An Old, Old Trail
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Early Afternoon, the Tenth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic


Complication Dice: 2 of 6

"Warklegnaw all alone! Live alone! Die alone!" The giant's voice echoed down the trail, the voice rattling in its throat. It was a shadow of the ear-shattering roar the creature might once have given.

Warklegnaw brandished its (admittedly, massive) club in Alastor's direction, but still didn't advance. The slow, uninspired way in which it did thrust the club around clearly gave the impression the creature was sick. "Kin gone! No stories left to tell! You go! Smash you like paste if stay!"