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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Knightfall" data-source="post: 2688950" data-attributes="member: 2012">Teller of the PastThe World Goddess watches helplessly as the tabaxi move with grim determination and a thirst for blood. She is loath to interfere but knows she must act to give the denizens of the Lands of Harqual a fighting chance. She whispers in the Lord of the North’s ear, far to the north in the Sunless Lands. The North God known as Cronn stirs from his half-frozen slumber for only a moment in time. He touches one mortal mind.A young barbarian priest dreams of death and destruction reigning down upon the Lands of Harqual. He dreams of his divine lord, frozen on his throne, Cronn’s eyes breaking open through the ice of centuries. He here’s the words, ‘He returns’, in his mindscape.‘What can I do?’ he asks, as the dream images of the tabaxi spread beyond a dense jungle to threaten the lands to the north and to the east.‘You must warn them’ speaks the divine voice of Cronn. ‘You must speak the past to them’. The young man watches in horror as the tabaxi come to the edge of the Twilight Valley, his home. He watches as the tabaxi come in waves of hate and destruction, the voice speaking to him again ‘It is the future of your people you see, if you do not act’.‘I am just a priest, Lord Cronn. I’m not a hero’.‘Aye, yours is the task of warning and aiding those that will fight. You are not to go beyond the Wild Plains of the west. Disaster will befall the entire world if you do. Now go!’The young man awakes. His breathing is heavy and his lean body is covered in the sweat of the dreaming. He knows his purpose, but still he wonders if his lord chose the right person. His eyes clear enough to see his home around him. The logs of his wigwam cabin rise high into the air, wrapped in the skins of dire caribou. The construction is a messing of the old ways and the new. The material of a southerner’s trapping cabin and the design of a Northlands barbarian’s teepee. The wigwam cabin would seem odd to a southerner and overly grand to a barbarian from a more traditional tribe.However, the tribes of the Valley of Twilight were not stuck in tradition. Sure the construction of most of the region’s structures were based on traditional design, yet they were built out of not just logs, but brick and stone as well. The dwarves of the Greystone Mountains had long been allies of the Tribes of Twilight and both cultures had learned much from each other over the centuries.The young priest shook his head to dislodge mundane matters. A new world was dawning for everyone across the continent and he knew he was the only one who could warn them. He looked around and quickly took note of what he would need for the journey. He only hoped the elders of the twilight tribes would take the world of simple low-blooded priest. He put on his most traditional clothes, gathered his medicine bundle, and headed for his wigwam cabin’s main doorway.“They might not believe me, but I have to try. If I can convince Spiritwolf then the others just might hear me out.” He knew there wasn’t much hope, however. Spiritwolf was known to be stubborn and willful. Yet, regardless of their decision, he would make the journey, even if he had to leave everything he knew behind.*                                        *                                        *</blockquote>

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