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What came to pass then - the tragic end of both armies
in one last, terrible act of magic by Fistandantilus - was
now old history. Of those who might be old enough to re-
member, few cared to.
But through it all, the shattered north portal had held,
as had all of Thorbardin's defenses. More than two cen-
turies later, the undermountain kingdom still stood.
Concerns about threats from outside were no longer
acute. In very recent times there had been unsettling ru-
mors, of course - rumors the traders brought, about mi-
grations of goblins and ogres to the north, about whole
villages disappearing in distant places beyond the north-
ern wilderness. Some suspected that, far off somewhere,
armies were being amassed, and there were whispered
comments about "Highlords" and infamous plots. Some-
one had even claimed to have seen a dragon, but no one
believed that. There were no dragons, not anywhere on
the entire world of Krynn. It was common knowledge.
There were rumors, and a few were concerned, but life
went on in Thorbardin as it had for two hundred years.
Some trade had been restored - not as in the fabled past,
before the War of the Gates, when open trade roads had
linked Thorbardin with Pax Tharkas and other realms -
but some trade with other places and other races outside.
Time had passed, and the old legends of a secret gate
somewhere passed also into oblivion
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