Somewhere in the North High Pass, Third Age 2462
Two years after the end of the Watchful Peace
Day 7, Foredawn
Black blood splattered across the snow.
A hollow scream pierced through the air, and Díllothel drew back her two-handed sword. The orc that she had killed crumpled to the floor in a foul heap. She raised her blade up to cleave the head off another and let out a string of curses.
