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this is the southern region

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In the vast desert of Hem El-Kuthra, the creature known as Lorsch knelt in the coarse sands. The God of the Sands, Lorsch's master, usually gave him a sign of some sort as a way of giving orders. Lorsch's god wasn't consistent in his messages. One day could be a sandstorm that would face the direction he wanted someone to go, another day could be a simple trail of raised sand. Today, the god seemed to be conflicted on how to send the message though, as Lorsch had been kneeling much longer than usual and was getting impatient.

His innate gnoll instincts were telling him to dash off and run until prey was in sight, though these days his instincts had less influence on him than his earlier years. Still, the thought of walking about was very compelling after his second hour of kneeling had passed. What was taking the god so long? Surely omnipotence also meant he had basic timekeeping skills.

As if to spite Lorsch's doubtful mind, the god's message finally arrived. An image formed in Lorsch's mind - the ocean. It wasn't a sight Lorsch was familiar with but he had a basic understanding of it from travelling merchants. He could see a sprawling city on the ocean's horizon; it's docks filled to the brim with ships of all sizes. Over the city, a cloud of ebony appeared, shrouding the city in darkness. Slowly but surely, the cloud crept across the sky towards Hem El-Kuthra, turning the sands to ash in its wake.

Lorsch awoke from his vision with a clear purpose. He stood, brushing the sand from his fur and grabbed his staff. Under his breath, he whispered an incantation and the sand engulfed his form. The sandy sarcophagus distorted and convulsed until a hawk the colour of the sun burst from it's top, taking flight to the most famed naval kingdom in the known world - Hargaen.
On his flight, Lorsch landed in Sekram to board a ship to Hargaen. Hawks weren't accustomed to flights overseas, and neither was he.

He flew to the docks and landed on a rope railing near a port, close to a seagull. His feral speak was a bit rusty as he barely encountered other creatures in the barren desert, but hopefully, he knew enough to convey a message.

"Excuse me, gull," said Lorsch, grateful he remembered basic greetings.

"What do you want, hawk?" the hawk replied impatiently, "I'm busy preparing for the migration."

"Oh, right.... I just need a moment of your time to ask a favour?"

"Didn't you hear me? I'm leaving for the north, what favour could I possibly do?"

"I need a message delivered to the druid of the forest up north: Stay alert, there is something foul coming in the near future and I fear the druids will be caught up in the chaos."

The gull thought a moment, making Lorsch worry that his message hadn't been properly received. Then with a bird's equivalent of a sigh, the gull answered. "Fine... it's not like I have anything better to do in the blasted cold. Now buzz off, I still need to prepare."

With a thank you and a sigh of relief, Lorsch flew off. He wasn't a social person with man or beast and was thankful that encounter went smoothly. Now, he could focus on the task at hand - his journey. He landed on the crow's nest of a merchant ship to Hargaen; its crew seemed to be oblivious to his presence. Good. He didn't need the attention on such a long voyage, now he could relax for a few days until they reached port.
Lynken awakened in his cave he calls a home under the sand, he has frozen all of it including the bandits who once lived there. Lynken was about to make food but noticed he had no herbs. he screamed at the annoyance of him having to travel 500 miles to a land where the place was the only place herbs he needed existed.but he made do and chose to travel north to get his herbs. He packed up and called windsnapper over to him "Windsnapper! Come over here! We have to get some herbs!" He yelled as windsnapper flew over there and made trilling sounds. And he was off out onto the desert horizon riding a dragon.

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