Elven Enclave
Saleian did not like this very much. He had brought the spear back to New Haven, where the Earth Singers examined it thoroughly. The report they had given him was unsettling the say the least, and terrifying at the worst. Undead. The worst enemies of the Wood Elf people. Such abominations embodied the exact opposite of what the Imperium stood for. Before, Saleian had simply thought his people had been marooned on this island by chance. Now, he knew what the Pantheon had in mind for them.
In the clearing of New Haven, ten new Elven Warriors trained alongside the other five, all under the supervision of the Master-at-Arms. Saleian had ordered more training to be undertaken the moment he returned from his expedition. Along the borders of the settlement, everyone who wasn't training or farming were hard at work building a wooden palisade. Trees further in the forest had been delicately cut, and brought back to be formed into the walls that would defend the Wood Elves. Seeds had been left in their place, so that new trees would replace those that had to be used.
Food production had also been vastly expanded under his orders. Several villagers made regular trips into the woods, hunting game and going to nearby ponds to fish. Some animals had even been found that seemed docile, and had been brought back to New Haven to be domesticated. Every expedition was protected by three of the new Warriors, as Saleian had placed New Haven on combat footing. Pathfinders had also been sent out to attempt to find the source of the spear.
Saleian prayed he wouldn't have to lead his people to war.