I had heard the footsteps and whispers long before they called out to me, but they could not have known that, so I acted surprised when I looked up to see them running toward me. I smiled happily and splashed my face with the cool, clear water from the fountain, taking a few quick sips to refresh myself.

The children of Asdune gathered around me, asking about my travels and shouting out my name.They laughed and danced, as excited children often do, pawing at my dusty clothes.

The eldest of the group, a boy named Christophe, spoke out above the din.“Wanderer, a group of adventurers passed through here a few days ago.”

“What did they want?” I asked.

“They said they were searching for a dragonstone.They headed west.”

I nodded, understanding.“They headed toward Thyawr.”

“The ocean?” he asked.“Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Aye.Very.”

A little girl tugged at my pant-leg to get my attention.“Why they go there?”

“There are rumors that there is a lost island somewhere out in Thyawr, and on that island lies the DragonStone.”

“But what is the DragonStone?” Christophe asked.He was curious by nature, and had the touch of an adventurer about him.I would not be surprised if wanderlust overcame him soon, and he left this small village in search of riches and excitement.

“That is a very old legend,” I started, sitting down on the edge of the fountain.

The children gathered at my feet, sitting around me in a tight circle, waiting in anticipation for my story.I smiled again; I had forgotten the feeling of having an audience on my long travels, and the role of a storyteller was one I had not played in a long time, not since I had last visited Asdune. For one such as I, who had spent so much of his life entertaining others, there is not greater thrill than performing again.

“Long ago, well before Aden, Prexion and all the other Cities were anything more than small villages like this one, there was the golden city of Brenar, legendary for its wealth and prosperity.For years, the Lord of Brenar, Asnor, ruled the city in peace; he was a just and generous ruler: his people adored him.

“The legends say it was on the night of the autumn harvest, an evening of great celebration, that the fire appeared on the horizon.It moved through the sky, growing brighter and

hotter as it approached the city, and the normally cool autumn winds blew as hot as any desert breeze and the fire continued onward. Fire spread across the horizon as the ancient forest surround Brenar was engulfed in flames, lighting the night sky as though it were day.It was then that the dragon landed within the city.

“The dragon, unlike any creature which roams these lands, was a devilish creature with great power and a love of destruction.His very soul burns with unholy flames of hell itself, so they say.He is not of flesh and bone, but made of melted rock and liquid iron, and instead of hardened scale like most dragons, his skin is a molten gold that sets anything he touches aflame.This is the evil that set upon Brenar that night: Corin-Mur, the Flame Wreaper.The beast rampaged through the city, destroying everything, and leaving little but ashes in his wake.

“Asnor, once a great warrior, donned his magical armor and once again took up his sword, Nightshard; the ice-enchanted blade crafted from solid obsidian is said to be the only weapon able to kill the fierce dragon, for what other weapon could harm a beast of fire and lava save a freezing blade made from the same thing?

“Asnor stood ready as Corin-Mur ripped into the palace, and the two fought at length, but the great king, even with his mystical sword, was no match for the demon dragon.Corin-Mur retrieved his prize and left the blazing city behind to burn to the ground.According to the legends Asnor’s sword still lies in the ancient ruins of the Brenar’s palace, waiting for the chance to destroy the dragon and avenge its master.”

The children murmured to each other in hushed voice, intrigued by my tale.Christophe, however, looked at me and ask, “What was Corin-Mur after?”

I smiled.“The DragonStone, my lad.He sought the DragonStone which Asnor had guarded for many years.”

“And Corin-Mur still has it?”

“My story continues, if you wish to hear it,” I started.Their ears perked up and their eyes locked onto me; I had my answer.“Few survived the destruction of Brenar, but those who did sought refuge in Bethaven.When word of Corin-Mur’s attack spread, a huge bounty was offered for his death and the return of the DragonStone.Many adventures, drawn by the promise of wealth and power, went searching for the beast: most gave up, never finding his lair, the rest never returned.

