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"Regik and the Cave" by, WolfHound Baxton, with a contribution from Sigmund Hvittann

The following is part of a document was recovered by UIA, the UFK's intelligence agency, following an infiltration of the Dracorium on the Moroghu slave world of Xiljas. It describes the secret lore of the Dracos, their traditions and their beliefs about themselves. It also repeats the public and well-known ' Song of Investiture' which the Moroghu cite to justify their imperialist actions and lack of respect for other peoples. Significantly, this confirms that the Moroghu ruler, Draco Prime, is not immortal as their dogma claims.

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Long ago, when the heavens brought the scaled Moroghu people to the sacred and eternal isle, there was Regik. Regik was the oldest of the Moroghu, being thirteen years of age. At that time, the people were young, for only hatchlings and young ones had come down from the forgotten place in the heavens. The winged Draco caste of our people did not exist, and only those with scale, tail, and claw lived on the Isle. The Isle of Moras Prime was not at all like it is today, with its towering spires and the great palace of Draco Prime. In that day, the island was surrounded by a sandy beach and covered in tropical forest. A tall and rocky hill rose in the center of the island where the great palace of Draco Prime now stands. In that hill there was a cave - the Well of Fate.

Regik was not the first to enter the Well, but he was the first to return and not flee in terror. Some of the younger ones had entered the well and ran screaming back to camp. They told of a horrible creature beyond descriptions, strange lights and sounds. Foolish Thrundell, the second oldest of the Moroghu scoffed at the stories. He said that such monsters did not exist and could only be found in the overactive imaginations of young children. The wise Regik, however, knew that the people had been brought to a place that was strange to them and may contain many dangers. The only way to meet danger was with force.

Brave Regik set off to the Mount of Fate to face the creature, armed with his wooden spear, a belt of poison darts, and pieces of meat to use as bait. Regik was the father of all hunters and warriors, and it was he who first hunted the burlogs that lived on the islands at that time. Covered in fur like many inferior beings, the burlogs were fat and slow creatures, unaccustomed to being hunted on their island home.

A burlog was a truly hideous creature with brown spotted fur, long erect ears, and a face covered with hard bony bumps. Tusks for digging adorned a muzzle tipped by a large pink nose with small twitching feelers of flesh protruding from either side as saliva and snot constantly dribbled from the animal's mouth and nostrils. It had the mass of about three male Moroghu, though its body seemed to be mostly fat. They moved about slowly most of the time on their short legs, but oddly could move very quickly at the scent of food, which to them could be any sort of trash or waste deposited on the ground or beneath the leaves of the forest. They were easy to track because of their powerfully offensive scent, the snorting and grunting sounds they made constantly throughout their lives, and the fact that the females made loud shrieking calls and developed a bright orange coat of fur during the mating season. Though not much of a challenge for a true hunter, they helped the young Moroghu hone their skills and by their example taught them the pitfalls of weakness. A single kill was enough for a small party of Moroghu warriors to feast for a day.

As Regik approached the black mouth of the Well of Fate, nestled among the rocks of the hill, he paused in front of the dark chasm. The air coming out was shockingly cold, as if the cave were a passageway to a cold and dark underworld and a strange moaning sound was heard when the wind blew over the entrance. He shivered, having only his loincloth to cover his greenish scales on this otherwise warm island, his tail twitching in anticipation. Despite these omens and signs, Regik strenthened himself and pressed onward into the cave.

The interior of the cave was darker than Regik could see, though sounds of dripping and faint hints of rustlings and whispers greeted his ears. As he pressed onward into darkness, he looked behind him and saw the shrinking point of light at the cave entrance. He thought to himself that the creature of the cave must live deep. He rounded a corner, peering forward and seeing nothing. With caution, he slowly put each foot forward in front of him in the darkness. Soon, he saw a strange orangeish flash of light move across the wall, coming from far ahead of him.

