Finally, a foe worthy of my time and effort. After endless monkeys, my Elysian Bronze gets to drink the blood for which it was forged. The hated enemies of the Azlanti. They’re abominable form slinking back towards the daylight that the gods saw fit to deny them all those centuries ago. I will find them, bring them into the darkness and bind them. Or something like that. That actually reminds me of the message inscribed on a cheap ring I once owned. I wonder where I left it. Oh well, I’m sure it isn’t important now.
We march toward the spear at the center of the island. It’s atop a large building of some sort. Seems important. The serpentfolk slither in the shadows but I cajole my companions to action. This is after all, the only reason for us to be here. Righteous Anger will win the day; the gods demand it. I force my comrades ever forward. They whine of the comforts at camp. I am annoyed, but also sympathetic to the weakness of their flesh. I hope to accelerate the cleansing of this place. I patrol the perimeter of the great spear and call for all challengers. A few interested parties approach, but they are easily cut down. Must be a probe sent my the enemy leaders. I hope now they realize the trouble I intend to bring to them. When dawn breaks, I hope it reveals a sea of serpentfolk massing all around. How I wish the Commander could see me now.