It was in the Age of the Wind that the first life of Scregor came to a close. For, though he had reigned over the lands of Garateck for centuries, a group of elves had sought to do him in. Having heard of the great prophecies of old, he learned that one day a mighty dragon would scour the lands of Taverak and free all dragonkind from persecution. However, he was wrong.
Would-be dragonslayers were common in western Zarhanna, but Scregor knew that this small group was not like the others. They were Wind-Riders, the sole nation of elves who retained the powers of old, and these particular ones of a descent even stronger than most Wind-Riders. But it was the human woman who surprised him, however. She bore an enchanted pike, and when he first looked upon that he felt something he had never felt before. Absolute terror.
He felt the aura of power radiating from the pike before she even brought it near him. It was a terrible aura that spelled death for any of his kind should it come within physical contact with him. He tried to avoid it, but the woman was fearless, and walked through fire, and plunged the deadly spear into his mouth.
When the terrible magic washed through his body, he knew that he was done for, and he cast about for the first thing he could find: his war-drum. The drum that was his namesake just might save his soul, if not his life. With his dying strength he locked himself into the drum, so that when it was struck his draconic soul could find a new, living body in the form of an unborn child. It was a last resort, but for it the spirit of Scregor would have never survived.
Then, Elen the Excellent walked up to the war-drum and struck it. Instantly freed, the spirit of the dragon coursed across the gap between worlds, into the tiny body of an unborn child, somewhere very far away...