Curious about the light, Regik picked up his pace, rounding a corner and entering a chamber. The air felt strange in here, as if a charge were flowing through it, tickling his scales and making the light mane of reddish feathers on the back of his neck stick up. Strange orange and yellow lights were playing across the walls and illuminating the chamber, but had no visible source. In addition to the feel of a charge in the air, the room seemed to echo a light humming noise, rising to a louder, low pitched hum when one of the patterns of light began to dance over the wall.

Regik approached the far wall of the chamber, as he did, a strange form began to take shape. An inky black shape that seemed neither here nor there, and swirled through the immaterial and material at the same time. The thing slowly coalesced into a more tangible form, that of what seemed to be a large winged creature, face shrouded in its own shadow, seeming to absorb all light around it. Like a sentient black hole it slowly stepped forward, tendrils of its essence seeming to break off in wisps and be reabsorbed into itself as quickly as they broke away. As Regik looked up into the thing's face which seemed to have taken a hideous form, he saw suddenly two eyes, of the deepest red he had ever seen. As his eyes made contact with the form, his mind was flashed with untold images of the past present and future. He was filled with a primal, blinding fear unlike any he had ever experienced. His body seized up, heart pounded against his chest with intense fury. He froze, gazing into the crimson eyes of the figure - those portals to the soul of a great being to whom time and those poor creatures that plodded along its course meant little. This being imparted on him a scope of its consciousness, from the dawn of existence to the here and now, and somehow into the future. He saw what was to be, the immolation of a trillion suns, the collapse of worlds, and all the while the screams echoed across time. The moans of all the insignificant things lost to the uncaring void, their plights laughed at by their gods. He saw their souls traveling in an endless stream towards the black entity, fueling him and ensuring his continued existence. For this he gave no gratitude, no sympathy, the universe existed to sustain him, and the suffering of all life was the only thing that carried through to his ears. In fact, it pleased him, he delighted in the smallest acts of cruelty, to the greatest atrocities ever performed. Regik saw children torn apart by soldiers for sport, entire cities massacred for nothing more than to cull an excess population. He saw entire species loaded onto vessels menacing and strange, then exterminated chamber by chamber, their souls finding no respite as they left their charred and burned bodies reduced to ash, instead joining the steady stream that made its way to the entity in one final pilgrimage of oblivion, constantly wailing in horrible agony, their death pains continuing until they were snuffed out of existence. And slowly, as the images changed and Regik saw, hidden in the shadow before, the procession of his own people - the Moroghu, though adults and living in greatness beyond his imatinations, capable of inflicting all the previous atrocities at will and then some. The universe burned, and as the images continued to pour from the blood red eyes, it showed one species rising from it all, escaping the endless sea of souls. It was Regik's people. The entity showed them triumphing over all, and ascending like gods to live in its shadow. They alone would be offered sanctuary from the suffering and oblivion as long as they continued to supply the thing with the souls of every creature in the universe. They would be its chosen, and rise as dominators of the universe, under the mighty and infernal glory of their Lord and Master. One name echoed louder now than the eternal screams, forever embedded in Regik's mind: Ahriman.

Regik was transfixed by the horrid vision, unable to tear his eyes away. He was frightened, yet somehow compelled by what he saw. He had dropped his burlog meat on the floor of the cave to grasp his spear in both of his clawed hands and assumed a defensive pose. He backed slowly away from the horrid vision. The cold air of the cave had become even colder and a great wind rushed from the entrance of the chamber towards the apparition, as if it were drawing all of the air towards it. The youthful reptile's instincts told him he should turn and flee back from the way he came, but he found himself unable to move, either by some force paralyzing him or by his own fear or fascination. What it was, he could not tell, but he remained fixed in his position as the being grew larger and approach him, gazing down at him from his dark face with those two great red eyes.

"Regik."

The youth heard his name in his mind. It was not spoken into the air as words were normally spoken, but it was as if the apparition had dug deep into his mind and planted his message there. The voice was deep and of an unfamiliar inflection with a bit of scratchiness to it. Regik felt as if the creature had entered his mind and soul and laid everything bare. He was aware of his inmost thoughts being searched out. Still, though planted in his mind, the speech of this creature seemed to echo as if it were spoken in the cave chamber.

