| Background | 'Not that I've reason to explain myself, you worthless wretch, but I'm sending you into dangerous climes that I fear you will not return from, and I'd rather cover myself first.
'Within this wood are trees that walk. Terrible things that need death more than the little folk east of here...only the tree things aren't good eating. Now listen well, cur.
'I've need of the heartwood from these trees for the coven of witches in Angmar. I'll earn favour from them, and you in turn will earn favour from the Krahjarn. This makes things right all around, and if you do well enough, I will look to you in the future. What do you say?' |
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