Deep in the woods on the outskirts of Travance, a large mob of lizardkin gathered around a raging fire pit. Two of these creatures, both towering above their kin, were engaged in a tremendous fight. From the edge of the crowd a new comer with a headdress adorned of feathers and bones looked on with interest, absentmindedly rolling a small stone between her fingers as the two combatants fought. After many long moments, the fight was over, and the crowd erupted with cheers. The victor slit his fallen comrades throat, and as he dipped his claws into the lifesblood to smear upon his face, the wild creatures chanted a single word over and over again "Talon."

 

*     *     *     *     *

The tent was made of rough-hewn leathers, stitched together with crude tools. Around a table fashioned from fallen logs and furs sat four individuals. A skittering chatter came from the furthest corner as the kobold spoke. "They crush our bodies beneath their boots, our blood becomes their crops. Many treasure they have, much to take, and we have much to give." Brandishing a dart tipped with a green viscous substance for emphasis.

A female orc with the trappings of a shaman interrupted "Not yet. We need to know them more. We must understand them." She paused and looked at a stone with a golden glyph embedded on her staff and cut it free with a claw, tossing it to the kobold. "For your continued scouting."

"Enough." A large orc stood up from the table. "We waste time when we could have blood. Travance is ripe for the taking. Although they've beaten us individually, they stand little chance against our combined efforts. We will learn from them as we kill them. We are done here." He walked from the tent, with purpose in his stride. Pulling back a flap revealed a large encampment of dozens and dozens of other tents and fires. Onlookers stood in silence waiting. The orc unsheathed a massive two-handed sword from his back and raised it to the sky. The crowd followed in suit and cried out in agreement.

As he directs his gaze towards the night sky, you feel as though it is not the stars he is looking at, as if his words were meant for you. "We are coming for you and one way or another, you will join us."

You awaken the next morning feeling well rested and refreshed. Far off in the distance you hear a low steady drumbeat, and it's getting louder.

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"Those who carry the Light as if it were a burden do it more disservice than those who carry the Darkness as if it were a torch."

~Mother Remi Sylvane

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