Angus is standing in front of me, sweating in spite of the cold. Worst spring in history. The scout has deemed the news important enough to rush through the unending staircase of Rath Chimbalth. The man takes a peek at the black treetops on the horizon. I follow his gaze.
– So that’s where the calling called him, huh? And the warriors with him… doomed.
North of Fomoria stands the dark forest of Cun Aral. For generations we have been at peace with the Bloodhenge Druids who haunt it. The occasional misfortune of some rogue hunter, charcoal maker or wandering mushroom amateur reminded the commoners that the woods were off limits. Rumors at the village wells depicted bloody offerings involving those who would not heed the warnings.
– What’s worse, looks like he enlisted Old Gwynn, who was on guard duty at the vault. Together they appropriated the bulk of the national treasure and spent perhaps a fourth of it to hire a retinue of ugly giant beasts from beyond the sea.
– Chief Treasurer Llodhwwebhewe will be furious. The next phase of the master plan will need to be postponed. By six months, one year… Seize the bastard in the unlikely event he manages to escape the forest.
After prophetizing my first commander, I send him to conquer the forest province with the help of mercenaries. My theory is that elephants eat dark vines. Dom3 veterans can note I hired a Fir Bolg druid, new addition to the national roster and an occasional student of Earth magic. The money will be tight at first and I will buy quite a few of those in the first year. Later on their utility will diminish and I hope to find cheaper, independent options for magical research.
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