Drorodin

Travails in Telara

Blazes it was hot. Ondroas wiped sweat from his brow as he circled his foe, a hulking Defiant wielding a massive mace that he knew how to use with unerring precision; he wasn't just big or smart, but both, and such a rare and powerful combination made for a potent foe indeed. They paced a tight circle around one another, kicking up little sand devils as they drew their defensive lines. Carrion had begun to circle overhead only moments into the fight, famished and expectant.

Scarlet Gorge was a hell of a place, a rolling expanse of sand dunes and dusty bones bleached white by the sun, peppered by what passed for civilization out here. It was a frontier of sorts, as each sandy cliff and wind-stripped hilltop potentially contained rich minerals and valuable ore, and both sides of the Telaran Divide had taken great interest in the lifeless land's hidden promise. Ondroas had come here seeking those faithful to the Vigil. Instead, all he'd found was dust, death and misery. Oh, and an absolutely colossal Defiant warrior...

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