Daelin sat down atop the caravan. Looking out behind them and watching the area that the maw hounds came from. Perhaps he was being hard on them. Sometimes that's what it took though. Even the captain had gone soft here. The situation may have dredged up memories of old times in the veterans to hit them harder than it should have.

Daelin gripped the rail tightly and sighed. Out here one could think when they weren't caught up in complications. The air was crisp, the sky was beautiful and the sound of birds chirped like music. Their absence was always a sound of danger but for now they chirped merrily away. These wilds were wonderful when they weren't trying to kill you.

Marilyn jumped at the first note Flin played and turned to look at him, tucking something away into her pocket. She sighed in relief as the song went on and tugged at the reins with enough force to make the Venbu stir. Within a matter of moments, the entire Caravan sprung to life and Centaurus was back on track. As soon as they started moving, several more Maw Hounds began to follow through the hills, almost totally concealed behind rocky ridges and dirt mounds.

"That's a nice song," Marilyn said quietly. Ever since they got back onto the Caravan, she'd been even quieter than usual. It wasn't just the fact that she'd said almost nothing. Even they way she moved revealed how nervous she'd been. Little foot steps, tense eyebrows, and an effort to avoid coming into contact with anything as she moved through the Caravan. It seemed like she would break if anything even bumped her slightly.

Noru took Neale's body and gently placed it on one of the empty bottom bunks. "You can release this now," Noru assured Pyra, pointing to his compress. "Ilruvae." By now, the healing tincture that Neale has meshed into the man's bloodstream had caused his wound to scab over. Zay sighed and leaned forwards into the table, burying his head into both arms.

"How's it looking?" Zay asked, his voice muffled.

"How's it - Um. He'll pull through. But his wound is unlike anything I've seen before." Noru felt along Neale's shoulder carefully, sorting out the shards of bone as he waited for the man to reach a more stable condition. "This couldn't have been a small monster. The fractures and sheer damage to his tissue indicate a catastrophic amount of raw force being applied. It was a single strike, and it was precise enough that the rest of his body was completely unharmed. Aside from severe exhaustion, this man is otherwise, perfectly fine." Zay rose his head. "I think something sentient was responsible. They must have been very dangerous too, because..." Noru paused and moved his hand to Neale's insignia. "...I know this knight."



Just a Kilometer way from the edge of Berganfont's upper district, the High Houses, rested a place the held the majority of Shaidra's most devout followers. The Black Cathedral, a massive church the took up nearly 10% of the High district, and bled out into the wilds like a giant balcony, overlooking The Great Tear from high above the wretched canyon. It was like a bowl of black stone, hanging high above with giant pillars of obsidian supporting its girth from below. At the base of those pillars, beasts of different origins nested peacefully using the shade from the Cathedral as a respite from the harsh sun of summer.

From the massive balcony above the monstrous nesting area, several Bishops gazed down into the pit of darkness below. The Great Tear dug deeper into the earth than any other Canyon known to man. Across all of Thoris, the studious know of its sheer size, and the dangers within. Even in the light of day, the bottom lays far out of sight. To fall means death, and to explore is a fruitless effort. Many have gone to what some would consider the shallowest sections of the tear, spelunking for materials and information, only to return with loss and memories drenched in horror. The Bishops saw it as a holy place, though. Berganfont's history rests on the 'holiness' of the void below. Why else would the Nation exist so closely to one of the most dangerous places in the entire world?

"This noon speaks volumes," Father Morpheus heaved through a heavy surplus of phlegm. Three other Bishops leaned over the balcony by his side. They were all draped in the same pitch-black linens, emblazoned with two white insignia on either shoulder, several silver linings that wrapped both shoulders, and two more lines that reached all the way down to their feet from either armpit. One of the men standing there was slightly shorter than the rest, but the linings of his cloak glinted a different hue. Gold.

"The people have been quiet. It's only natural for Shaidra to speak to us now," Arch Bishop Ramon assured his elder. Morpheus managed a weak smile and coughed into the sleeve of his robe. "Her sickness will take you soon, old friend."

