The chase was going on for weeks and both his men and the orcs were growing tired of the cold, the lack of foot and the endless marches with highest tempo. For some reason, these Orcs did not head directly north to a harbour they usually used after a raid but north east. Rolf Beornsson, leader of the chasing militia troop had to admit that the Orcs suprised him with this decision. Now he was only chasing the raid party with about three quarter of his men, the rest waiting to ambush close to their usual harbor. These Orcs must be very desperate or completely insane, Rolf judged. A few days ago he realized the goal the Orcs were hastily apporaching - The Dragon's Maw. The bay at the end of the word, frozen forever by the magic of the Ice Dragons said to live in the northern part of Sabes' Shield. No living creature can witstand the fury of the dragons. Rolf was half in mind to order his men to return, back to Eikfirn, he could see several men shooting glances to him hoping just that. But these Orcs need to be taught a lesson for constantly raiding their villages and if he had to drive them into the dragon's maw himself, Apac help him, he will do just that! The next day the watch the Orcs march ove rthe frozen surface of the lake. Some of them stumbled, visibly exhausted, a few even slipped, but the ice hold the raiding party. Rolf squinted against the light of the afternoon, reflectig on the icy surface. Was there a figure approaching the Orcs from the middle of the maw? Impossible. He gave order for his troup to go afte rthe Orcs and set his foot on the ice. A roar sounded and immediately cracks appeare where his foot was. He heard shouts of surprise around him and watched how all along the border, the ice visibly cracked and then broke open. This was not the source of the roar, however, which grew louder and louder, a sound he had never heard or imagined before. Taking a few steps back, he shot a glance over to the orcs on the ice, who seemed to watch unimpressed by what happend a few hundred meters behind them. Only one figure ran towards them, seemingly speeding up…. but that could not be. That was no Orc. This figure was tall and slender, with an unnaturally long face and - they grew. Their armes flew behind them while they were running, as if they weren't on ice but solid ground. The arms suddenly took the form of wings, the chest of the crature grew in size, the legs got thicker, claws grew in size and a dragon took into the air. That and the suddenly growing storm of ice heading towards them was the last thing Rolf saw, before he and presumably all of his many turned around in panic. They ran, completely forgetting their exhaustion, forgetting their orders, forgetting their ideas of revenge on some marauding orcs, ran away from this cursed place at the end of the world, clearly abandonned by all the gods. The Dragon's Maw does not have it's name by chance - or because of the odd shape this bay is taking. This ever frozen bay is known for ist stories about dragons roaming the area, scaring away any mortal being that dares coming close to the domain of the dragons. No mortal of neither the humans, drwaves or elves have ever explored the areas beyond the Dragon's Maw. However it is rumored that some feral Orc tribe, living on an island called the Ice Flame, has somehow allied with dragons, bing protected and taught by them. To what end the dragons should lower themselves that far is beyond any explanation offered by any other race. Considering those rumors, the ever frozen area and the constant danger of Dragons it is no surprise, this area is completely uninhabited.