Prologue

The Dragon Tooth Mountains on Andor, where time is not reckoned by the movement of mortals.

A doorway slid open in the very fabric of time, revealing a dark starry night framed by a bright sunny day. A moment later two entities stepped through, one man and one woman. The doorway slid shut revealing a lovely glen in the background and a pathway leading upward, and ending at a blank cliff wall.

"It feels good to be home," Karith exclaimed, breathing deeply.

"You know you have never actually been here before, right?" Mann chuckled and then kissed her cheek.

A memory filled his thoughts and he frowned. A frown that was not lost on Karith.

"Fine! I have memories of this being home," Karith countered, and then added. "What is wrong?"

"I thought that once we had returned that I would feel the link with Dana, but I do not."

"How could you? That bond died when she died. Remember you are the you of the future, the you that outlived Dana by only the gods know how long."

"And yet our link did not die," Mann countered, pointing back and forth between them. "Even before you assimilated Tanith there was something there."

"As I have always told you, Wyrms mate once and death is not an end, merely an obstacle," Karith reminded him, stroking his cheek. "An obstacle that we overcame."

"I know, it is just regret and remorse, I will get over it."

"Good, come, there are things I want to show you," Karith declared moving up the path.

"Should we not wait for Reg?" Mann asked, continuing to process the feelings of loss.

"Yes, I suppose you are right," Karith conceded, and stopped before returning to his side. "We have waited this long a few more moments will not matter."

They waited a good part of an hour, measured by the movement of the sun across the sky. He was starting to get worried when Caledor interrupted his thought.

"My Lord, TimeKeeper comes," Caledor declared.

Both Karith and Mann turned to see a different doorway slide open in the very same fabric of time, revealing a dark starry night framed by the same bright sunny day. A moment later a man stepped through, and the doorway slid shut revealing the lovely glen in the background and the pathway that Mann and Karith were standing on.

"Mann, wait!" Reg exclaimed, stepping forward and holding his hand out palm forward in the universal sign to stop. "TimeKeeper says that we need to move forward in time three years. That something important is happening, or will happen, to change the time-line and that we need to move to that time. Somehow your arrival has triggered changes in the flow of time."

"Caledor?" Mann asked, grasping the sword's hilt.

"My Lord, TimeKeeper is correct, there are changing events that will undoubtedly require our intervention in the future. I can sense the scales beginning to move out of balance and yet they should not be. They have not moved enough to be an issue now but perhaps they will be in the future. We should do as TimeKeeper requests."

"All right Reg, we will follow you forward," Mann announced. "Will you open a gate?"

"Mann, you and Karith go ahead, there are things TimeKeeper wishes to show me. I will meet you here, three years from now."

Mann nodded and had Caledor open a gateway that he and Karith then stepped through. The gateway closed behind them, leaving Reg standing on the pathway.

"My Lord, Lord DeathBringer requests an audience," Timekeeper announced.

"Did he happen to mention why?"

"No, My Lord."

"All right, let us go visit."

Reg had TimeKeeper open a gateway for them and then he entered as well. The gateway closed behind him leaving the path empty.

Somewhere in the Northern Wastelands, where the passage of time ceased to matter.

The Northern Wastelands were once lush plains, beautiful vales, and clear crisp streams before the Great War between Tarran and Elfen forces desecrated it. Truth be told, most of the desecration was at the hands of the Tarran's allies, the Thangdaemons. Now the land was dead, burnt black from great battles and tainted by the spilled blood of both sides. Not much grew there, nothing healthy or nourishing for sure. Farther north from the mountains the land was not nearly as devastated, although there the land was more tundra and permafrost and supported few species.

The shrill cry of a winged reptilian hunter pierced the silence of the landscape as a small wyvernling spied a scrawny rabbit near a small mound. The stricken rabbit tried to flee but its snared leg prevented it from finding shelter. The young wyvern circled the rabbit once before tucking in its wings and diving down, talons outstretched in preparation of snagging the meal. As the talons sunk into flesh a thick staff swung upward, out from the mound of earth, striking the reptile across the neck, snapping its spine and killing it instantly. Silence returned to the area as the mound shifted and a cloaked, bipedal form rose up and swung the staff again for good measure.

