The sound of an exhausting breath broke the air. Collapsing to one knee the Watcher gripped the ashy surface of the Rethis plains. Writhing in pain from the demise of his red spotted familiar.
Surrounding him were huge beings made of stone. Their bodies were engraved with runewords from head to toe. They looked on as the Watcher began to stand up slowly.
"... Is the Wisebeard safe?" Spoke one of the rock beings, its voice was that of churning gravel.
Dusting of his black robes his frame was tall. Hidden behind the shadow of his hood, he replied,
"We can only hope. I had to sacrifice my familiar to save him…” Looking up at them he continued.
“There are two of Farah's scouts on the Thorned Ridge, and they’re searching for the Anvorbeard."
Another rock figure stepped forward. It's face was barren, only the blackness of eyes and a line for it's mouth.
"The Dwarf who Farah has chosen to make the Avennoth?"
"Yes. The Avennoth is premature in him, but the threat for you Rahkfolk grows." Answered the Watcher.
The Rahkfolk stood quiet as the reality set in. The tallest of the beings put its arm on the robed Watcher's shoulder as it spoke,
"Thank you Gantis... We must gather the bloodlines... "