What of the Shaktaar, that ancient enemy, the proud dragon-men? Where once shining cities stood like jewels across the mountains and plains, now only shattered rocks crumbled on barren earth. Once home to a proud people, now but the most silent refuge.
Yet, only fools entered such places, lured by lust. Not lust for gold or silver, worthless metals without redemption. Lust for iron. This was man's undoing in the age of death. For the Shaktaar lurked where once they ruled, and stalked interlopers unseen.
The dragons were artful, cunning and insidious. They had but to lay their traps, and wait. More so than men, the Shaktaar required meat. Human flesh, once a delicacy, became the staple, all too willing to deliver itself for want of treasure.
