Ramhir's Profile

The peddler was pulling odd things from his pack, extolling each as he laid them down – one shoe that changed colors, a knife carved from wood, a mummified bird. “And this,” he said, pulling a 1 foot square box of stone out of his pack, “is all the friends you will ever need.” He opened it up, showing the carved stone statues of warriors inside. He took one out and stood it on the ground, where it changed to flesh and blood, stretched, then pulled the sword from its sheath and saluted them with it. “An army in your pocket! For a mere thousand gold! A bargain!”

The Ska'ag warrior lay in his hide, watching the intruders.

“The Makers,” he thought. It had been many generations since the last one had died, but there was no doubt. They were back. “I have to warn the People.”