One night, a long time ago...

In the Enchanted Tree Clearing sat Lady Gryphon next to the bard Lucius. She had returned from a hunt and she had many things to tell her old friends in the tavern. Adrian was just one of them but she had bought him a cup of the fine Enchantican wine and was telling him of the experiences she had had on her journey. Soon a few others had gathered by their table and was listening closely to the lady’s story and Gryphon spun it with passion and skill.

After a few more cups of wine Gryphon fell silent to the disappointment of the gathering and she pierced Adrian with one of those dark dangerous looks of hers.

"Talking this much dries my throat," Lady Gryphon stated. "How about you telling me now what has transpired while I was gone, and I can go about and drink the wine my coin has bought," she laughed and Adrian joined her heartily.

Instead of answering her immediately though he retrieved his lute from his backpack, spun it once in his hand and with light fingers tuned it nimbly. "Well, I guess I could give you a song first," he smiled at her and Lady Gryphon returned it with a flashing smile of her own. The gathering that thought the fun was over found another excuse to down another mug of ale called for the barmaid and cheered the troubadour on.

"This tune is dedicated to all of Draconia and her wonderful citizens but mostly to the strength of four individuals, whose strength and courage probably will be legendary and well sung through all of the Empire," said Adrian and began picking the melody with his fingers, and soon a silence of sorts filled the inn.

"This golden ancient Draconian land, from where the sun sets in Nova Q’lynnesti
To the Enchantican wood and the Lakeland strand, which beauty always inspires me
The valorous deeds of Draconian knights, from the Coastlands to the Northern Reaches
The noble Stormcrows and Lampetides, the truth of honor us teaches.
The truth of honor us teaches.

The Imperial pearl of Dragonspire, His Majesty Haldir in his glory
Has stood majestic and pure through times so dire, and was spun in many a story
To the Draconian banner we rally, to defend her colors with our faith,
The heroic knights’ ideals do tally, battle bravely with sword and mace.
Battle bravely with sword and mace."

When Adrian’s last breath died out the inn was covered in an unseen mist of contemplation. Soon, however, an Enchantican ranger, a guard of Drak Yardok, raised his mug of ale and yelled for more. A moment later the tavern was singing again, the same song over and over again, and when the first light of the morning sun, dawning above the vast forest of Enchantica, fell on the Enchanted Tree Clearing, all who had stayed in the inn knew the words of the song and were humming it while trying to find their way home in the early hours.