A long time ago, in a small Moglin village near Stoneheart Fall, there lived a Moglin named Willow. Willow was small. Not just for his age, but for a Moglin in general. Visitors to the village often mistook Willow for a child and didn't, perhaps, pay quite as much attention to him as they should have.

 

Willow tried hard to find his place, but to no avail. He was too small to do much physical work, and his healing left something to be desired. He wasn't much good with the younglings, since they found it difficult to listen to someone even smaller than they were.

 

Now, moglins are generally kind by nature, and there was no cruelty in the way they treated Willow. They truly cared what happened to him, but sometimes even honest intent can be misread, and poor Willow eventually grew very sad because he felt he could do nothing to help his fellow Moglins.

 

Often, when Willow was sad, he would go out into the forest and meet with the creatures. He would carry on long conversations with the wild creatures of the forest, and they taught him a great deal about how they lived. Willow never discussed this with the other Moglins because he always felt they would tell him he was making it up. Willow, of course, had no idea that his ability to speak with the wild creatures of Lore was not a common one.

 

On one particular occasion, Willow was out walking with a tog, talking about running away and finding his own way in the world. Even as he spoke, he knew it was foolish. He was just a small Moglin, and not very likely to be able to defend himself. Suddenly, a loud roaring could be heard, from the direction of the Moglin village.

 

Willow ran as fast as his little legs would carry him to the top of a small hill where he could see smoke rising from the burning homes of his village. Tog agreed to let Willow ride, and they raced for the village as fast as the tog could run.

 

When they arrived, alas, the village was empty. All the Moglins had been rounded up and carried off. Willow was devastated. What could he do to help? He was the smallest Moglin ever, and now he felt smaller than ever before.

 

Willow was a capable tracker, and Tog agreed to help. So with Tog leading the way, Willow set out to find where the Moglins had been taken. Throughout the day and well into the night, they followed the trail. As they did so, Willow kept asking himself "Willow, what are you going to do even if you DO catch them? You're so small those bandits could just step on you." But Willow had no answer, he only knew that a good Moglin NEVER gives up on his village.

 

It took several days, but Willow eventually found the Bandits. He climbed a tall tree so that he could get a good look at the camp. You might not know this, but Moglins are natural climbers, and Willow was surprisingly good at climbing. From his vantage point, Willow could see the Moglins of his village, all being held in some sort of corral. The healers, however, were not there.

 

As I said before, Willow was small, but small doesn't mean stupid. Willow realized at once that the other Moglins were being held to force the healers to cooperate. Willow sat in the tree watching the camp all day. All day he thought and thought. How could he help his friends? Try as he might though, he kept coming back to the one important part; he was so small. How could he help his friends?

 

Willow climbed back down the tree, checked to be sure he wasn't seen, then slipped off to the river. There by the river, Willow made camp. Willow sat by a small fire eating berries and making a small model of the fort. He planned out idea after idea, but there was just no way he could free them on his own. He briefly considered asking his animal friends to help but still, he knew there was no way he could get enough help to do much.

 

Willow resolved to find help, and so he set out along the course of the river. Humans were often known to build settlements near rivers so they would have a handy source of water. Willow walked along the river for more than half a day, growing increasingly sad. There was NOTHING. Nobody was there.

 

Willow flopped down next to a waterfall, and there he wept. It was hopeless. He could do nothing to help. That's when he heard the voice. "Why so sad, young Moglin?"

 

Willow looked around, but saw nothing. Still, when someone asks a question, it's polite to answer, so he did. "I'm sad because the Moglins of my village have been taken prisoner, and I'm too small to do anything about it."

 

The voice chuckled. "Well, little one, let me assure you, you have a gift that very few Moglins have EVER possessed."

 

Willow sat and thought about it, but he couldn't make heads or tails of this puzzling statement. "What do you mean?" Willow asked. "And who are you?"

 

Suddenly, the waterfall parted and a giant head slipped out through the water. "Why, my name is Amaranth, and as you can see, I'm a dragon." The giant head turned towards the little Moglin. "You see, little Moglin, you can understand me. This is not a common gift. Your size, always holding you back; I understand you as well."

 

With that, the dragon slipped out of the waterfall and stood tall and proud. Sort of. The dragon, too, was small for his species. "Like you, little Moglin, I am small. However, I suspect together, we can be mighty."

 

"You wish to free your village." The dragon continued. "I wish excitement and a rider of my own." At those words, the dragon laid his head and neck on the ground. "Climb aboard and hang on! Let's go free your friends." Willow clambered onto the neck of the dragon, seating himself comfortably behind a ridge. With that, the dragon pumped it's mighty wings, and soared into the air. For the first time in his life, Willow was filled with true excitement. To be so high above the ground! To fly high with a friend. What a feeling!

 

As they made their way to the bandit camp, Willow quickly planned their strategy. When they arrived near the camp, Willow had Amaranth drop to the ground and they moved that way for a time, seeking out a tribe of gorillaphants that Willow had come to know.

 

Willow spread the word quickly, contacting all his animal friends. It may well have been the strangest army Lore had ever seen. Wolves and gorillaphants marched in packs and quickly surrounded the bandit fortress.

 

Inside the fortress, the bandits were racing around in confusion. What was this? What was happening? Where did all these creatures come from? As they came out, armed to deal with these monsters, a pack of gorillaphants parted, and the dragon stepped out, Willow riding high on his neck, holding a spear.

 

"Bandits!" Willow cried. "You have taken my friends and family hostage. Moglins are a peaceful race, but we will fight to protect ourselves! You have one hour to release my friends!" Willow nudged Amaranth, and up he flew. "See our power!" Shouted Willow, and down Amaranth streaked, shooting his breath at the gate of the fortress. Water struck the gate and he drove the gate clean off its hinges and back nearly twenty feet.

 

Amaranth hovered over the encampment, watching the bandits scramble to free his Moglin friends. The bandits may be dangerous, but they were smart enough to realize that this was a fight they might not win.

 

Little Willow and his friend Amaranth had won. Willow decided that the old village was unsafe since the bandits knew where it was, and so he led his friends on to build a new village well away from the territory of those bandits.

 

Amaranth stayed with his Moglin friend, and together they were the protectors of his village, the smallest dragon, and the smallest dragonrider.

 

Le cheile an beag a bheith laidir.