Disclaimer

For Goldmoon and her followers, Schallsea Island is a place of bright beginnings. In the shadow of the magical ruin called the Silver Stair, a translucent spiral that leads to visions and revelations, they have started construction on the Citadel of Light. For the first time since the Chaos War, the future looks promising. But two forces challenge Goldmoon's plan to launch a new mystical order on Krynn – one clad in the plate mail of a Solamnic Knight, the other hidden by mysterious magic and dark shadows.<

Casting his eyes down, Innova blinked stupidly at the blinding glow. And then he saw it—the red and black of the roiling surface replaced, only briefly, by something rising and diving and vanishing under the magma. Black and red as well, but solid and living…. The rising of a scaled back, of a monstrous thing surfacing for a moment. Innova’s breath fled him. He heard himself scream.<

How far can a hero fall? Far enough to lose his soul? Dhamon Grimwulf, once a Hero of the Heart, has sunk into a bitter life of crime and squalor. Now, as the great dragon overlords of the Fifth Age coldly plot to strengthen their rule and to destroy their enemies, he must somehow find the will to redeem himself. But perhaps it is too late.<

How much is an act of betrayal worth? Worth the price of a soul? Dhamon Grimwulf and his band of mercenaries greedily eye a long-forgotten treasure concealed beneath a grassy plain. Legends promise riches too numerous to count, wealth too grand to be believed. But in a shifting world of secrets and deception, such fortune comes at a high price, higher even than the searing agony Dhamon suffers under the curse of a dragon's scale. High enough to cost Dhamon his life.<

Can a fallen hero achieve redemption? Or is there no turning back? Gripped by the curse of a dragon's scale, Dhamon Grimwulf fears death and the insidious power of his own demons. In a race against time and fate across the face of Ansalon, he seeks to atone for past misdeeds. Agents of a mysterious dragon stand in his path, and if he cannot overcome them, he will lose his soul.<

“Something’s wrong,” Feril said in a hush. Her nostrils quivered, trying to pick up the scent that was making the mounts nervous. Fury sensed a problem, too. The wolf threw back his head and howled, just as a bolt of lightning cut through the air-sideways, like a thrown spear. It pierced the neck of Feril’s horse, which slumped and died before it hit the ground. “Everyone down!” Dhamon shouted as he leapt from his mount and drew his sword. Crouched on the muddy ground, Feril concentrated and her keen elven vision parted the darkness, helping her distinguish the shadowy, moving shapes from the stationary ones of the low hills nearby. As she focused on the black forms in the distance, the bushes in front of her suddenly started to move forward. She scrambled backward and Dhamon raised his sword. Pointed white teeth stood out from the inky background.<

“At least they’re not real dragons,” Rig said, relaxing a little. His eyes darted back and forth between the two creatures blocking the exit of the cavern. The beasts flicked their barbed tails, flexed the claws on their hind feet, and took a step closer. Two sets of large, pear« shaped eyes bored down into the trapped adventurers. The motion of the creatures’ leathery wings sent the sand on the cave floor rushing away. “Wyverns,” Palin noted. “The brown dragons my lizard friend mentioned,” Peril said. “I’ve never seen anything like them,” said Blister, a hint of awe creeping into her voice. “They’re not nearly as big as the thing that killed Shaon,” said Rig. “I can take them.” “Take what?” one of the wyverns growled. “Something steal? Mad be master.” “Mad be Storm Over Krynn when comes!” exclaimed the other. The Storm Over Krynn, Palin mouthed. “This is Khellendros’s lair! We’ve got to get out of here!”<

“Too long has this world been without a dragon goddess!” Malystryx cried. The great red dragon reared back on her haunches, her neck stretched toward the heavens. “Too long has there been no undisputed power, no mighty voice setting the course of Ansalon. Now one has arisen. It is I, and I am all!” “Malystryx!” Gellidus roared. The air shimmered white around him, as ice crystals spilled from between his jagged teeth and instantly melted in the hot air. “The new Dark Queen!” Beryl and Onysablet cried practically in unison. Acid spilled from the Black’s jowls, hissing and popping and melting coins and bits of jewelry on the altar.<

Een groep verzetsstrijders probeert de VS te bevrijden van een vreemde overheersing.<