"I am ready to go. Far be it from me to fight what she has chosen for this old fool." Morpheus hacked up a glob of black mucus and let it fall to the stone at his feet. Part of him was taken aback, even though he'd seen the same thing many a time before. "I am grateful that my life has lasted this long." He turned to Ramon. "I assume you've been scouting for my replacement?"

"Let's not talk of what comes after, Morpheus," Ramon said quietly, patting his friend's shoulder, "We have matters to tend to. While you still draw breath, I hope to see you involved in that which gives you purpose. For now, your life still has meaning, and we will treat you with respect until you are gone from this realm." Morpheus nodded and smiled even wider.

"Righteous words, my friend." The sickly man looked at his fellow Bishops who all smiled back at him softly. "Then I shall continue, and follow through with my responsibilities. Hail to the void." The man moved his hands towards the center of his chest, crossing his wrists over one another and bending his fingers as they shook uncontrollably. A salute, or a prayer, to their ever present anti god. The other Bishops responded with the same sign. Their hands did not shake. Morpheus bowed and spun around to the center of the balcony, where a man rested on his knees with his hands bound behind his back, his eyes sewn shut, and his mouth gagged with a jagged stone. Blood poured from every orifice in his face, streaming down his neck in tepid streams that grew colder as they reached his bare chest. The only clothing he wore was a sheet of leather over his waist. His entire body had been shaven, and his back was covered in scars. Morpheus approached him with a soft smile and rose one hand towards his forehead.

"I free you from this cursed existence," Morpheus started, raising his voice higher with each word. The man before him leaned forward and sobbed, as if to beg for his life. "For the cursed study of magic, that which seeks to end this wretched world, and your facade against this organization. Be free." A spark of black light erupted from the Bishop's hand and connected it with his victim's forehead. The tortured man lurched backwards and his entire body began to convulse. Moans of agony ruptured through the stone that pierced his tongue and blood welled even quicker from his ears.

"Be Free!"

It only took a few moments. The light disappeared, and its target fell forward, lifeless. Blood began to pool around his head, but was soaked into the black stone beneath him, almost like it was magic. Morpheus let out a sigh of exhaustion and turned to his fellow Bishops with a smile. "It is done once more."

"Excellent," Ramon congratulated, "No matter the age, your Purge is unmatched, Father Morpheus. Jaime, Edna, the body..." On his command, two of the other Bishops ran over and picked up the corpse at Morpheus' feet. Ramon approached him as the two hurried past him with the body in hand, towards the edge of the balcony. "I will miss you when you are gone, Morpheus..."

The two Bishops heaved twice, and then chucked the mostly-naked corpse into the abyss below. As it plummeted into the great tear, they watched with a sinister smile plastered across their faces.

"...I hope you know that."

Flin smiled at Marilyn as she complimented his music. He always appreciated it when people praised him, especially when it was about his music. "Thanks! It's what I usually play to calm my nerves. We should be safer in here." He said calmly, looking out of the caravan while he continued playing for a moment, as he enjoyed the scenery. "So uh...besides that crazy encounter just now...have you been enjoying this whole trip? I'm glad that I can see more of the world, myself." He said. He tried to avoid rambling too much, like he'd done with Noru.

Lyullia slumped down onto the floor of the Caravan's roof as the fight came to an end. They were now safe - mostly - and the straggler had been rescued. She had managed to at least do something in the fight, even though it had had minimal effect.

Sighing, she grabbed the book that she had dropped moments ago to continue reading, take her thoughts off of the bloodshed.

Then, Daelin climbed up to the roof, shouting something to the people below. Lyullia gave him a polite nod as she turned to read her book. As much as she didn't want to, she knew Daelin was likely right and that there was more to come.

Moments like these made her wish she was back at home.

Marilyn wasn't sure how she should answer Flin's question. The wilds didn't seem to peak her interest, despite the fact that she'd never been outside the walls of Arcadia prior. She nodded absentmindedly and tugged the reins slightly as one of the Venbu veered slightly to one side.

