Jaekob Arrives at the Hall of the Ancients, Part 1

   The journey had been overly tedious, long and often times, the Druid felt he was on a journey of no consequence, a journey of nothingness and headed toward a thing not existent. But, eventually following the old parchment with directions and drawings scribbled hastily, he came to the Halls of Honor, the home of the ancients, the dragon kin who taught the first Druids.
   As he entered, as he put his shoulder to the thick doors wrapped and trapped in vines and and every greenery imaginable, it slowly began to move. With another push and a loud creak, the door began to move inward, the Druid's shoulder pushing harder into the thick, splintered wood. And then, with a loud growl from the Druid, the door crashed inward and left him collapsed on the floor, his already torn tunic and breeches even dirtier than before.

the Druid in the Halls of Honor, Long Forgotten, Long Abandoned

   And there he lay on the floor, belly down and slowly began to push himself up with his dirty and worn hands. His eyes widened as the they began to focus on the home of the ancients, empty of life save himself and the plants which had pushed in through cracks and crevices to claim the warmth inside the thick stone walls.
   He took a step forward, his legs weak from the excitement of having found the place where life had begun in these lands. He knelt at the great statue that sat in the center of the Hall. He marveled that it, of all the things in the Hall, was untouched and perfect in its form. With a shaky hand he reached out to touch it and and quickly jerked his hand back when he found the thing warm and seemingly alive.
   It was cold in the mountains, in the passes he had made his way through to arrive at the home of the ancients. But there was a glow from the statue, a warmth and it was here he spread his bedroll and lay down for some much needed sleep.