As night fell on the border between the human lands of the Central Astra Empire and the dwarven lands of Dwergaheim, the clang of steel and the rattling of carriages on freshly made trails could be heard coming from the north.
The beasts and critters of the forest fled desperately, as each and every man in the long procession bore the unmistakable stench of blood. The stench of murder. The men split into two separate groups as they sought where to set up camp.
Each of the groups nestled against the sheer cliffs of the North Ostwand mountain range, one to the west, the other further east, as the men grabbed their tools to build camp.
Loud voices shouted commands as trees were felled and processed, roots dug up and dried, and the woods cleared away to build. Thus, two hidden camps were born close to the border town of Osttor, unbeknownst to the townspeople and sowing the seeds of strife.
*****
Close to midnight, as the camps were established, a shadow darker than night itself drifted closer to the tent of the commander of one of the camps. It slipped inside, revealing itself to the occupant.
"Greetings, Commander. How goes the plan? Having any issues?" a pale skinned, raven haired man in elegant clothing stepped out of the shadow, speaking to the commander.
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"Good evening, Lord Pheles. Everything is proceeding smoothly so far. Are there any changes?" the commander reported, inquiring about further instructions.
"We'll proceed as planned. Since this camp seems to be in order, I'll move on to the other one and hear their report." leaving such words, Lord Pheles merged back into the shadows and left the tent. The murky shadows quickly left the camp under the starless sky of the New Moon, moving its mission along.
*****
At the Temple of Thaumar in a town of Soil Dwarves, a priest requested entry into his superior's office. Once it was granted, he opened the door and bowed, clearly only for formality's sake.
"Good evening, Eitrin. I came to let you know I've finished preparing for my pilgrimage." the lower ranked priest said to his superior, the Head Priest, in a friendly and familiar tone.
"Ah, Mimier! Good evening to you, my friend. Glad to see you before you depart. Are there any issues?" Eitrin inquired.
"None at all, I only wanted to bid you farewell before going, and I wouldn't want to get in the way of the precious little amount of rest you get by having you wake up in the morning." Mimier said casually.
"HAHAHA! I see! Thanks, old pal. I hope the journey goes smoothly, and we're able to meet again soon." after his loud guffaw, Eitrin said while grinning widely.
"Aye. I'll have to buy you an ale when I'm back, too. Can't very well catch up on a dry throat, aye? May Thaumar guard us until then." Mimier bade his farewell, leaving his friend's office and heading back to his own quarters.
Early the next morning, Mimier set off to the west, towards the Central Astra Empire, on his pilgrimage. Such journeys were nothing new to him, so there would no major issues. Or so he thought.