Prologue

The chanting sounded over the water like a dirge, muffled and shifting through the mist and echoing from the long black cliffs.  Two rows of priests murmuring prayers for the protection of the world, formed a half circle along the margin of the lake.  Here the shore formed an amphitheatre in front of the cave entrance set in the cliff face.  The sun rose into the morning mist, casting a dim but even light over the unfolding drama.

Two figures stood in the centre of the of the double row of chanting priests.  High Priest Memnlath seemed almost too old and frail to support himself as he leaned heavily on his staff.  A small, stooped figure, dressed in black, but with a stylised figure of a dragon rampant embroidered in red on the back of his simple woollen habit.  “My son,” he said to the tall figure in black armour beside him, “you realise that what we are about to do can have only one outcome.”  His voice was barely a whisper, and he seemed to be preserving his voice for some future challenge.  His companion, Prince Gwetherion, barely nodded, his eyes fixed on the cave in front of them.  He was entirely covered in black plate armour, unrelieved except for the same dragon rampant that adorned Memnlath’s back.  In Gwetherion’s case, it was embossed in silver across his breastplate, and formed a silver crest to his helmet.  And across his shoulder was slung a simple cord to which was attached an old battered and very disreputable looking horn.  “There can be no turning back, Father.  Qaarinaxx represents the evil which threatens us all.  It is a source of power to those whose ambition consumes them.  They believe that the dragon will make them powerful beyond all dreams - and so it will, but the price is too terrifying to believe.”  “Yes, my son,”  Memnlath seemed to die a little as he thought of what had led to this desolate shore and what his future would surely be.

The chanting rose in volume and gradually changed pitch to become a high, keening wail as the two moved forwards to the entrance to the cave.  Leading the way, stumbling over the rough ground, Memnlath moved into the cave.  As daylight disappeared behind them, the cave was lit by a greenish light that radiated from the rocks themselves.  The pathway turned and twisted, and Memnlath shuffled unsteadily over the broken, rocky surface.  “Father ...,” began Gwetherion, but he was cut off by the High Priest.  “No, Gwetherion, I must be here, for without me you will not even be able to see Qaarinaxx - I have devoted my life to the study of this evil, and I alone can reveal it to you.  Your role is to destroy it.”  “I know, Father. I, too, have devoted my life to the time when I must destroy this evil - and perhaps be destroyed myself.”  And, touching the horn at his side, he continued, “ and the Horn of Ryon – its note will help to protect me against the spells of Qaarinaxx and give me some sort of chance to annihilate the serpent.

After moving slowly through the damp cave for what seemed like hours, Memnlath stopped, for no apparent reason.  “We are here, Gwetherion - around that bend is the chamber of Qaarinaxx.”  “Not very well defended, is it.” replied his companion, but Memnlath smiled a thin smile.  “Even if you led all the armies of the world, you would not get past this point.  Qaarinaxx is protected by a ...,” he hesitated, “I suppose you would call it a force, an invisible barrier, but it is real enough.  Why don’t you try going forward?”  Gwetherion braced himself and strode forward, but came to an abrupt halt - against nothing!  He tried again, with the same result, this time almost falling to the ground in an undignified sprawl.  “No, my son, I must break the seal, but when I do, be ready, for you must face the might of Qaarinaxx.” 

Memnlath smiled again, this time with genuine joy for his companion.  “The gods will be with you, Gwetherion, and if it is to be that you do not survive this encounter, your soul will live for ever in their highest heaven.”  Gwetherion nodded and drew his sword, a long, razor sharp blade, engraved with the runes of the old kingdom.  The hilt was a black material that moulded itself to Gwetherion’s hand, and set into the pommel was a black and silver stylised engraving of a dragon.  “The symbol of Qaarin-tashgoth, the dragon slayer,” said Gwetherion, kissing the pommel and lowering the visor of his helmet.   

At the same time, Memnlath took from his pouch a crystal globe that seemed to be filled with a swirling pink mist.  He spoke a few short, sharp phrases, and suddenly, the chanting of the priests could be heard clearly throughout the cave.  With this as a counterpoint, Memnlath began a chant of his own, the pitch rising and falling rhythmically, getting gradually stronger.  As he reached a climax, the pink mist seemed to flow from the globe and engulf Memnlath, while, at the same time, an archway appeared before him.  Memnlath motioned Gwetherion forward and he stepped through, but as he did so, the chanting turned to an agonised scream, the crystal globe shattered with a sound like thunder and Memnlath disappeared in a sheet of cold crimson flame.

“You see what happens to those who interfere with the rule of Qaarinaxx, Prince Gwetherion.”  A voice that seemed to echo forever, spoke in Gwetherion’s mind.

The cold crimson flame that had destroyed Memnlath now crept around Gwetherion like a spring mist, its tendrils drifting into his face and bringing with it sweet memories of his home and childhood.  At the same time, it promised peace and sleep without the doomed struggle that he knew at the centre of his heart that he must continue.  Wrestling the lethargy that now seemed as if it would overwhelm him and cause him to sleep forever, Gwetherion struggled to bring the Horn of Ryon to his lips.  As he did so, Gwetherion could feel strength flowing into him from the dragon emblem on the pommel of his sword, and with a final deperate lunge, raised the horn and blew a single, clear, penetrating note.  The mist disappeared, and with it, the lethargy and uncertainty that had begun to affect him.

Gwetherion strode forward, but the voice of Qaarinaxx still echoed in his mind.  "Fool.  Do you dare to challenge the might of Qaarinaxx?  I can cause you pain such as you have never even begun to experience, then wipe you out without so much as a second thought."  Gwetherion responded in an even, ppassionless voice, although his heart was beating rapidly and he felt an enormous tension throughout his body.  "Yes, Qaarinaxx, you probably can, but don't underestimate my determination to bring you down, no matter the cost to me."