<span style="font-style: italic">In the deep mist covered swamps of the Isle a dragon began to awake from his slumber, as he moved the scales of his immense body churned chaotically as if created from the black of night itself.  In the ancient language of dragon his name is Hadzuska-koshÃ»jontÃ», the common tongue translates to "Shadow-Born".  Those who know of him call him simply the Shade Lord. <br/><br/>Throwing the bonds of sleep from his body the great and ancient dragon spread his wings, the mist that surrounded him swirled as they were fanned away.  Even then however, with the mists departing, a ever present gloom clung to the dragon's form.  The shadows were a part of him, and he a part of them.  <br/><br/>His great eyes blinked, slowly, forcing away the heavy slumber that had taken him.  It was then that he sensed them, dragons, the others had come.  The great gathering had already begun.  Amused he released a deep rumble from his chest and throat, it sounded akin to a rolling thunder, but was in truth his laughter.  It was a sound that shook the nearby foliage and sent the murky water rippling, if mortal ears had heard it their blood would have stopped cold due to fear. <br/><br/>Hadzuska looked forward to the gathering, he greatly desired to meet the others who had traveled here.  At any other time these dragons would be rivals, but here and now, the Shade Lord did not desire their demise.  He desired company, and the sharing of knowledge.<br/><br/>Now fully awake the great dragon stood on his hind legs, muscles as thick as the large ropes used to secure the immense ships humans used to travel the oceans tensed as he prepared to leap into the sky.  The nearby ground shook a launched himself above the trees, wings and magic aided his effort and with no more than a few powerful strokes of his wings he was airborne</span>.