The cloaked shape made short work of field dressing the wyvernling and wrapped the meat before packing it in a nearby rucksack. The figure picked up the scrawny carcass of the dead rabbit and packed it away as well. Hoisting the pack up by the straps, he slipped it on, retrieved his staff, and began the long trek back to the hovel he called home.

When Tsor Shadowheart, late goblin lord and wizard, was dropped into the harsh environment of the wastelands he did not expect to live the day. Fortune favored him however, in that the location was close to a land drop or land rise, depending on which side of the cliff a person found themselves on. In Tsor's case he was not far from the rise and within the rocky terrain he found several caves, of which one was uninhabited. The cave had a natural overhang, providing shelter from the weather as well as any predators looking for a nesting area. Over the past year Tsor had made the best of a terrible situation. Bereft of his powers and isolated from any semblance of civilization, he nevertheless thrived by using his wits and the skills he learned as a young goblin. In all of his endeavors one guiding principle drove him: revenge!

Tsor finally made it back to his cave, using a circular route to confuse any predators looking for an easy meal. He moved the animal skin covering the entrance to his lair aside and entered the cave. His living accommodations were simple, but he made the most of them. A central area were a fire pit had been erected in a spot were he found a small fissure in the ceiling that he had painstakingly enlarged to allow the smoke to escape. A small alcove, also covered by a fur drape housed his wood-framed bed and a mattress stuffed with whatever grasses and vegetation he could find. In the back of the cave was an area that he had also cordoned off where his meat hung as well as edible root vegetables that he had gathered during the warmer seasons.

He stowed his latest kill and using a flint knife, he had fashioned, sliced off a large section of another piece of hanging meat and took it over to where his fire was banked. He hung the meat over a spit, stretched over the fire and added some wood to feed the flames. Returning to his cupboard he removed several large tubers that he then placed in the outer portion of the fire to heat through. He slowly turned the spit as his meat cooked and reflected on the strange direction his life had turned.

"Is this what your life has become?" a voice echoed throughout the cave, startling him.

Tsor jumped back away from the fire, into the deepening shadows of the cave, and drew his flint knife. He quickly scanned the cave for the source of the voice but could see nothing that could have spoken.

"Where are you?" Tsor hesitantly asked, still searching the cave for the source of the voice.

"Everywhere and nowhere," the disembodied voice replied. "Why do you live in this ... in this squalor?"

"I have been stripped of my powers and banished to this gods forsaken place with no hope of ever returning," Tsor replied and shrugged. "Where else would I live?"

"And if you had your powers restored?" the voice asked.

"Retribution!" Tsor replied with vehemence.

"Well then, you should have your powers back," the voice chuckled. "Come, stand before the fire."

Tsor looked around one more time before making the decision to move. He slowly approached the fire and watched in awe as the flames turned golden and then leaped out of the fire ring, engulfing him within the golden flames. Tsor felt no discomfort from the flames, no heat at all. After several moments the flames died down and were sucked back into the fire which in turn went out. The cave was instantly shrouded in darkness. Tsor, still possessing goblin-sight, scanned the area for the source of the voice but was still unable to discern were it originated from.

"Where are you?" Tsor asked.

"Why do you care where the source of your gift comes from?" the voice asked.

"I wish to know to whom I am beholden to," Tsor replied, and tentatively reached out searching for the power contained in the rocks.

Power flowed from the rocks and filled the goblin wizard, which he then used to light the cave. Using his goblin-sight enhanced with power he still was unable to determine the location of the source of the voice.

"Show yourself!" Tsor called out.

Little motes of golden light began to appear in the cave above the fire pit. The motes began to come together, joining in a swirling mass of golden light, increasing in size until the entire cave was bathed in golden light. The mass began to condense and intensify, contracting until it was the size of a wagon wheel, pulsing as it rapidly expanded and contracted chaotically.

"You are beholden to no one, Goblin Wizard," the voice coming out of the writhing mass of golden energy decreed. "You are free to do what you will."