"I have watched thy people for I find them to be worthy of my eye," said the fearsome spectre. "I have chosen to extend to ye a portion of my greatness, that ye may become the masters of all that surroundeth ye. All that thou must do is accept my offer and make a sacred covenant with me, and I will give unto thee power over all thy people and all thou seest, if only thou will kneel to me and accept me as thy Lord."

Regik's knees shook. He was terrified but allured. He had scarce imagined all of the things that he had seen in the vision of Ahriman. As the oldest of the survivors of the crash, he was the one the others looked up to and the most powerful hunter of burlog. How could he have more than he had now? To what greater things could he aspire to?

Ahriman sensed his doubts and spoke once more, his eyes blazing bright as he began to show Regik a vision of the Isle of Moras. Regik was bigger now, much bigger, as were the other survivors. To varying degrees, those about Regik were ritually painted with black and red stripes down their broad-scaled chests and down the length of their muzzles. They knelt in rows before Regik who, standing on the crest of the Mount of Fate, raised his arms to the heavens. Regik was flanked on either side by a pair of heavily muscled guards, their bodies fully painted red and armed with great spears tipped with the sharpened bones of the burlog. Regik looked different in his vision, but he was sure that it was himself still. He was older, yes, but his body was painted white and his back adorned with what looked like a pair of majestic draconic wings. Regik recognized this as his destiny - to be beloved of and worshiped by his people and to lead them to greatness untold.

Ahriman allowed Regik to absorb the vision for a moment before asking him: "Dost thou want this? I can give this to thee and more."

Regik then knelt before the apparition quickly, his knee attaching to the floor of the cave as he lowered his head. It was as if the move had been scripted for all time. "What must I do to win this my Lord?"

Ahriman's black essence seemed to shorten and spread out on the floor of the cave now, where Regik was kneeling, though the dark form still towered over the youthful reptilian. A piece of the darkness began to protrude from the spectre as it settled upon the cave floor, moving beneath Regik's face.

"All the world shall quaiver at thy voice And all its peoples kneel without a chioce All that thou must do is kiss my hand To seal thy fate, then march upon the sand

Join thy folk in one great force 'neath thee Then thy many foes do hang upon one tree When thou do'st this come thee to this place and thou shalt be found worth to see my face

Thou belongest now in full to me A greater Master thou shalt never see All the things in sea and sky are thine The peoples, beasts, lands and the stars divine.

Stretch forth thy claws and seize all thou see For it is giv'n to thee as property I give thee a triangle standard A flag made great with blood of the conquered"

Regik lowered his face to the ground and pressed his lips to the black essence that was presented before him. It was cold to the touch of his lips and sent a shiver throughout his body as he did. Though it was, perhaps, more than the shiver of the cold, and a feeling of great energy pouring with in him. He blinked and saw the hand of the apparition retreat and fade, it being replaced with a strange hard, red triangle on the floor of the cave. Regik closed his eyes, groaning as he suddenly felt a pain unlike any other. It seemed as if his entire body had suddenly broke out in excruciating pain and he curled up on the floor of the cave. Something was changing him though he knew not what. He felt the muscles in his stiffen and tighten, and soon the pain in the rest of his body began to fade and localize in his back, along his shoulder blades. Regik laid there amid this symphony of agony, not knowing how much time had passed in the darkness of the cave chamber, but it seemed like eternity. Finally, when the last of the pain subsided, he began to breathe deeply and to try to piece together what had happened in his mind.

