and lo, the Vanara came into the Firmament, born of treachery and hope, and from them sprang dragons and god-fire …

“Your kind are rare in my part of the world,” Hali said while stirring the campfire.

A deep rumble passing for laughter issued from the dragon’s throat.  “Tyrnavalle is more to our liking.  It is less settled, which we prefer.  Your kind can be so … aggressive.”

Hali remembered the recent battle with the savage bronze wyrm.  “That’s not unique to humanity.”

Miramani scuttled close to the fire and drew her knees to her chest.  “When this one was a child, her gra … the Bardalla told stories of dragons taking wing over the steppes.  This one used to sit on his lap and ask how dragons came to the world, but not even he knew whence they came.”

The dragon shifted its immense bulk and spread its wings wide, catching the embers rising from the fire on a shield of silver scales.  “The tale you’ve asked for is no simple one, spear maiden.  Wyrmkind is neither Elder Race nor God nor mortal, we are dragons.  Ours is the story of Norath’s Doom and the story of the Vanara.  It is long and wondrous story, full of hope and love, and treachery and despair.  Do you truly wish to hear it?”

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