The man I met in the tavern that night seemed odd from the beginning, like one from another age who had outlived several since. Perhaps he was, for he claimed to have rode in the service of the First King – yes, Tutumbek himself! Claims he saw the king on the back of the silver dragon with his own eyes when they fought the Giants at the Xanthium River.

Of course, that would make him ten thousand years old and he only had the appearance of late middle-age! Yet, there was something in his demeanour that spoke of wisdom attained from a life unimaginably long. In steady, unhurried tones he told me how he had wandered Hyracanum, exploring every nook, even drifting in and out of Elfland, of which he says even the most glorious of songs are but a whisper compared to the true splendour of the Fore...

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