First he asked himself: had it been a dream? No it couldn't have been, it was too real. Things were different now. He even felt different. He was amazed at himself and how calm and rationally he thought over the situation. Before he would have shown fear at the image that was presented to him, but now he could only analyze it. He amazingly felt no fear of the otherworldy vision that had presented itself to him. Even his senses were different now. They were much more acute. He felt the could draft of the cave in amazing detail. He could hear the wind blowing over the cave entrance from the depths of the chamber he was in. Where the cave before had been blackness, he could now faintly see as if by a dim blue-green light. He saw before him know the red triangle on the floor of the cave. This was the sign given to him by Ahriman and pure proof of the validity of his experience. He picked it up, for it would fit easily in the palm of his clawed hand. He flipped it around in his hand curiously, marveling at the hardness of it. There was nothing in the world he knew that was this hard except for the sunken vessel from which his people had came as hatchlings. He considered then that this must be the flesh of the gods, and that Ahriman had chosen him to fulfill this great destiny for his people.

As Regik turned to depart the cave with his sign in hand, he thought of all those who may oppose the truth of what he had seen. The foolish boys who had entered the cave and fled may follow him, or perhaps they would consider him evil because of the nature of his vision. Even if they did, they were just small fry and would not matter without someone stronger to lead them. Ahriman had warned that he might have 'foes' but he knew no other people except his fellow survivors who had formed a brotherhood. Surely his brothers and friends would not oppose him.

At that moment, the truth came to Regik's mind. Of course! Thrundell would be the one to oppose him. But how could Thrundell deny the truth when Regik carried the sign of Ahriman in his claws? Perhaps he would lie and say that Regik had merely found a piece of the sunken vessel. Thrundell and Regik had at first had a friendly relationship with one another and considered themselves to be the closest of brothers. As the oldest of the Moroghu who had been brought to this place, they both felt they had a responsibility to care for and lead the younger ones in the right way and ensure the survival of the people. However, a great disagreement had arisen between Thrundell and Regik.

As Regik continued to the cave entrance, he thought of what had happened many months before, when the Moroghu were trying to find the best way for their people to live and find food for themselves, Regik emerged from the forest with a young burlog draped over his shoulders. He threw the slain beast down in the center of the camp next to the council fire. The young Moroghu crowded to him, marvelling at the slain furry beast as their tongues flicked eagerly from their mouths. They had not taken part in a kill before, but their inner natures remembered the kills of their ancestors and knew that what laid before them was precious food.

Regik then spoke to the children of the burlog. He told them that the burlogs were weak but fat with meat and that a single adult burlog would feed a full five of the Moroghu people. He described with great pride how he had taken one of the spears that the people had made and threw it with great skill towards the young beast, bringing it down, and how its mother had fled with terror. He then went to his friend Thrundel, the second oldest of the people, and smiled to him, thinking to find his approval, but Thrundell rose from his log about the fire and scowled at him.

"How can you show disrespect to the burlog in this manner?" asked Thrundell. "They lived upon this land before we did, and so they are our elder brothers and sisters. We should not kill their young and defenseless ones which do not provide nearly enough to feed our people."

Regik snarled in response. "How can you have repsect for these beasts?," he retorted. "Do you think them our equals? While we can tame the great fire, craft great sticks, homes, and hold intelligent council with each other. They are nought but beasts. They live on dead leaves and filth they turn over with their tusks and are slovenly and unclean in all their ways. We are the superior for we cleanse ourselves in the waters and do not eat such things. Our people require flesh to eat. They do not speak but grunt hideously and smell unpleasant. They are foolish and weak and cannot hide from us, nor do they try, which shows them to be inferior. They are gruesome to look upon and good for nothing, but their meat and blood tastes sweet. This I can attest to and this is what they must be here for."

Once more, Thrundell objected to the wisdom of Regik. "Yes it is true that our kind must eat flesh, but why would you kill the small ones when they provide not enough flesh to feed our people. Instead take the large and fat ones who have given rise to other burlogs as our large ancestors gave rise to us before we were brought to this land. This is not irreverent, but good as you relieve the burlog of those who have served their life-purpose. And do not take them often or greedily, for then soon there would be no burlog and the forest would be empty. Instead, we should live off the great multitudes of fish that live in the river and the sea, for they are vast in number and will provide meat to our people . See here, that I have made a net from the trees of the forest to throw into the sea and the river. The fish are so many that we only need to scoop them from the water and our people will live happily."

