"Who am I?" the small figure asks, his eyes gleaming, slightly, the first true show of emotion, beyond indifferent contempt. Suddenly, Draiss feels an immense... pressure, fill the room, as he very quickly realizes two things about the being he's talking to. The first is that he is immensely powerful; enough so that he<em>could</em>crush Draiss like an insect, if he chose, and that was not merely a bluff. The second, perhaps more disturbing, is that this being is merely an avatar of some greater force.<br/><br/>He speaks slowly, clearly, his instantaneous flexing of power gone as soon as it manifested, as if it never existed. "I was old when the first mortals looked to the skies and worshiped me. I am the first, and the last, that any world sees. I am the Wyrm of World's End. And, there is a hope for you. You are incomplete, scattered into pieces. A gift for one, a curse for eight. Consume, and survive. You are more stable than your opposite, for you are more complete. It will either save you, or annihilate you."