"It's nice," She murmured flatly, "Nice to get away from Arcadia." There wasn't much else for her to say after that, but she wasn't satisfied with her answer. Marilyn turned slightly towards Flin and peered at him with one eye. "It's sad that we had to kill those hounds. It's sad that we're going to have to keep killing innocent creatures, especially when we're just supposed to be messengers."

Ilruvae nods, letting the compress disappear for easier convenience, although he stays nearby the man in case he’s needed. “So, who’s the man then?” He says tiredly, eyes flicking over the man’s clothes and wounds.

Flin's smile diminished a bit as he listened to Marilyn's words. "Perhaps we'll need to." He eventually said. He wasn't going to beat around the bush on this matter. He'd be perfectly honest about this, for her own good. "But there's no way to be sure. For all we know, nothing might happen for the rest of our journey. On most of my caravan runs, we were perfectly safe within our caravan, and no killing had to be done. Sure, we saw a great deal of creatures, but none of which actually managed to endanger us." Flin stated reassuringly, smiling a little more.

"Sometimes, we have to kill out of self-defence, for our own safety. But yeah. That fact doesn't make killing any easier to do." He stated with a frown. He wasn't the biggest animal fan, but he disliked killing as much as Marilyn did.

Zay looked Neale's face over carefully after Pyra's comment, and then glared curiously at Noru.

"You have him as a Captain before?"

"No, I knew him long before he was promoted. He's Neale Geroldus."

"This guy's a Geroldus?" Zay huffed in surprise.

"Yes. Apparently his mother is on the board at NAAM. Professor Vivian, if I'm remembering right," Noru explained. He looked Neale over carefully, keeping a hand against his neck to read his vitals with his personal brand of soul magic. "He was a troublemaker when I first worked with him. Stubborn as a Venbu, and damn near as strong too. Back then, I witnessed him take on a Colossal on his own." Norus snickered. "He almost got himself killed, but managed to scare it off. Might have saved the Caravan, actually." Zay looked away from Noru and began to think on it.

"Was it the Lok'Sha?" He mused. Noru sighed.

"I don't know." The medic turned to Pyra. "I doubt it though. Lok'Sha aren't known for letting people limp away. I don't think it was an Eldi, either. Certainly not a Myti. There's no way to tell for sure."

Back outside, Marilyn gave Flin a curious look. "They told us that Monsters are common at night," She whispered, "Was it just supposed to scare us into shape?"

Flin nodded at Marilyn. "Well, it's true." Flin said, leaning back slightly against his bench in a relaxed pose. "We shouldn't try leaving the caravan at night. As long as one or a few of us stay up as look-out, we should be able to tell if anything big approaches that can actually harm the caravan." He added. "But most of the time, we should be safe in here." He said with a smile.

"This job is completely flooded with 'should this' and 'should that' Flin. Nobody ever tells anyone anything straight. It doesn't matter if you're a grunt like us, or Yvette Eridal." Marilyn gripped the reins tighter and took her eyes off the Venbu to scan the surrounding landscapes. "For once in my life, I'd like to be assured of something significant instead of being strung along by the King of his Paladins."

Daelin sat down on the roof. He noticed movement from the corner of his eyes. Unable to determine exactly what it was through the trees he disregarded it. He glanced at Lyullia before taking in the air around him. "I like it out here. Sometimes quiet moments like this make the danger worth it. You can almost forget your troubles as you feel the beat of the venbu moving across the road, listen to the birds and feel the wind. Almost." He shrugged and fell silent as he kept up his watch.

“A... Geroldus?” Ilruvae asks, tilting his head a little, and looking at the injured man, Neale. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the name..” ”Should I be?” He thought, closely watching over the procedure going on for healing, simply for the sake of watching. He had never paid much attention to other applications of magic, although he would have liked to.