Regik's lips curled in disgust. The people had lived mostly on fish or shelled beachwalkers ever since their arrival for the people did not yet have the skill or speed to chase down the burlog. The fish tasted foul and strange compared to the flesh and blood of the burlog which was sweet to the tongue. "How can you say you love our people?," said Regik, "when you would have them live of the tastelsss scum of the waters, gotten by idle means, when the people can become strong hunters by learning to track a more challenging prey, and have their skills rewarded by a sweet flesh?"

The brothers Regik and Thrundell continued to argue ceaselessly throughout the night, and the wisdom of Regik became clear to many throughout the night. To follow Thrundell would mean that the Moroghu would become weaklings and not develop the skills of the hunt, and to be condemned to eating the foul-tasting fish for the rest of their lives. As Regik began to lead parties of his hunters into the forest, they returned with larger and larger burlogs and had feasts nightly as they cooked the flesh of the beasts over the great fire. Thrundell and his followers looked upon them with disdain, turning their noses away as if the sweet smell of cooking flesh was an offense. From this point on, Regik and Thrundell, who had been as brothers, would never see m to agree on anything. Often it was as if Thrundell purposefully found reasons to disparage Regik. This being the case, many of Thrundell's fishers would move over to Regik's hunters once they tasted the meat of the burlog.

As Regik walked towards the light at the end of the cave, he pondered these things. Before he had entered the cave, he was saddened at Thrundell's rejection of him and his ideas. He was offended and knew he was right, certainly, but part of him wanted to restore his brotherhood with Thrundell. Now, since being spoken to by Ahriman, Regik's changed mind no longer found this to be important. Indeed, he scoffed that he could have been foolish enough to consider this of importance. The only thing that mattered to him was control over all his people, as Ahriman had promised him. When Ahriman had spoken to him of his foes, he knew that his mighty Lord must have meant Thrundell. Thrundell and his followers would have to hang from one tree, as the Lord Ahriman had commanded.

When Regik emerged from the cave into the light of the sun, he found that much more than his mind and senses had been changed. He looked down at his body and at his arms. He saw them as larger and more muscled now. He took his spear and held it before him, giving it a thrust. He knew now that he was more powerful than he was before. Something else felt different about him though. He felt something on his back being tickled lightly by the breeze. He then saw his shadow on the ground which looked different than he was accustomed to. His back twitched and suddenly his shadow spread wide. He had been given wings like those he had seen on Ahriman. He felt he was no longer simply Moroghu, but had become something greater; something new. Surely the others would not oppose him now. How could even Thrundell deny what had happened to him.

Regik looked to the trees and saw the winged birds flitting to and fro among them. He wondered to himself if he could do as they did, so he climbed the rocks to the crest of the Mount of Fate, a rocky outcrop above the entrance to the Well of Fate from which he had returned. From this promontory much of the Isle could be seen all around, including the valley through which the great river flowed down through the forest towards the camp of his people at its mouth by the beach. He raised his arms towards the heavens as he had seen in his vision and closed his eyes. His claws curled into fists as he focused on the new power that now flowed through his body. He stirred his wings, and powerful new muscles in his back flapped them like those of a bird as he stretched his arms forward, and spread his wings wide. He jumped off of the crest of the hill, the air catching his wings and making him fly forward but down a bit. He concentrated on the great muscles in his back once more, flapping his wings again, driving him forward and upward. Regik was elated with the sense of flight. He was surprised at the amount of effort he needed to exert to keep airborne and how he would begin to drift downward of he didn't flap. The birds had made it look so easy. He soon discovered that he could shift the path of his flight by turning his wings, that he could glide downward easily without flapping, but that flapping to gain speed and height would tire him out, much like running up a hill. From his new height, Regik could see the camp clearly ahead of him. He glided down to it carefully, the red triangle that Ahriman gave him clutched in one claw and his spear in the other. He knew that if he landed in the midst of the people and showed them the token of the god they would follow him in amazement.

