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The warlock had been running her dread-steed hard through the Ridge Mountains. The letter she carried was of the utmost importance, well at least that is what she had been told. Cara was nothing more than a messenger today she thought to herself as she made her way ever closer to Stormbreeze. All she knew for sure was that in the dying rouge’s last moments he that gave it to her saying it had to get to the king and fast or all our plans would be for not.

She kept looking over her shoulder as she raced through the hills and valleys of Ridge Mountains. She feared whoever killed the rouge couldn’t be far behind. Cara stopped for the evening in a quiet alcove near a stream. The mountains seemed so peaceful right now. But she could clearly remember fighting the Kich King’s minions here not to long ago. A lot of good warlocks had lost their lives that day and not to mention the druids. In the end they were victorious but the cost had been high. The blood spilled that day would not be soon forgotten be her or anyone else.

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