Westward Ho!

Brodha continued west over the lands of Purterra, Lireon, and Hayne, then Southwest over Krogon. He saw the western mountains erupting on the horizon. Setting his sight on a mountain standing statuesque on the border of Krogon, Nhovarin, and Anen, Brodha landed atop it.

He was repulsed by the power seeking humans. Power seeking that resulted in his kind nearly being exterminated. He wondered if there was another of his kind out there. The journey here resulted in none. The distance was great, stopping only once to feast upon a bison. Now, Brodha must rest and think.

He needed to respond to these driven conquerors. He knew that Oranthuz was chief behind these acts. Perhaps, if the sorcerer were out of the way, Terridia would return to the days of old, when men and dragons lived at peace. Or perhaps, the world would never return.

“Oranthuz is as ancient as I am,” Brodha stated to himself. “There is something non-human about him. He must have tapped into an elixir of life. It is unheard of for a human to live so long.”

Brodha huffed as he lay down for a rest. As he did, steam rose from his nostrils rising in the air, before vanishing above the trees.

Should he seek someone to help him in this quest. That’s when something caught his eye. There below him was a village, which he failed to notice while flying. It was most likely because the town appeared carved from the very mountain. In the midst was a fountain. He could see someone in a glittering gown there.

Brodha lay still. Perhaps those below hadn’t seen him. Most likely, that was wishful thinking for something as large as Brodha. Inside, Brodha chastised himself for not seeing the town before carelessly landing above it.

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