The steed ran ceaselessly into the hills. For fifteen days Lifera pressed on up the mountains into the north lands. True the Steel Desert would be an interesting place to spend a few years, but it didn't have resources like he knew the northlands did.

The mountains he traversed were dangerous in the winter, and it was a good thing he had selected early summer to start this journey. Even he didn't much like getting caught in a blizzard, and it was more to his point to head out and keep going, instead of having to hole up somewhere.

Even so, the high and rocky peaks were covered in ice and snow, and it rained regularly, freezing upon hitting the ground. The steed's hooves were probably frozen solid as it plodded along.

When the steed breathed a hard glassy last breath, and toppled below the tall man, he cursed at it. More, he cursed at himself - the spells keeping the beast alive and kicking had wore off and he didn't remember to reload it. There would be a lot of walking in his future.

Except that he could bring the thing to a state of unlife, and that he did without hesitation. Another two weeks of travel and Lifera met up with the first signs of habitation in these cold high peaks.

A pale skinned young man, and an equally pale girl, obviously having some kind of romantic interlude. The steed Lifera rode had a stench around it like that of a dead beast - he made no effort to conceal it. It was starting to look quite ragged around the edges as well, and gauntness had stolen the flesh from its sides and face.

The woman clutched her bodice to herself, and then clung to her young boyfriend. He stood bravely in front of her for a moment, and then took her hand and bolted away.

They would be running toward their homes, surely, not a survival trait. He followed them.

Lifera did this for two years, haunting the barren hills and the spring festival grounds... Loving every second of it.

But there came a time when he remembered his goals and took flight again. His undead steed was now all but skeletal, shrouded in hard skin and nothing else. An aura of both vile and powerful magic eminated from the beast. It was no more intelligent than it had been before, but it was alive and didn't have to eat. Nor sleep.

As Lifera crossed the northern mountains, and began to descend into the more temperate climate of a huge valley land below, he pondered how to introduce himself to the tribal folk living in colorful huts down there.

The spirit of death personified? That would do.

When he was about to put spell after spell upon himself to make his appearance so terrifying that the first couple people would just about drop dead from looking at him, something odd happened.

A colorless light caught his crimson eye, and he turned to see a form coming out of the sky. It had grace, style, wings... A dragon.

"Here? A dragon?" He muttered, and the steed snorted a breathless hateful noise.

Yes, a dragon, here. Come with me. I've use for you and I think you will be pleased at the results. It will help you too. The dragon thought into Lifera's head. He was annoyed at the intimacy of the contact, but he knew that the dragon meant business.

He was sure that this blackish green dragon was female, the voice perhaps? But she was quite insistant. He paused only a moment.

"Where are we headed?" He asked, dismounting and casting a preservation spell upon the steed so that when he got back, it would still be there waiting.

CyDragonstake. The dark sands, Nero sands if you will know. Now, come here. She held out her sharp arms, and even Lifera was hesitant. This dragoness looked like she would and easily could snap his head off.

It is good that you fear me. But you will fear my anger if you do not come. I have laid eggs, and you will bond to one of them. Their sire will eat them if I do not get back now. Come.

So Lifera headed out, with a dangerous black and green dragoness to a place he'd never heard of, with the first fluttering of wonder and the next of delightful fear in his chest.