Late at night, a hazy darkness spread over the land, shrouding Nagrand's lush green grasslands.
Cold stars hung in the heavens, scattered like spots of light across a game board.
The valley was bleak and chilly at night, like an uninhabited desert. A powerfully built figure lay on his side on the ground, with a fire burning not far away. Countless stars dotted the sky, casting down their gentle light. Cool breezes swept through, forming a sharp contrast with the waves of heat radiating from the fire.
Rex rolled over and went back to sleep facing the other way. His movement produced a dry crunch as the hay beneath him was compressed. A pile of straw and a soft wild bearskin had been laid under him to keep out the bone-deep chill of the ground.
Flowers carpeted the ground, and the trees grew thick and lush. The delicate fragrance of flowers mingled with the fresh scent of grass and trees in the air, weaving together into an intoxicating blend.
Suddenly, a bird's cry pierced the silence of the valley. Countless flocks flew in from the far horizon, thousands of jackdaws streaming past without end.
A white line appeared on the distant horizon, and the land gradually began to brighten.
Rex rose and stretched his limbs, stiff from lying still for so long. Then he pushed aside the straw, pulled out the bearskin blanket beneath it, and put it into his Spatial Ring. Picking up the flask beside him, he drank in great gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing.
When Rex looked up, he saw a deep trench before him, with a palisade beyond it. The fence had been made from sharpened logs, their keen points facing outward. Traces of blood stained them, already dried, though a faint bloody smell still lingered.