pradera

The following is an excerpt from an Appendix on Dragon Breeds and Races, Dracology Handbook Year One, Llambed Academy of Mystic Arts. A LIST OF NOTABLE WESTERN RACES Metallic (Ladon's Breed) History: The Ladon's Breed is one of the oldest and most diverse breeds of dragons in the West. Bred first on Trinacria, they were the dragons of choice for the Roman Legions until the Sun Priests came to power and banished all dragons. Having escaped destruction of the Great Cull in select hidden pockets in the Alp valleys, their breeding was picked up after the Age of Unbridled Fire by the Midgardians and the Helvetii. Savoy Bronze Known for thei

(elements of this story had been incorporated into the upcoming Volume Three of my "The Year of the Dragon" saga, "The Islands in the Mist") It was a tiny speck on the horizon at first but, as soon as he had seen it, Otokichi knew he was saved.   He lost count of months since his ship, a simple cargo boat bound for Edo, had gotten caught in a terrible storm. The winds had pummelled and battered the vessel for days. The mast and rudder snapped away, half the crew had been swept off the deck. By the time the winds had eased, they found themselves in the middle of the vast Eastern Ocean, drifted aimlessly by the relentless currents, moving ev

The shattered shells of the eggs, like shards of broken basalt, lay abandoned in the lightless alcoves of the Hatchery. The vast, underground amphitheatre of the Hatchery stretched for half a mile, its oval arena illuminated by a myriad of evertorches hovering under the dome of raw granite. In the middle, glistening, black, coiling wyrms writhed ceaselessly, snarling and biting at each other, agitated by boredom, irritated with each other's presence. Hellish roaring, screeching and hundredfold growling of countless throats reverberated throughout the cavern. Once in a while one of the beasts stood on its hind legs and spread its leathery win

I arrived at the hide just after ten. The ferro-concrete, armour-plated interior was refreshingly dark and cool, compared to the scorching June sun outside. There were already about a ten of them in there, all laden with impressive amounts of optical gear of all sorts and sizes.  With just a tiny glimpse of gloating satisfaction, I removed my camera from its bag, to the gasp of a bald man standing beside me with a pair of old military binoculars.  "Is that..." he whispered, awestruck.  "Japanese", I nodded, "The last they ever made"  "Where did you get that?"  "My Dad worked in the recovery crew at Kanto plain. They've found a conta

Unchanging the river flows, and yet the water is never the same. In the still pools the foam now gathers, now vanishes, never staying for long. So in the world are men and their dwellings.                                                                                               Hōjōki   PROLOGUE A single gear whirred and clicked into place. A valve opened, letting out a thin plume of grey steam with a quiet hiss. A gold-plated dial moved by a notch. A tiny mallet sprang from its compartment, striking the brass gong - one, two, three, four, five, six times. Master Tanaka looked up in surprise - an hour of the Har

It came out of the fog.            An old ghostly Bataavian man-o-war, glowing crimson, its tattered black sails full even though the sea was silent for miles. Gunports open wide along the broadside, cannons primed and ready to fire. And not a soul of crew on board.            The look-out was the first to cry the words everyone knew and dreaded in these seas, south of the Cape: 'The Flying Bataavian! Straight ahead!'            The sailors, always prone to superstition, fell into disarray. The captain and the officers tried to stem the chaos, but it was too late. Panic spread like wildfire. The helmsman, deaf to orders, turned the Birk