Mysteries

Aquilo

The clans had been gathering in Aquilo, boisterous and confident, bolstered by consecutive victories against their enemies. Even the most suspicious and harden warrior against the rise and leadership of Koshnem had to admit, that the Warchieftain had so far delivered on his promises. Their mountain fastness hearths were laden with plunder and slaves and the Odonine were once again in the warpath, this time to destroy the foreign devils and take their lands and secrets to themselves. Everywhere the shanty town was filled with the noises of hammering, with the fumes of smelting and the odour of unwashed bodies. Steel weapons and armour were being created as fast as the artificers could churn ore into metal. Those inclined for crafting and smithing among the clans were learning as much as they could from at the shoulders of the Helian artesians.

Shalia Nix stood at the entrance of the mine, north of the area they called Slag. Trains upon trains of emaciated Odsier slaves filled in and out of the caves' mouth pushing carts filled with ore to the brim. The Odonine still refused to get close to the place. Sightings of Neph'Kin in the depths of the mines abounded and no amount of persuasion could make the hardened men entered its black maw.

Somethings would take much longer to change, the Voice of Winter knew. She looked at the activity below in the fading lights as the furnaces glowed bright, like giant fireflies in the coming night. She turned and walked towards the camp not far to the west. No long now, she thought. A war like no other seen in the continent in aeons.

Her new entourage had been kept away from the clans as much as possible. Both Koshnem and herself thought it better. Better to keep the Brotherhood at bay for now. Until the time came to unleash them on their enemies.

A few men and women in black robes touched their hearts and foreheads, in the common Ozainae greeting as she approached the make shift camp of silken . She nodded her head at them. Amalu was out hunting, or so she'd been told. She had not seen him in a few days. She suspected their was more to it than was being shared with her, but felt it was nothing to concern herself with. Yet.

Her feet took her to the furthest fire in the camp. A small fire burned outside a small single tent made of oxen skin. A woman with dark eyes and light brown hair, holding a large leather bound book, smiled as she approached, her eyes never leaving the page she was reading.
"Welcome back sister." Ba'hela, the blood witch called out.