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"Here on the mainland, we rely on a small but dedicated band of trappers - who live in the northern wastes of Elartris - for our supplies of meat, due to the nature of supply it was never a regular trade but it sufficed for our needs. For the last three months we have received no meat whatsoever, I try to supply some substitute with the aid of my deity but it is poor substitute for true meat and nowhere near enough for our needs”.


Tales gathered from travelers and wayfarers suggest that the trapper community has been attacked by a large band of fur clad goblins of immense might and that there were no known survivors. One of the travelers handed over a worn scrap of parchment he had found at one of the desecrated villages”.


The parchment had upon it, in old and fading ink, in an ancient elven dialect, the words:”


Beware the bane found in deep,

in hell-hole cold, in arctic stronghold,

in winged peak stark, it's life in dark,

evil to spread, never to tread,

lay open the hearts of men, evil to sow in deep then,

all to trap, and soon mayhap,

walls will not contain, Thuradra's bane.....

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