Flin shrugged. "I see where you're coming from. I'd like to be more certain of things, too." He admitted, with a smirk. "To be honest, exploring the world while going wherever I'd want to go would be great. Following orders without knowing the full picture is bothersome. And we're very limited to where we can go, with predetermined routes for our caravans. Private ones usually don't survive." Flin stated. He had stopped playing his guitar now, leaving it to rest on his lap. He could symphatize with her, he felt the same way.

"Being able to think on your own is still the best way to go, considering that many knights will keep beating around the bush. Because they withhold information for whatever reason, or they simply don't know the truth, themselves." He added. "It's irritating."

Lyullia looked up from her book. "Well, I can't say I disagree. It's nice out here, but the ever-present danger still means you can't really enjoy it to the fullest now, can you?"

Sighing, Lyullia closed her book again. "You've had experience with being on caravans, right? How 'common' would you say trouble is? And by that I don't mean breakdowns, I mean attacks and such."

Lyullia hoped that the answer would be 'not very common', she didn't like combat after all.

But she knew she'd likely be disappointed by the answer.

"The Geroldus family go way back in Arcadia's history of magical study. They have a hand in developing some of Arcadia's most useful devices, and have contributed quite a bit to the study of magical science in the last 300 years. They're also very rich," Zay explained, "Which begs the question: Why would one of them become a knight?"

"Stubbornness and a distaste for noble practices," Noru answered, "That's the gist of it."

Marilyn sighed as Flin went on. "Not much we can do about it one way or the other..." The Venbu stumbled for a moment, kicking up a hefty chunk of dust towards the driver's seat. Marilyn steadied them carefully without letting the dirt bother her too much. "I hope one day my actions can make a difference, though."

Daelin mulled over the answer. "I've had mixed experiences. There's been some trips where there were no encounters at all but those are generally few and far between. The wilds are always encroaching on the routes and no two seasons are the same for the beasts, especially of late." Daelin looked over to Lyullia and shared a forced smile. "The wilds aren't what scares me though. If something is going to eat me I can at least see it coming. I can do something about it." He dwelled on the real topic in his mind.

Politics were scary and Daelin, despite his demeanor payed attention to what he heard. "It's the cities I'm more afraid of lately. There's unrest in Arcadia. The slums and lower classes are getting fed up. If there's a civil war I want no part of it. And that's not all. I've heard the fanatics in Berganfont are getting worse. There's been more cases of disappearing civilians, even whole families than there were before. That's only what gets fed down the vine too." Daelin raised a hand to rub the scruff on his face, this time he started to share a genuine smile. "Don't let me depress you, even I get paranoid." He started to get up so that he could descend the ladder.

"I'm going to get some rest before night falls. Figure I can take first watch." Before his head dipped down into the hatchway he mentioned one last thing. "Just don't forget Lyu, not all beasts wear fur and claws."

Marilyn whipped the Venbu's reins and kicked Caravan Centaurus into full gear a few moments after she responded to Flin. Their speed steadily rose until they were darting down the trade route at a considerable speed, quickly enough that anything as small as Maw hounds wouldn't be able to pose a threat to them at all. That didn't stop them from trying, though.

A few thumps rattled the side of the cart's back end, followed by almost inaudible whining. Zay looked up from the table and frowned.

"Looks like those creatures are just as stubborn," He noted, tapping his hand on the table. As Daelin made his way into the common area, Zay stood up and headed outside. "I'm going to keep an eye out for a while. Noru, keep him stable. Py-" Zay stopped himself and forced a cough. "Pyugh.. Ilruvae, I'd advise you to get some rest. We'll be swapping watches at 8 PM. We should reach the Baeshri pass by then. If we're going to stay on schedule, there's no question that we'll be taking that route." Zay didn't wait very long for a response, immediately making his way towards the ladder outside of the common area. He nodded to Flin as he passed, and climbed up quickly to where Daelin had left Lyullia. He smiled at Lia and looked down at his watch.

2:10 PM. They were finally back on track to Marrenfall.



