Weaving expertly through the luscious foliage of the forest, you see a blur of a small figure looking around for a larger branch to settle on. As it slows to settle, you see what appears to be a miniature dragon with some type of motionless animal in its claws. Just as it is about to enjoy its meal for the day, its head snaps up swiftly. Darting its gaze back and forth, you see it transfix its gaze in your direction.

Might as well come out now,” you hear in your mind. The voice is strong, masculine and feral. “My name is Lumadian. When I am not with my companion John and Diane, I protect the forest from would be poachers.” Pausing for a moment the small drake takes a bite of its prey. Your mouth suddenly fills with a gamy, bitter taste. You hear something laughing in your mind as the voice continues, “Sorry about that, I often forget that I relay much more than my thoughts. I am known as a pseudo-dragon, probably by some human that thought the term would be amusing. And since I like to amuse, I won’t dispute it.

“This place just was created, and you are here at its start. I will be your companion, as we explore this realm and many others. As your guide, I expect certain things; to be cared for and pampered with tummy rubs, food, and an occasional gem. In exchange, I will show you around, tell you of upcoming events and let you explore and ask questions.

“If you are hearing these words, though, you are ere even before the birth of what is to come. You must be special to earn a place like that. You see, these are the creations of John DeJordy, an upcoming author.

Closing your eyes, your mind clears as you see yourself flying over the forest to the ocean and beyond. The vision continues, but blurs as your speed continues. You see just images flashing in your mind, a Halfling in brown and green leathers, a sinister tower, a dormouse wearing clothing standing like a human next to another clothed creature, this one being a squirrel. You feel a bit faint until you see the forest again and feel at ease opening your eyes. There before you is Lumadian, his meal long since consumed, the only tell-tale signs of it ever existing is the bulge in the dragon’s stomach.

My purpose here is to be your guide. Obviously you will have questions. Those are good. You might wander around yourself, taking in the sights of my home. Those are also good. You will be safe here. These are my trees, and John will quietly remain silent and let me discuss with you his goals.”

“By the end of the year – the year as you know it – of 2009, he hopes to have finished the final draft of his first novel, Transformations. You can read about it on his home site, by the tale involves five friends – John Dent, Diane Duchant, Jean-Luc Peyret, Charles Avery Thomlinson the third, and,” his voice stops for a moment and you hear a growl coming from his area, “Robert Humne. It involves their incredible journey from a town just north of Boston, Massachusetts in the last decade of the 17th century to a place where magic and creatures of the fantastic exist. To be more precise, to a place where we are now.”

“So sit back and relax. As I said, this place is waiting for its official ‘birth’. I will be your guide through it all.”

Lumadian breaks off contact with your mind and fly over to your shoulder. You feel his weight on your shoulder as he settles in like a content feline after it has had its meal. His nose tickles your ear for a moment as he closes his eyes for a nap, allowing you to explore at your leisure.

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