"Why would you aid me?" Tsor asked, trying to understand.

"It furthers my designs to do so," the mass replied.

Before Tsor could comment further the mass began spinning faster and faster as it expanded outward like a hurricane breaking apart. Motes of golden light were flung outward and dissipated until nothing was left of the swirling mass.

"Go forth and do your desire," the voice commanded, fading away.

"Now, my dear Lord Blackmoon, or Whiterune, or whatever you are calling yourself, it is personal," Tsor announced, looking around one last time before stamping his staff to the ground and disappearing in a flash.

The Dragon Tooth Mountains on Andor, three years later.

A doorway slid open in the very fabric of time, revealing a dark starry night framed by a bright sunny day. A moment later two entities stepped through, one man and one woman. The doorway slid shut revealing a lovely glen in the background and a pathway leading upward, and ending at a blank cliff wall.

"I wonder why Reg wanted us to come to this time?" Karith asked, looking around.

"I do not know, but if it was at TimeKeeper's request it must be important," Mann replied. "Caledor thinks that the scales are being manipulated."

"My Lord, Timekeeper comes," Caledor declared.

Both Karith and Mann turned to see a different doorway slide open in the very fabric of time, revealing a dark starry night framed by a bright sunny day. A moment later two entities stepped through, one man and one woman. The doorway slid shut revealing the lovely glen in the background and the pathway that Mann and Karith were standing on.

"Reg?" Mann asked, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword when he spied Melvina standing next to Reg.

"Be at peace, Herald," Melvina, the Handmaiden replied, holding her hands out non-threatening. "I asked to come, to speak to you specifically."

"Mann, she is my lady love," Reg added. "She wanted to meet you, and explain some things."

"Mann, may I call you Mann?" Melvina asked and then continued when she received a nod from Mann. "I wish to apologize for my part in what was perpetrated against you. I allowed loyalty to cloud my judgment and in the process I not only hurt you but hurt Reginald as well. I know that our crossed paths have not gone well in the past and I hope that we can change that now."

"It is more than that, Mistress Melvina," Mann countered, the growl in his voice obvious to all. "You also took from me the opportunity to see my child grow."

"It was not done maliciously, I assure you," Melvina tried to explain. "A Goddess would be in no position to raise a child and normally gives them up for adoption. But in the end it does not matter; this is a horrible way to have to learn this, but she did not carry the child to term. I am so sorry to have to be the one to tell you."

"Wait! What?" Mann exclaimed in shock, taking a step back. "You prophesied over the child. Rannath told me that you said that the child would grow, live in a foster home, and one day draw DeathBringer. How could your foresight be so wrong?"

"That is part of why we came forward," Reg interjected, with Melvina nodding in agreement. "The time-line has been changed, but further discussion should wait until we are inside."

"I guess you are right that in the end it does not matter," Mann replied, sorrow in his voice. "How is Lady Rannath?"

"She has withdrawn, which is her right," Melvina replied. "I know we have had our issues, including some you do not even realize, but I have tried to make amends."

"Mann, it was Melvina that told me what had happened to you in the Hall of Kings and after," Reg added. "That knowledge gave me hope of finding you."

"Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?" Melvina asked.

"You are Reg's lady love," Mann smiled, removing his hand from the sword's hilt. "There is nothing to forgive, besides I only actually remember one time that we met and even that was in a dream. The rest is just water under the bridge. Allow me to introduce my own lady love. Mistress Melvina, this is the Lady Karith de Savoy."

"Lady Karith, my pleasure," Melvina stepped forward and then cocked her head while holding her hand out. "Have we met before?"

"Yes, a long time ago under different circumstances," Karith replied and gently took the offered hand.

"Aar-Mann. Gods, it is hard to think of you as anything other than Aaron," Reg declared, shaking his head.

"I know what you mean," Mann nodded, waving his left arm back and forth. "Now more than ever. Being here brings back more of my memories as Aaron and it is slightly disturbing."

"Then go back to being Aaron Blackmoon or Whiterune for that matter," Karith replied and shrugged.

"You do not mind? After all, you gave me that name."

