Under the Winged Shadow
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Nor were there any now thought captain Graelis Dorlion, as he brought his retinue to the hill-top overlooking the verdant green Valley below, with its great green pines, and its crystal blue lake. A view that under average circumstances would have been breathtaking in itself. However, all the men present appeared to be fixated on a rock formation in the distance, east of their road. Like a ravenous beast breaching the crust of the earth, there sat what looked like a great set of jaws jutting from the earth. The site of this natural phenomenon set all the soldiers present to murmurings, and hushed debates amongst themselves. Graelis dismissed the tales he heard along the road toward the valley as legends, and tales. That that great maw was merely a natural formation much like the mountains encircling the Valley. It seemed irksome to him that grown men, and women would permit themselves such a flight of fancy. Given the purpose of their journey to Varnjir Valley, he thought such musings better left to the glistening eyes of children during peace time. Still, he thought to himself that perhaps this would help with morale. For his men to lose themselves to legends stepped out from the past, perhaps this could allow them a brief respite from the fumbling retreat they were constantly finding themselves in.
