The story, traded for a meal and a warm fire, continued to unfold in an unpleasant direction. We did not know the identity of this stranger, nor did we know why he was telling us these tales. Yet we listened, a captive audience, unable to look away or move as if an unseen force kept us pinned to our seats.

The man acted as if we were not even there. He gathered dry twigs and tinder from around his feet and tossed them into the dying fire. The flames, which had nearly died out, blazed up with a renewed vigor. The man did not even glance in our direction as he began to speak again.

"My tale is now nearly at an end. The story which I am about to tell is a familiar one - that of the power struggle of the Humans which continues to this very day. This is the story of the continent after the fall of Elmoreden."