"As a means to identity yourself when you could not remember your own, which is now no longer the case. Whether you call yourself Aaron or Mann does not matter to me. I know you as both, and really, you are you no matter what you call yourself. Think of it as an alias that you no longer need."

"Well, that settles it," Reg chuckled. "Welcome back Aaron."

"Come, with that life altering matter dealt with, I wish to show you my home," Karith declared and smiled. "And then we can discuss why this time was so important."

"I have been here before," Aaron countered. "To your lair, I mean."

"Yes, but I have not," Karith replied and grinned.

The two couples, led by Karith, ascended the path toward the blank wall, where she stopped and placed her hand, palm out, on the wall and closed her eyes. A few moments later she opened her eyes, frowned, and turned back toward Aaron.

"Aaron ... I must say I do like the sound of that," Karith started and then went on. "Anyway, I cannot remove my wards. Something is wrong."

"Could it be because you set them as Tanith?" Aaron asked, stepping closer and reaching out with his power. "No, these were not crafted by Wyrm, whether Karith or Tanith for that matter. This Eldritch is strange, almost a mingling of Wyrm and ... And me?"

"Tanith? The platinum Wyrm?" Melvina asked, interrupting Aaron's description. "I know of her. You are she?"

"Yes, in a matter of speaking," Karith replied. "I think the explanation could wait until this is resolved. Aaron, can you gain entrance?"

"Yes, I can defeat them, but we must be careful," Aaron warned them. "We do not know what or who is on the other side."

"I do," Karith replied and sighed. "This was not how I wished to tell you, but circumstances force me to do it here and now. It would seem that Mistress Melvina is not the only one dropping important news on you. We have children, Aaron - Wyrm children."

"What? How?" Aaron asked, obviously shocked. "I do not understand."

"Tanith clutched two eggs four years ago in this time-line," Karith explained. "She ... I ... we never got an opportunity to tell you. It was right before what happened on Tarra."

"Four years ago?" Aaron asked, obviously confused. "I understand why we are here now, but why did you want to return a year after and not before they hatched?"

"Can that also wait until we get inside? If we can get in."

"So, you think one of our children has re-warded the opening?"

"Very likely," Karith replied. "We will need to act cautiously; they will be wary of anyone entering the lair."

"All right, how about this? I will remove the wards and you will lead us into the lair and alert them to our presence."

"I am fairly sure we are already alerted to your presence, Father," a voice rang out from above them. "A wyvern would have been alerted to all the noise being made out here."

Both Aaron and Reg drew their Runeswords, as all looked up to see a small platinum Wyrmling above them on a ledge. Well, small being relative since the Wyrmling was about the size of a full grown elephant.

"I am called Elswith, and they are my wards, Mother," the platinum Wyrmling announced. "My brother, your son, is called Manarn, and he is waiting just inside in case you turned out to be enemies."

Elswith dropped down to the base of the path and shifted to a young girl, about 12 years old or so. She was a small wisp of a thing, no taller than four feet, her hair so light it looked translucent but it was blonde, unbound and flowing in the wind. Skin so pale that the blue of veins showed through. Eyes, not the color of her mother's, but the green of emeralds and flecked with gold like her father's. And power! By the Gods, she was powerful! It radiated off her in an almost palpable way. For all of that, she was dressed in a simple platinum shift and barefoot.

"Shall we?" Elswith asked, placing her hand palm out on the blank wall.

Runes appeared, outlined in an unfamiliar color, not silver but more like white-gold, a mixture of Wyrm and Goyle. The runes flashed and faded as an opening appeared in the otherwise blank wall. Elswith stepped through the opening and disappeared into the shadows of the cavern.

"Manarn, it is Mother and Father, and they have brought guests," Elswith called out as she disappeared.

"Did you see the color of her runes?" Reg asked Melvina. "What do you make of that?"

"I am not sure," Melvina replied. "I would have figured that between Karith and Aaron their children would manifest silver."

"Really? Aaron does not manifest silver, but gold," Reg announced. "I do not think I have ever seen you use Eldritch. What do you manifest?"