On the side of a cliff stood a white stone gazebo. Mist fell from a great waterfall that stretched beneath it, vanishing into the clouds below. A black mountain rose up behind it, seeming to touch the sky. A circular marble table covered by a complex game-board sat in the centre of the gazebo. The edges of the board stretched into the distance while still somehow filling a defined space. Seven ornate figurines sat upon the board – a dragon, an elf, one human, two dwarves, a gnome, and a beastfolk.

    Eight Gods sat around the board, each radiating an aura of power and majesty.

    Two of them were drunk.

    “Barck, I swear that I will tie your beard to a tree and toss it off the waterfall if you don’t stop giggling!” The Goddess Lunara, the ebon-skinned elven Goddess of Law and Order snarled.

    “I cannae halp it Lunara!” The cheery dwarven God of Spark and Innovation sniggered, holding a large glass bottle to his chest and giving it a hug. The bottle sank into his green beard and vanished from sight. “This new beer from Minnova causes laughin’. They call it Gigglebrew!”

    “I *hic* prefer this eisbock of Peter Roughtuff’s.” A morose voice sighed from further around the table. “Helps me forget...” Midna, the human Goddess of Spirit and Communication, took a giant swig from a black Whistlemug. Then she belched and crashed face first onto the table.

    Solen, the dragon-headed God of Chaos and Freedom, frowned at the pair of drunks. “Can you two pay attention for a moment? We’re about to vote on who gets all the Karma coming out of Crack. Lunara, you may say your piece.”

    Lunara stood tall and regal, her gown of moonlight spilling around her. “As you all know, my Chosen Catalyst was the one who instigated all the Change happening in and around Kinshasa. I believe Thad Harmsson should receive the resulting Karma. While he may be in prison and unable to affect much Change himself, he still has a hand in it as Minister of Finance. Additionally, none of the aforementioned Change would have occurred without his actions. Peter Roughtuff, while he may have been involved, was not directly responsible and should not receive any of the Karma. I ask that you vote to direct all the Karma resulting from Crack’s political state to my Chosen.”

    There was brief applause from the tiny gnomish Goddess of Matter and Possessions, Tiara. Lunara nodded severely and stepped back from the table.

    “Barck, do you have anything to say?” Solen asked.

    “Uh oh! He always has lots to say!” A young human girl giggled – Yearn, the multi-faceted goddess of Nether and Relationships squirmed in her chair. “Can we vote now? I’m booooored.”

    “Aye, I got lots to say.” Barck said, calming his giggles. “But I’ll keep it short. None of what happened in Kinshasa were ‘cause of ‘yer lad alone, Lunara. Pete is just as deservin’ of that Karma as anyone else. The only reason this is even an argument is ‘cause yer a namby pamby sore loser. ‘Sides, you already got what you wanted. Why’re you complainin’?”

    “Says you.” Aaron, the antlered beastfolk God of Aether and Exchange muttered. “Not all of us have been so successful. The only one of us that’s seen more Change in their Portfolios than you is Archis.”

    So saying, he conjured a hunk of meat and tore into it with a frustrated growl. He went at it with gusto, and Solen edged away from the splatter zone.

    “Hmm....” Solen rolled out the word, clearly taking pleasure in Lunara’s discomfort. “I think I’ll vote for.... giving all the Karma to Harmsson.”

    “WHAT!?” Barck yelped. Lunara clapped her hands with pleasure and gave Solen a beaming smile.

    “Why the change in heart?” Archis asked.

    “I just wanted to watch Lunara squirm.” Solen smirked, then pointed at Barck. “And shove it to you. You’ve been getting a bit full of yourself, Barck! You’re lucky I even let you back in!”

    “BAH!” Barck harrumphed. “I hope you get knots in yer beard. See if I share any of these new beers with you.”

    “I prefer elven wine. I have refined tastes.” Solen sniffed. "And my scaled skin is immaculately clear of anything so vulgar as follicles."

    Tiara’s gaze on Solen grew sharp. “You’re in a good mood. What happened?”

    Solen shifted guiltily. “Nothing.”

    Aaron went ramrod stiff and his eyes grew vacant, as though his vision was elsewhere. A moment later he hissed, “The dragons! The dragons are gone!!!”

    “What did your Chosen do?” Tiara asked with horror. “What did he do!?!”

    Solen chuckled, then guffawed, and then his toothy roaring laughter filled the gazebo and echoed out over the waterfall as it spilled out into the universe.

    Far, far, down below, cutting through the mists that covered the great ocean that lay between the continents of Drakken and North Erden, the race of dragons winged onward, a great black behemoth at their helm.

    For the first time in eons, the dragons were on the move.