People of Sapience,


Winter lies in our past; yet, the summer fast approaches.


The servants of Evil stand in the west, a barrier difficult to overcome. The mad dogs of Babel fester and froth in the North, their armies fearsome to behold indeed. The Bloodsworn zealots, raised their city on our eastern cliffs, careless of what they built it on. The Dark Thorn of the Northern Ithmia stirs and seeks to expand its influence, the woods are our domain, you were warned. Deep within mountains tall, the memory of that which was lost remains buried beneath the City of Stone.


Sapience... When you feel the delicate breeze of the warm summer wind caress your cheeks... lock your doors, board up your homes of civilisation; the wilds are awakening. So will we.




Blackthorn General,
Rangor Corten,
Guardian of the Wilds


Penned by my hand on the 13th of Aeguary, in the year 665 AF.