“As the sweat of dragons breath torments his dreams… the Nightwalker speaks. “The time for balance has come.”"

Visions pierce his mind of the homeland falling to the Iron Talons of the Dragon Kings, the rolling hills scorched as the few who remain flee beyond their reach. Fargrim wakes pooled in sweat and blood. Dead Orcs, five in number, lay surrounding him shredded by tooth and claw. Reaching for his shoulder and back, where the axes had brutally made contact, no wounds remain. It took a long time getting used to the wounds and pain vanishing upon changing back to his dwarven form.

He was ambushed while chasing down something to eat, the Orcs thinking a Dire Tiger was to be their meal… fatal mistake.

“Damn Orcs always know how to ruin a good meal, filthy animals”

It’s been a month or so since Fargrim left the “free” city of Ten-River. Taking leave of the Druid enclave in need of an escape from the city where power, and greed have taken over. He remembers fighting to establish the free territory away from the Dragon King’s reach a hundred and twenty five years prior. How time has taken it’s toll and the balance that once was… has drifted away.

Standing and gathering himself, a calmness has settled over his mind despite the rage filled battle and visions that flooded through him. The Forest has spoken after being silent for so long. Generations have come and gone, free cities have long turned corrupt and hope has seemed all but lost. Gathering some berries and grub to settle his hunger and then resting for a short while to regain his strength he then looks down to see his blood, and that of his enemies pooled in a way that only reminds him of the Redwine River. Some say that the destruction the Dragon King wars brought on the land stained the River for over a century. Balance must be restored and now he knows where he must go. Setting the Orc bodies ablaze. He begins pissing on the fire. “Come back as Orcs again and I’ll send you right back through the cycle” The journey will be long and tedious, but change will come, Fargrim Stormclaw then shifts into a Giant Elk and bounds off as fast as he can. Pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion for days on end he finally comes to a stop just at the top of a hill and shifts back into his Dwarven form overlooking the city of Ten-River. “What lies beneath this city will help restore the Balance to the land.”

The Druid returns….


Free City of Tenriver AdamMessner