Barren, bleak, hopeless.
The Blighted Lands stretched to the horizon, a ruined landscape left by the Ratfolk.
They ate almost anything: animals, insects, trees, weeds, excrement, humans... Their droppings and shed fur were breeding grounds for Plague.
Coughs had often sounded aboard the ship these past few days. Crewman fell ill from time to time, but fortunately, the Druids could cure them.
After some ten days at sea, New Origin One returned to the vicinity of Obiris Strait. The cape where they had once fought the Ratfolk was gone. In its place lay a deep pit filled with Sea water.
Unexpectedly, a few Ratfolk still wandered Sandy Beach.
"Warriors! Follow me and take our revenge!"
Ulmit raised his Battle Axe with a roar. Once New Origin One neared shore, he leaped overboard and charged the Ratfolk alongside his less daring men, who climbed down ropes into the Shallows.
They were only a band of Ratfolk left behind. Many more like them were scattered along the Clan's path.
This bear of a Count would not find it easy to reclaim his homeland...
Watching the humans chase down squeaking, scurrying Ratfolk like Barbarians, Francois had the Crewman lower a Small Boats loaded with Heavy Destriers.
The Portal opened, and the busy Crewman began moving supplies.
Some Druids took the form of birds and flew inland in different directions.
The food and tools would last them through autumn and into next year, while the Cement was enough to rebuild a Castle or surround a town with a low wall.
Then, in autumn, New Origin One or another Sailing Ship would bring more grain. Making Ratfolk understand that "those green Wheat Fields will yield heavy ears of grain" was harder than teaching them the Common Tongue. And with the land polluted by them, nothing