All the world was engulfed in fire, consumed by great tongues of flame that roared and snapped like tormented beasts. In the center of this burning world was a clearing that was not touched by fire. At the center of the clearing was a sorcerer dressed in rich silks and sleek furs, and adorned with gold and jewels. Behind the sorcerer stood an army of black-clad warriors, armed with bright steel and hungry for war. As the sorcerer scanned the glowing skies, dragons of many sizes and colors appeared and descended until they had filled up the clearing. Unlike the warriors who stood at stiff attention, the dragons moved about with angry energy. A great silver dragon landed next to the sorcerer and glared at him with hateful red eyes. The sorcerer looked up at the dragon and stared back with eyes that glowed red in return. After a moment, and without taking his gaze off of the silver dragon, the sorcerer made a waving motion. A number of men came forth and went to the smaller dragons and mounted them. The mounted dragons twisted and writhed, and then took to the sky as the riders fought to control them. The other, larger dragons followed, and as they rose into the air the silver dragon stood on its hind legs and stretched out its leathery wings, and it aimed a furious gout of dirty red fire straight up to the heavens. Then the silver dragon took off and flew to the head of the host of circling dragons. As the dragon armada flew away, the sorcerer made a new sign and the black-clad army began to march into the fire, and the fire leaped hungrily.