ShoDom shifted in his throne. The seat was too wide and too deep for him, having been made for Morach in the Golden Age of the Dragons.

Still, he preferred its mighty ornamentation and steel firmness to the creaking of his own wicker throne back home. Indeed it made him feel stronger and larger than ever to occupy the Dragon’s seat. Let Morach come at me now, he thought, sitting in his empty palace hall. The Dragon was weakened and hiding in the mountains, and now ShoDom had the only key to his (the dragon’s) safest refuge, the Watchless World. The age of Morach was over; the age of ShoDom was just beginning.

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