Atop a series of boulders that marked the start of the Baeshri pass, several Myti rested peacefully, obscured by cloaks. The edge of the Baeshri forest seemed quiet. No Venbu stomped past them, no beasts were prowling about, and there were no Wrecked Caravans to speak for. Just the three boulders, and the three Myti on top of them, one of whom was fiddling with a Psy-stone impatiently.

"Mistress," a man's voice hissed through a psychic connection. Sasha's ears perked up, and she rose to her feet atop the center boulder. The two Myti at her side turned to glance at her as she listened carefully. "We've news on Caravan Centaurus."

"News?" Sasha thought through the stone, "What is it?"

"They're off course. There's been a shift in plans. Blake's Caravan has already taken care of Caravan Cancer, and the sisters to the east have stopped both Caravans Epsilon, and Pisces. Centaurus and the hunting squad in Baeshri forest will be too close together if you remain there. Shift to the north, and keep to the trees. Blake should be able to take care of the hunters in your stead, and will meet them on the southern route."

"We can take care of both, runt."

"Lady Nix's orders."

"Tell her that we can take care of both, runt."

"I'm sure you can deal with it, but the time frame is short. The margin for failure rises tremendously if you choose to ignore orders."

"Myaaah!" Sasha hissed, hopping down off the rock.

"Merely shift your ambush site up Baeshri pass. Intercept them and proceed as you usually would. Caravan Sigma will pass by the pass and intercept Blake's crew."

"...It will be done." Sasha cursed under her breath in her native tongue, and looked towards the forest's edge.

"One more thing," The man's voice returned to her, sending Sasha into a small crouch. "Paladins have been present on all the Caravans thus far. Our information was inaccurate. Several sisters have died, as a result. Blake has lost a man as well. Nix seems just as confused as we are." Sasha grit her teeth and glared at the forest, not responding to the message she'd received straight away. With one hand, she signaled into the forest with a quick flick of her middle and index fingers. Several sets of eyes peered from behind camouflage, and began to move up Baeshri pass.

"We'll discuss compensation for her ignorance afterwards."



Caravan Centaurus had not seen much in the ways of impediment to their progress for quite a while. Noru spent most of his time sitting by Neale, keeping a close eye on his vitals. Marilyn, of course, tended to the Venbu without faltering, only occasionally taking a hand off the reins to wipe her face clean of sweat, check her pockets to make sure nothing had fallen out of her coat, or check her watch for the time. The Reins seemed to hold just fine, even after their bumpy stop. Lyullia's patchwork looked adequate enough for the time being.

A sputtering noise erupted from the common area, followed by a shrill gasp. Neale Geroldus had awoken, swinging himself forwards without regard for his injuries, and slamming his head against the bunk above him. The shaken wood made a rather loud thonk as Neale hit it, sending him back into a laying position almost immediately. Noru rushed to his side and grabbed his head to steady him.

"Captain! He's awake!" Noru shouted. Zay took his eyes off the surrounding area and nodded to Lyullia.

"Keep an eye out for a moment, Lia," He asked, before moving towards the hatch that lead down to the Caravan's bow.

Ilruvae tossed his Captain a salute at the order, noting the near slip, and promptly goes over to one of the fold down beds, shifting around a bit at its texture, which was a bit new to him, but eventually managing to fall asleep, facing the interior, with his back to the wall.

Flin had been enjoying the scenery while playing some adventurous sounding music, due to the faster pace that the caravan was moving at now. As Neale woke up, he abruptly stopped playing his music and glanced over his shoulder to see what the commotion was. He smiled, and relaxed again. But he decided to listen well. He was quite curious to learn about what happened to the man. He looked at Marilyn, and then back at the road. She was certainly commited to her task, which was surprising for newbies. "So far, so good..." He mused, closing his eyes for a quick rest. "If you need anything, let me know. Or just call for one of the others, heh." He said to Marilyn.

Neale was silent for a short while after hitting his head, but he managed to keep his eyes open. It wasn't long before Captain Copp was in the room, but his presence didn't change much. Noru leaned over Neale's head and glared at him, eye to eye. The injured Captain cringed and reached up with his good arm, pushing Noru's head back.

