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by: Jewel 
She unsheathed her blade, running her fingers along the cold iron. It was unusually thin, longer then most, and had a double razor sharp edge. Light weight, it was forged especially for her. No jewels or gems or special spells or engravings upon it, it was as simple as the woman that weilded it. The woman quickly made a small hot fire upon the plain, heating water for a cup of tea. She mixed some warm oats in a bowl for her horse, then sat down feeling the cold bite her exposed skin and ate a small travel cake, to regain her strength. Sipping her tea she smiled slyly as she thought of her traveling companions, riding after her towards the south. Her self appointed guards, her protectors. Weeks of planning, she knew she would have no choice but to allow them to accompany her. The last of the true crusaders. Little words are spoken these days between them, the common bond they shared held a deeper meaning. The old stable master in Xenora, could be trusted. She had saved his life once. He had housed her old warhorse, a gift from her long forgotten husband. She and her guard traveled to Xenora, only Mish-Rak and Tijir knew it was only a quick stop, upon the way to a longer journey, some destiny. In the middle of the night, she stole away. The old stable master made sure her jeweled stallion was mounted by a rider of simalar size and sent in a hurry towards the dragon dens of Lanerell. There the horse was to be slayed and the rider to travel on by boat to Atheria... that should keep them busy for a while. She snickered. She knew she was to see the ancient white alone. Night after night, the same dream haunted her and although she couldnt quite remember it all, she knew the Ancient White had returned home and her destiny was one with his. The deep dread that overwhelmed her upon waking, left her uneasy and sad. She thought about the Ancient White... he had disappeard long before the second dragon wars and thought dead. He was one of the last great dragons of old, who could speak in tongues, and charm his victems. His horde was vast, and his magic strong. What had bought him back home? She looked upon her aging body... her simple form, the grey hairs that dominated her long braid... she led the crusades, but that was long ago in her youth, she had no idea why she was here, she trembled from fear and cold... feeling perhaps this day was her last... but knowing she must obey the vision. Nervously she mounted the horse, and slowly rode toward the darken gap within the mountains face in the distance.
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