Old Friends
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N'Jast. The old enemy. At last they have returned, and not as a mere goading diplomatic emissary prodding Peltarch's patience, but in numbers, and with clear hostility. With Norwick's earthquakes confirmed to have been from a N'Jasti dig site, which was collapsed by the miners and their guards, Norwick rallied red cloaks to stop their departing party and avenge the assumed dead adventurers (who later returned to Peltarch safely but severely wounded) the result was not pretty. The N'Jasti commander, a hulking half giant with two greataxes that he swung as if wielding wooden toys, cleaved apart those who had come to detain or defeat them. He walked away, armor coated from head to toe in gore, as his men carefully trailed behind him carrying a strange magical device.
Though they numbered only in three dozen or so, many fear they are the vanguard to a far larger force. Norwick's militia remain on high alert, as its scouts work overtime ensuring no N'Jasti spies were left behind. Those who travel the Nars do so with a hand on their blade, wary of N'Jasti assassins or crossing their cruel war party. They're back, folks mutter. They're back at last.