"Unsettling," He grunted, "But good to see you again, Lieutenant." Noru fixed his hair and straightened his uniform.

"You're lucky that we found you," The medic sighed. Zay slapped his right hand on top of Neale's armor a couple of times, like he was some kind of a dog.

"Yeah, lucky as a domesticated Venbu. Luckier still, that you survived a trip through Baeshri hills," Zay cut in. Neale looked at him quietly for a moment. He shaped his mouth to sound a few vowels, but it was to no avail. Then his eyes went wide and he pushed himself upright, letting his feet hang over the edge of the bunk. Zay took a seat nearby and waited for the man to compose himself.

"Where am I?" Neale asked sternly.

"You're on board Caravan Centaurus. We're on-route to Marrenfall, currently traveling via the eastern Trading route. A simple supply check, estimated to last 7 days time. I'm Captain Copp. On board are six lieutenants..." Neale looked at Zay, patiently waiting for him to explain further details. But when Centaurus' Captain went silent, he seemed worried. Zay adjusted himself and crossed his arms. "Expecting more?" He whispered.

"No... No, I don't know what I was expecting." Neale leaned into his hand with a groan. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours," Noru chimed in. "We found you with a severe shoulder injury. You barely had any blood left in you by the time you'd reached us. That fact that you're still alive is a miracle." Neale quickly moved his hand to feel along his right shoulder. It felt normal, minus the scar running along his clavicle.

"Huh. I would have expected to lose that arm after pushing myself so much."

"What happened?" Zay asked eagerly. Neale lowered his good arm back down to his side.

"What didn't happen?" Neale grunted.

"Helpful," Zay quipped. Neale glared at him and cleared his throat.

"I wasn't expecting to be interrogated straight away. Who are you, anyways?" He looked around the room at the knights, both sleeping and awake. "I don't recognize anyone except for Noru. And the name Copp doesn't ring any bells."

"No, why would it?" Zay hissed through a snicker.

"Arcadia is a big place, Sir," Noru insisted.

"Not big enough, evidently." Neale grunted. Zay rose an eyebrow at his comment, but shrugged it off right afterwards. The newcomer stared at Zay, waiting for a formal introduction. Centaurus' Captain rolled his eyes.

"Captain Zay Copp. Noru's already told me about you, so skip the pleasantries. What I'd like to know is what happened to your arm, and your Caravan." Neale puffed a bit of air through his nose and put on a fake smile.

"Some guy with a big hammer smashed it, right after killing everyone on my Caravan." Zay and Noru didn't react. Neale's smiled melted away and he leaned forward.

"That wasn't a joke."



The Ruliman Plateau reached high into the sky, reflecting beams of sunlight back up into the clouds from the shining quarters of Warchief Lu'Li'Po. Her tented hut was adorned with gemstones and glimmering fabric from origins unknown, and stretched wide across the highest point of Smor'Gen'Blok. It looked more like a miniature fortress than a simple war tent, but from within, all national dealings took place under the Warchief's guidance. It wasn't nearly as heavily guarded as one might've imagined, but the men and women inside were a formidable force to be reckoned with. If anyone was foolish enough to run into the War Tent with intent to cause harm, they would find their last moments extraordinarily unpleasant.

The two closest peaks, sitting only a few hundred meters beneath the top of the Ruliman Plateau, were nestled closely into the sides of the mountain, meshed in like the shoulders of Smor'Gen'Blok's great Nation. On one of these surfaces, the largest of the three, was where the Berserker's Shrine stood, structured even more prominently than the Nation's more important quarters. Stone dividers cradled each-other closely, resulting in a multi-layered outer wall that hugged the outer edges of the plateau. A single wide open arch-way lead into the inner sanctum of the shrine, where the Berserker's Holy Flame burned indefinitely with various yellow hues. The outer walls of the shrine held Smor'Gen'Blok's most frightening warriors, as well as relics of untold power that only the Lok'Sha could wield with any success. If there were a pivotal point of interest within the practical stronghold of Ruliman, it would have been right there. The open gate and widen open training area were a deceptive execution grounds where many arrogant Lok'sha met their ends. It was also here, atop the second highest point in Smor'Gen'Blok, where the previous Warlord met his end at the hands of Arcadia's Late General, Father Maxie Tremm. At the expense of his life, the grand Paladin Father brought an end to Koal'o with the aid of his follow knights, bringing an end to the second great war atop the peaks of their enemy's Nation.

