Ben, do you want to get us back onto the track of the adventure?

I don't, I don't, David, I don't know how.

Friendship is forever.

Friendship never ends.

It doesn't matter what time you're in.

You're still a dragon friend.

A fucking dragon friend.

The third age is an age of order of control and of absolute obedience to the one they call the controller.

Castas the archmage entombed within his flying citadel of Never that benevolently watches over the suffering people of new Ilanar.

Forced to siphon off precious life force to maintain Nevers' failing systems,

this is a people whose lives are piteous and wretched,

but they do it with devotion for the promise of something more a life eternal

in the service of four gods that they call the dragon friends.

Those gods are back and the situation is quickly deteriorating. The basilica of the Basternets is occupied

by troll of forces. The philgites have been exiled from their ancestral homes. The Frizomites cut each other open for the right to be the first to kill their own God.

But one sect, we have seen very little of, that secretive shadow cult of the god of secrets,

devotees of one Robert Pancakes, halfling scoundrel.

With a gathering of followers of every faith, you have made your way even now

toward the House of Pancakes, traveling those secret stoneways of the Philjites.

There is blood on the streets.

A priestess is imprisoned, a Netherese lodestone identified in the wastelands beyond the city,

and a halfling.

...