Saranon glanced up at the dragons as they flew overhead. The hour of darkness covered them as she watched on. She waited as Pennie examined the stone. It formed part of the shield locking them inside the camp. Shouts rang out on the other side. 'Is that Galven?' Pennie asked. She nodded in reply. A twig broke on the muddy ground. 'We have company,' she said. A lone sorcerer. Just one, but that was enough to give them away. Pennie ran for fear of being, caught, while Tasha stood gazing out into the distance, 'One day that will be us.' Enter an epic tale of sword and sorcery. More than two hundred years ago, a powerful sorceress, freed her people then, vanished. As time passed, truth turned into myth and myth became legend. The time has come again. Saranon must claim her rightful place, before Zyanthia falls.
