Warcraft: War of the Ancients #1: The Well of Eternity (Bk. 1) by Richard A. Knaak

Author:Richard A. Knaak [Knaak, Richard A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780743471190
Amazon: 0743471199
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2004-04-02T04:00:00+00:00

He waved his hand over Rhonin’s face…and the wizard slept.

Krasus himself would have liked to know the answer of exactly where he was. The cavern in which he now awakened stirred no memories. He could not sense the presence of any other creature, especially not one of his own kind, and that worried him. Had the watcher simply brought him here to be rid of him?

Did he expect Krasus to die here?

The last was a very real danger. Pain and exhaustion continued to wrack the dragon mage’s lanky frame.

Krasus felt as if someone had ripped half of him away. His memory continued to fail him and he feared that all his maladies would only grow worse with time…time he did not have.

No! I will not give in to despair! Not me!Forcing himself to his feet, he peered around. For a human or orc, the cavern would have been all but black, yet Krasus could make out its interior almost as well as if the light of the sun shone within. He could see the huge, toothy stalactites and stalagmites, identify each crack and fissure along the walls, and note even the tiny, blind lizards darting in and around the smallest crevices.

Unfortunately, he could not make out any exit.

“I do not have time for these games!” he snapped at the empty air. His words echoed, seeming to grow more self-mocking with each repetition.

He was missing something. Surely he had been put in this place for a reason…but what?

Then Krasus recalled the ways of his kind, ways that could, for those not dragons, be very cruel, indeed.

A grim smile played across his face.

Straightening, the cowled mage slowly turned in a circle, eyes never blinking once. At the same time, he began reciting a ritual greeting, speaking in a language older than the world. He repeated the greeting three times, emphasizing the nuances of it as only one who had learned it from the very source of that language could.

If this did not garner the attention of his captors, nothing would.

“It speaks the tongue of those who set the heavens and earth in place…” thundered someone. “Those who brought us into being.”

“It must be one of us,” said another. “For it can surely not be one of them…”

“More must be known.”

And suddenly from the empty air they materialized around the tiny figure…four gargantuan red dragons seated around Krasus, their world-spanning wings folded in dignified fashion behind them. They eyed the mage as if he were a small but tasty morsel of food.

If they thought to shock his supposedly primitive senses, then once again they had failed.

“Definitely one of us,” murmured a heavier male, so noted by his larger crest. He snorted, sending puffs of smoke Krasus’s way.

“And that isss why I brought him,” a smaller male bitterly remarked. “That…and hisss incessant whining…”

Perfectly at ease surrounded by the smoke, Krasus turned to the second male. “If you had the sense the creators gave you, you would have known me for what I am and

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