Regik landed in he midst of the camp, to the astonishment of the Moroghu children who were going about their business there, and raised a loud voice for all those around. Holding the red triangle up high, he called the Moroghu to come to him and gather round.

"I have entered the Well of Fate and met the one who lives there," said Regik. He has told me that I am to rule all that I see and that everything is mine. He says that everything will be yours to, if you will only obey and follow me in all things! As a sign, our Lord Ahriman, for that is his name, has given me this red triangle and changed me into a divine being so that you might believe."

All the Moroghu gasped and wondered among themselves if this could be true. If it were, they could do nothing but accept, for Regik was already beloved by many as the leader of the hunt. Even the followers of Thrundell respected his strength and greatness. They sat astonished, some on their haunches around Regik's feet, looking up at him in awe as he told his tale.

Then came Thrundell, appearing from the large two-sectioned hut that was prepared for him and Regik as the leaders of the people. He blinked, momentarily surprised by the wings adorning Regik's back. He then took a breath and moved forward.

"Regik! What have you done," said Thrundell. "Why are you acting like this? You know that it was decided long ago that we would both be leaders. What's happened?"

Regik turned to Thrundell with a grin and stretched his wings out, showing their full length. It was obvious to everyone that these wings were real and could not be any sort of cape or garment. Regik pointed sternly to Thrundell

"This creature, so-called Moroghu, disapproves of the hunt. He would have us live simply off the fish rather than hunt as we were meant to. Why do any of you follow him!? Would you rather not follow a strong leader who will take you to greatness - one who is favored and beloved by a god!?" He raised his red triangle up into the air. "This is the flesh of the gods! Given to me by Ahriman himself as a sign. We are to make a banner of the red triangle. Sanctified with blood!"

"This is insane!," protested Thrundell foolishly. "Whatever has done this, it can't be good. No respectable leader would demand your full loyalty like this, only offering such things as a sign. See how Regik has changed. He doesn't just look different but he acts different too. See the smirk on his face, the glint in his eye. He doesn't care about you for yourselves anymore! He only wants to use you to make this into his own personal little gang. This isn't about us anymore. It's all about him. We must go to the Well of Fate and seal it up so that whatever this evil is it will never plague us again!

Regik simply laughed at himself and shook his head. The other Moroghu with him jeered at Thrundell as he talked, taking over him about mundane things or going about their lives and chores as usual in spite of him. Still, a few of Thrundell's fishers stood by his side.

Regik moved in their direction and addressed them. "Look at yourselves! Fools! Why do you follow this arrogant buffoon!? He would have you seal the cave, destroy your chance at greatness, and renounce your birthrights! Follow me, and I will make you more than fishers, more than hunters. I will make you warriors, lords. Rulers of all you see. It is yours for the taking, starting with the sweet meat of the burlog feast."

His speaking swayed many of Thrundell's followers, so that in the end only Thrundell and four others remained.

Regik whistled loudly, and soon silence gripped the camp, and all the Moroghu looked to him with rapt attention as he gestured contemptuously towards Thrundell, wearing a bloodthirsty grin on his face. He actually thought of seeing Thrundell's corpse hang from the tree and it filled him up with delight. He had thought of Thrundell as his brother still, in spite of their disagreements, but no more. His encounter had changed all that and he was grateful for it, for now he recognized his former weakness and would correct it.

"Our Lord Ahriman commands that all those who oppose these new ways hang from one tree. When we have done this, we may return to his holy place, and there he will grant us his full favor and blessings. Go unto that tree over there, the tallest near the edge of the beach!," Regik pointed. "And there tear the fishing nets of the weaklings asunder, for we shall craft a hanging rope from their strings The cowards in our midst shall be hung for the pleasure of our Lord Ahriman's sight!"

Those among the former fishers, anxious to please their new leader and prove their loyalty, went straightway to break up their nets and twist them into new ropes, fashioning a new and strong knot that would be used to hang Thrundell and his remaining followers, but in the confusion, Thrundell and his companion, Xyrun, escaped from the camp. Of Thrundell's followers, Regik and his hunters were only able to capture two, which they hung from the tree according to Ahriman's commands.