“For many generations, Corin-Mur went unfound, and was long forgotten until four adventures wandered into Bethaven: Caimen, a mage of wondrous power; Giga, a warrior of great strength; Kells, the priestess of the dark ancient woods; and Archinus, whose skill with a sword had no equals.After speaking awhile with the Oracle, they set off again, searching for the elusive lair.I have heard it said that they searched for years before they found the hellish place. Legends tell of mighty demons and ancient beasts roaming the accursed Island of Thyawr, but the heroes made it through.It was deep within the Sandor Mountain that they discovered the devil-dragon’s lair but the beast was not within.The four heroes, realizing the gift fate had given them, searched the cavern for the DragonStone, hoping to use it’s great power against Corin-Mur, but the DragonStone was nowhere to be found.

“Corin-Mur returned to find them in his lair, and he attacked without hesitation.The battle lasted many days; the skills of the greatest warriors of all time were put to an unparalleled test.They were losing strength, but Corin-Mur fought on without fail and showed no sign on fatigue or weakness.The heroes had little time left, and little hope for victory, and they knew it.Giga, who swore he would not die without fighting to the last, rushed the wyrm and slashed deep with his Sword of War, cutting through the dragon’s molten flesh and down to the beast’s heart.He then fell to the creature’s razor claws.

“But the slash left an opening, and Kells responded, unleashing all of her power, her very life, in one last spell.The dragon was blasted back, sent reeling across his lair, and Kells fell lifeless to the floor.

“Both Caimen and Archinus saw it then, saw the DragonStone.Through the great wound in the dragon’s chest, they saw the stone sitting were his heart should be, pulsating with light, beating like a true heart. Archinus launched himself at the dragon, and with one deft slash, cut the stone from the wyrm’s body and tossed it to Caimen.The dragon’s fanged maw crushed down upon Archinus, ending his life, but in his dying, he had given Caimen some chance of victory.The wyrm turned to Caimen then, and reared back his head, preparing to unleash his deadly fire breath.Caimen, with theDragonStone in hand, began casting his last spell, hoping it was enough to finish off the demon beast.

“No one knows what happened then, not even Caimen, if the legends are true.There was a great flash of light from the DragonStone, and a deafening explosion rocked the lair.When Caimen awoke, the DragonStone was gone and the devil dragon had solidified to cold stone and hard gold, his hellish fires extinguished.But so too were the other heroes dead, destroyed at the hands of Corin-Mur.

“Caimen fell to his knees, crying out in anguish!He had obtained true power from the DragonStone, he could feel the power coursing through his body, but his friends were dead.He wished with all his heart and soul for the power to return them to life.A faint mist filled the dragon’s lair, and slowly, one by one, the three dead heroes began to stir.Not only had the DragonStone empowered Caimen with immortality, but also at his whim, he was able to impart that gift on his friends.They awakened as gods.

“This is the tale of the DragonStone, an old and forgotten legend.”

“So, they never got the DragonStone?” one of the children asked.

I shook my head.“No, it was gone.”

“What happened to Corin-Mur?”

“The devil dragon still lives.I have heard that the strange mist revived him as well, but I do not believe that.I believe that after Caimen invoked the power of the DragonStone to destroy the dragon, before Corin-Mur had lost his flame completely, he somehow managed to retrieve the stone, managed to place it back in his body.In time, the great power of the stone rekindled his life, and slowly, ever since, he has been rebuilding his fire.I fear that, all too soon, Corin-Mur will make his return, ravaging the lands as he did on the days of old.”

The children shuddered at the thought, but it did not take long before they were laughing and chattering amongst themselves again.

“Where did you learn these tales, Wanderer?” Christophe asked after most of the other children had left.

“My mentor, the great bard Chiasmus, told me these things. The DragonStone was his passion, and he spend much of his life learning the legends and hunting for the long-lost Sandor Mountains.”

“Did he ever find them?”

I shrugged.“I have not heard from him for many years now. I do not know where he has gotten off to; maybe he did find the mountains, and Corin-Mur.Maybe he is still searching.I do not know.”“Do you seek the stone?”

I chuckled.“No, my young friend; my heart yearns for wandering, not searching.I leave that to others.”He smiled at me and rushed off to join the other children.

I stood up, stretching my legs, when I heard a familiar voice calling to me.“Quin Silverbane, where are you off to now?”

“Only to the bar, Valencia, my dear, to see what Taishi has in stock.I think I shall stay in Asdune tonight.”

“And tomorrow?” she asked.

“When the morrow comes, I shall leave once more. Wanderlust bites at my soul, and I must follow where it leads.There are so many legends still to uncover and so many stories left to tell."