To the opposite side of the highest peaks, resting dormant on the third highest stretch of flat rock, were the ruins of Smor'Gen'Blok's devastating weapon, the Fwoo'Sha. This artifact no longer holds any importance, present only as a remenant of Smor'Gen'Blok's once oppressive power, and a reminder to refrain from challenging the world's combined might. The Fwoo'Sha's history remains shrouded is mystery. Nobody quite understand how it was mounted atop Ruliman. It wasn't built by the Lok'Sha, that much was certain, but its complex inner workings spoke volumes of an ancient technology capable of wiping out droves of soldiers in a single blast. The now misshapen husk of stone was torn to pieces by the forces of Marrenfall during the second great war. The Lok'sha will never again be able to use its fierce power to defend their Nation, or see to the complete control of Ruliman's surroundings.

These three peaks, the Lok'Tri'Sha'ra, signified Smor'Gen'Blok's resolute composure. Massive staircases, crude in their craft, lead down into the Great Tribes, home to some of the most respected Lok'Sha in all of Smor'Gen'Blok, as well as some of their most well guarded secrets. Lok'Sha that found a place in the Great Tribes did not do so through strength and brutality alone, quite the opposite, actually. The predominant tribes that rose to the highest rungs of society were clever, careful, and conscious of their surroundings. Even the most aggressive Tribe out of all the Great tribes, Great - Shaka, were known for their chieftan's capacity for strategy and tactical genius during the second great war. But it was for that reason alone that the Great Tribes made up a microscopic fraction of Smor'Gen'Blok's overall population. It was also for this reason, that the lower rungs of Ruliman were littered with bitter Lok'Sha that would seek to overthrow Lu'Li'Po's rule. As time passed, Tribes that even the Late Warlord Koal'o respected were sullied with rumors and prejudice from the dark caves below. Throw any word of mouth into the wide spanning networks throughout Ruliman, and it wouldn't take too long for its people to twist any rumor into something terrifying.

Some Tribes were resolute enough to shrug off the encroaching mindsets that polluted Smor'Gen'Blok however. One such Tribe - Perhaps one of the smallest tribes in the entire Nation - was buried deep beneath the earth where the Low Tribes rested in darkness. The Low - Kul Tribe was a small grouping of Lok'Sha that coexisted peacefully alongside their brothers and sisters of the Deeper tunnels. Under the guidance of their benevolent Chieftain, Ha'Kul, the Low - Kul Tribe has been acknowledged by higher tribe as a progressive example for the surrounding tribes. However, news like this was not immune to the twisted butterfly effect of Smor'Gen'Blok's National Communication. It took only a decade for the Low - Kul Tribe to be robbed of its notoriety among the High Tribes by the smothering practices of those that stood between them and the surface world of Ruliman.

Ha'Kul sat by the Tribe's Hearth Stone with one hand planted firmly against the carvings that lined its smoothed surface. It was early enough in the day that he held no worry of interruption. For a Chieftain to wake long before his people was common practice in the Low Tribes. It was his Duty to uphold the aura that protected them from the tunneling horrors below Ruliman, after all. If the Hearthstone were to lose power for even a few minutes, all Lok'Sha nearby would be put at risk. Ha'Kul Murmured quietly to himself as he continued to imbue his mana into the ancient stone. For the Lok'Sha inept in Mana retention and Node care, men like Ha'Kul were a closely guarded rarity. Repairing Nodes after Node Death may have been possible, but such use of soul magic was extremely dangerous, even when pitted against the hardiness of Lok'Sha Physiology. It wouldn't be long before his family and friends awoke to the ritual...