A Shaman's Tale
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Valin paced around the hill top once more. He glanced at the inactive portal as he did before finally grunting and returning to the ruined tower that was his home. The Central Plains were full of nothing but orcs again, the Slaadi seeming to all be gone. Baragorr lay asleep against one wall of the tower as the what little remained of the tower acted as a wind break. Te large Dire Wolf that had been his companion for so many years acteds another and a source of warmth.
Sitting down and leaning against the large wolf Valin thought over the last days events and the word he had been receiving. Slaadi in Norwick and now in Jiyyd. Yuan-Ti and goblins, Orcs, and Eastlanders. Treaties between the towns and so many of these evils. Rumor was the Heyokarr still roamed the plains, the Druid Circle the Rawlins, and now Vashere with his mercenaries. Perhaps forces were aligning against the good of the land. Perhaps forces were finally beginning to align in balance.
Valin grunted slightly as he shifted to a more comftorable position. Chanting slightly he called the small animals to him. Whispering words in the druidic tongue he sent them off to find the Heyokarr, to find the Druids of the Circle, and to find Vashere. If they sought his council, he would be here. Atop the hill in the Central Plains with the ruined tower.
This was his home now. He would not live behind walls. He was a Narsman, a Shaman, a Warrior. Slowly, his thoughts ebbed and he drifted into sleep. The small animals around him keeping watch and ready to warn him should orcs or worse approach. His dreams were as troubled as the land seemed to him.