The next day, Regik gathered his great hunters about him and began to speak. "This day," said Regik, "we hunt the greatest prey that has been sent to us. We hunt down the coward Thrundell. Though he is weak, he is stronger and craftier than any burlog. It will not be an easy hunt. You will scour the island and bring Regik and Xyrun to me, from whence they will be taken to hang as our Lord Ahriman has commanded. The hunters went through the Island, searching for Thrundell and Xyrun, but they found them not. On the far side of the Mount of Fate they found what appeared to be a small hut, and the remains of felled trees and rope. It seemed to them that Thrundell must have created a makeshift boat or raft and set off into the sea with his single companion rather than face his fate. Among the embers of the campfire, the hunting party found a small disc. Brushing away the soot, they found it to be bright blue - a fantastic object, comparable to the red triangle that Regik had found. Thus, the hunting party returned to Regik with empty hands save for the blue disc.

Regik was displeased, but was determined not to fail his Lord. He took the hunters and adminstered the just punishment for their failures. Like true Moroghu, the hunters accepted the judgment of their Lord, and stood silently as he sliced their chests with his stone knife and then wiped the blood on the crimson banner the hunters had made. Then, when their time had come, the leaders of the failed hunt were hanged from the tree in place of Thrundell and Xyrun in the sight of Ahriman.

Thereafter, the people of Regik went to the Well of Fate once, to bravely face their Lord. Some of them were judged unworthy and did not leave the cave, but those who did felt an extra sense of power within them. They were not winged like Regik was, but some among their future children would be. It was these winged ones, called the Draco, who were to become the leaders of the Moroghu people.

Regik himself was shown special favor by Ahriman. He passed through a secret ritual which shall not be uttered here. It is true that of those who undertake this challenge not many emerge alive, but Regik emerged not only alive but fully unharmed aside from his skin, which had now been colored a brilliant white, with eyes nearly as red as those of Ahriman himself. Ahriman also took the cursed blue disk of Thrundell from Regik's hand and purified it, making it into a white disc with the sacred symbol of the Gheth in its center. This he bestowed to Regik, fashioned into an amulet on a chain of burlog bones as a sign of his reign. Regik was also given the name Draco Prime, which he would bear throughout his existence.

Many years later, the burlog did disappear from the Isle of Moras as Thrundell had said, but Draco Prime reassured his people that this was only the work of the evil Thrundell who must have returned in the night sometimes to kill and steal them himself. Thrundell had become one with the fish he lived by, so said Draco Prime, and now lived among the waters. Draco Prime assured his people that he had seen in his dreams lands beyond the waters full of more burlog and other furred creatures for the hunt, some of them walking upright and speaking as if they were Moroghu. He promised them that someday, if they worked hard with their eyes to the seas and the skies, they would hunt again, and as the years went past, the truth of Draco Prime's words were fully seen.

As time went on, other winged ones were hatched to the people. They were stronger and smarter than all the other people and Draco Prime made them his assistants and governors, but one night, one of them took a brazen knife and stabbed Draco Prime forty times in his sleep as he slept. When this happened, Ahriman summoned all the Dracos to the Well of Fate in a dream. They nervously approached their Lord, fearing retribution for their actions, but were instead congratulated and rewarded for their cunning. Ahriman set them a series of tasks which shall not be uttered here to allow one of them to become Draco Prime once more. Most of the Dracos in the cave died that day, but Draco Prime, reborn again, thanked his Lord for this test of strength. This is what is meant when it is said that Draco Prime is immortal, though the masses could never understand. Draco Prime never dies, but is reborn anew with the blessings of Ahriman after each cycle, with his method of death and rebirth assuring that he becomes only stronger and stronger with each cycle. These are the Annals of Regik and the Cave, young Draco. May you read them and learn from the example of this hero, that you may one day be Regik Reborn - Draco Prime.