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As the days of Autumn pass in the land of Gobaith, a lot has changed. During most of the past year there was strife. Hardship came to all the towns, even the nearly abandoned forests of the elves of Vanima.

The autumn is delicate this year, for it brings good temperatures and only moderate rainfall. Not even the normal storms batter the land.

And it is in these autumn days that a traveller is often seen in the tavern, telling whomever buys him a drink about the events of the past year, or perhaps even the past eras. Perhaps it's bollocks, perhaps it's godsend, but all travellers, locals and regulars at the tavern alike must agree; At least it's entertainment.

As the Autumn closes in on the land around, the strife of the land being evident in the energies flowing off to the mainland, a lone figure is seen sailing upon a small ship, against the wind, toward Gobiath. As the boat bumps the shore, the tall figure of the wizened old elf Salhari Whitewalker steps onto the shore, to look upon Gobiath one more time

It's time i go find those whom I seek...

He thinks to himself as he heads off towards Trollsbane, not knowing the shock that was to come.