by that dragons name (in a way by their essence) when the dragon who did not know the one referred to meets that dragon for the first time, they would know who they were. If this was a bit hard to follow for someone reading this, say the possible Thugian; Dragon A is talking with Dragon B and dragon A speaks of dragon C, who dragon B has never met, by dragon C's "name". When dragon B first meets dragon C, dragon B will know immediately who dragon C is, without having to first be introduced.

This is all taken from direct observation and from what I a can hear spoken about it or what little is already written. Hard as this information is to come by and to understand, one can only assume there may be more to it then this.

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The Winged Birds An Allegorical Tale ...

Author: The Bright Amethyst, Relawen

submitted: The 23rd day of the 2nd month in the year 320. (6.12.05)

In a land not far from here, a flock of birds live among the lush foliage and colorful blossoms of a meadow. The birds, too, are brightly colored, their wings reflecting a single brilliant shade. These birds are aware of their beauty, and spend endless days preening and strutting in front of the others. One particular golden-winged bird enjoys shouting the name of his color so everyone with ears can hear. Another bird, with wings of silver, chose instead to tell every being he came across, "I am magnificent." A smaller bird sitting high in a tree chuckles at these things; she does not swagger as they do, and oft goes unnoticed.

One day a fox came prowling for food, and heard in the distance a voice shouting the word "gold" over and over. His curiosity piqued, he followed the sound to the meadow where the birds lived. Finding the noisy bird, and watching him preen in front of the others, the fox thought to himself, "Surely such a bird who boasts like that must taste the best of them all." But as he crept forward, the silver-winged bird caught his attention by claiming "I am magnificent" to his fellow birds. "Hmm," thought the fox, "maybe he speaks the truth. If so, *he* is the tastiest treat." After a bit of planning, the gluttonous fox decided to trap all the birds and eat them, from the tastiest down to the plainest. He burst into the meadow, sending the birds screeching and seeking cover.

They were swift, but he was clever, and within minutes he had trapped the flock in a corner of the meadow, where the vines hung too low to take flight. Hungrily, the fox prepared to gorge himself. Just then, he caught a flurry of movement from the corner of his eye. Glancing up he saw the smaller bird, who had been watching from the trees, soaring high above him. She darted above the vines and spread her wings. A brilliant shade of amethyst lit up the area, bathing the other birds and the fox below with a gentle violet glow. The other birds stared up in awe, having never seen such a scintillating hue before that seemed to rain down on them from above.

The fox stared up too, thinking, "Surely this is the choicest of all the birds, and must taste better than all the others combined!" Abandoning the flock he had cornered, he raced after the amethyst-winged bird. Heedless of his surroundings, he craned his neck upwards so he wouldn't lose sight of his meal. Knowing this, the bird led him deeper and deeper into the forest until they came to a river. His eyes and ears trained on his prize, the fox never heard the rushing rapids or saw the spray of water. Without warning—splash!—head over tail he went, tumbling into the river. The swift current carried away his yelps of surprise and anger, taking him far away from the flock. He arrived on a distant bank, drenched and without a bird in sight.

When the bird returned, she was met by the others. They could not understand: if her wings were so magnificent, why had she not boasted and shouted such, or prance around like the others? With a smile, she said the answer was simple—"True magnificence need not boast, or shout it to the sky, or prance about like silly ponies. The truly magnificent simply *know* they are magnificent, and that is sufficient for all."

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**Ancient Dragon Lore**

This parchment has been hastily torn out of the Lore books.

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