Studying the disappearance of lost Ackleberry even more closely after contact
was recently reestablished with it through Tolborolla Valley, my travels took
me from the Skarch and Dairuchi to Arthar'rt and even as far as Mt. Zoaka in
search of whatever knowledge could be found on the planar disturbances which
caused the famed disappearance of the old Commune and the two lost cities.
During this time I spoke to many Dracnari and learnt of a curious folk-tale
regarding the huge beasts that reside on their volcanic mountain, which I have
translated from its original Dracnari.

~

Once, long long ago, no Dracnari lived to wander the famous Mt. Zoaka, home of
the dragons. Alongside these great beings were only the wyverns, the dragons'
lowly cousins, and the tiny rockeaters who hunted the mountain's gorgeous
jewels to eat.

The wyverns were prideful creatures back then, shooting gouts of flame from
their mouths into the sky and chasing after the rockeaters, stealing the jewels
they worked so hard to find to adorn their nests for their hatchlings. They were
carefree creatures, and with nothing to threaten their eggs or themselves soared
happily in the skies above the mountains. One year, however, a bitterly cold
winter swept through the mountains. The volcano was not then as active as it is
today, and during such times even the couerls would have to huddle together for
warmth and hibernate through the chill. On this particular winter, a proud
wyvern mother sat in her nest, her shoulders hunched and leaning over her
precious egg, trying to shield it from the wind. "Oh, whatever shall I do?" she
cried. "If only there were some way to keep my poor egg warm until spring! If I
cannot, he will surely die!" Suddenly, she felt a tremor and heard a scratching
noise below her. "Whatever could that be?" she wondered. Dislodging a few
stones, the distinctive face of a rockeater poked out from the ground near to
the wyvern's nest.

"Pardon me, good lady," he rumbled cheerily, "But I was just passing by and
couldn't help hearing of your plight." "Tragic, is it not?" the wyvern wailed.
"I must keep this egg warm or he will perish...yet though I am a wyvern,
proudest of creatures (excepting of course the great dragons) my fiery breath
would surely kill him as well!" The rockeater pondered for a moment.

"Your fiery breath, hmm? Seems like that sort of thing does more harm than
good, to be honest! Why, I know an old rockeater who's blind in one eye now
after one of you batty lot sea-" "SILENCE! How dare you say such things about
my race? We wyverns have had a noble heritage as guardians of the mountain and
its treasures here for centuries! We are second in the world only to the great
dragons! Our flames proudly set fire to the sky itself, our beautiful wings..."
The wyvern trailed off, narrowing her eyes at the rockeater (who was now
attempting both to surreptiously gain her attention and disguise a most
mischievous look on his face.) "I beg your forgiveness, lady. I spoke out of
place. You are quite right that you are of the most proud beings on this
mountain - nay, in the whole Basin! And as for your egg there...I think I know
just the thing to help you save him!" Abandoning her irritated glare
immediately, the wyvern adopted her best expression of dignified gratitude.
"Oh! Oh, good s...sir rockeater, please, do tell me how I might save my child,
that she might one day soar the skies with me and build her own shining nest!"
"That I will," the rockeater responded, winking. "There is a secret spring, not
far from here. Many rockeaters visit it over the winter. Drink of its waters,
and your blood shall become as of lava!" Opening his mouth, he belched a gout
of steam that liquefied in the frozen air. "If you huddle together with your
egg, it will surely keep warm! However..." Instantly the wyvern looked
cautious. "However?" "However...in exchange for my showing you this spring, oh
-proud- mother wyvern...I might humbly request a favour from you in exchange.
You see, what with wanting to prepare these nests for your -noble- offspring
and all, you wyverns have been staying on the mountain a lot recently, and,
well, with these times lean as they are, it's difficult for me to get enough
food for me and mine. I'm sure you can understand my plight. After all, for my
young to starve would be as saddening to me as if, say, your egg there were to
-freeze-. So, with that said, it shouldn't seem like too much if I ask for,
oh...a few of the gems in your nest there?" With an abrupt choking sound in her
throat, fire shot from the wyvern's nostrils into the sky above. "WHAT? You
would DARE ask -" she fumed, then caught herself. Glancing down at her egg, she
visibly struggled through the words, "Y...yes. I suppose...I suppose such a
thing should be acceptable in exchange for showing me this spring of yours."
Gathering up a clawful of the many gems from her nest, she gave them to the
rockeater. He pounced upon the pile she had collected, eating a great many of
the beautiful stones right before her eyes and storing the rest in ridges on
his rocky back. "Well, then!" he said, smiling happily. "Shall we be going?"

The rockeater lead his way down out of Zoaka and along the mountains for quite
a while, the wyvern flying as close overhead as she could with her egg clutched
tightly to her. After a while, they stopped at the spacious entrance to a
cavern. The sound of hot springs and steamy geysers could be heard from inside.
"And here you are. Bathe yourself and drink from the springs while holding that
egg and he shall surely be kept safe over the winter." Shuffling away slowly,
he began to make his way back towards Zoaka, while the wyvern crept into the
cave. Seeing a convenient spring, she tested the water with one claw, and
finding its heat adequate clambered in, holding her egg as steady as she could.
But as she drank deeply of the water, a strange feeling ran through her. Still
she drank, and drank until a sudden whistling noise startled her. A geyser
erupted almost next to her, blasting steam right over her head! Startled, she
lost her grip of the egg, and it plopped from her into the spring. Quickly
darting to retrieve it, she noticed the shell of the egg turn from its pristine
white to an ugly, blotchy colour. Shocked, she breathed in and exhaled a great
gout of...bubbles? She blinked. Again she attempted to shoot flame from her
mouth, but nothing but colourful bubbles emerged. Realising she had been
tricked, the wyvern roared with fury!Grasping her discoloured egg she leapt
from the spring and out of the cave, chasing down the mountains until she was
in sight of her home. Sweeping her gaze back and forth through the canyons for
the wily rockeater, she saw something odd about her nest. Diving towards it,
she discovered that every last gem had been stolen from it! Screeching (and
bubbling) with impotent rage, she accidentally let her egg slip from her grasp
and buffet down the slopes into the depths of the mountain. Roaring and roaring
with shame and fury until her breath left her, she eventually sank down into her
nest and sobbed all through the winter.

One morning in early spring, the wyvern awoke to a chirping noise from the
valley below the peak her nest lay on. Curious, she dove down until she spied a
small reptilian figure, looking almost like a wyvern except for the difference
between its skin and hers. As she approached it, it chirped happily, then
blinked and breathed a spray of bubbles.

And to this day, the wyverns of Zoaka collect no more gems for their nests; nor
do they fly proudly in the skies and breathe jets of flame into the air; nor
have the rockeaters ever ventured near Mount Zoaka again.