Bitter taste the western waters..  (wonder ye never what the horizont hides?)  And bitter are the tales and stories of  the sea whose waves now beat against the  stones in the cold and dark north..    They speak often of dragon  islands..Beautifull yet terrible beasts..  Dealing death and destruction as they spit  their fires of malice..    Even far away cities in the darkest deeps  of the oceans..Of kingdoms none ever saw..    And the western jewel city..Standing proud  and lone at the western coast..  Not knowing that soon their crystal  heavens and distant spheres would be the  houses of armies of spirits, and their  beloved city was doomed before it was  raised by hands now dust in a traveller's  tale or song..    Few memories remain for the descendants  are few and listeners are less..  Who doth now worship the gods of old and  hold their names dear at heart?  (did not that there old man wear a queer  looking necklace?)  Aye! How forgotten are not the ancient  days...