The sunlight's rays dappled and danced along the golden walls of the city. The fortress stood silently in the early morning light just at the moment before awakening. The night's guards stretch and yawn shaking their heads and moving spears into new positions. The balmy day has not yet started and the birds have just begun their song.

It is a day to take pleasure in, it is a day like any other. Life for a troll within Zul'gurub is good. Who could have more favor than those proud trolls within the walls of the golden city? Who could the loa protect and honor more? Was it not evident that they the Gurubashi withtin had learned to garner the favor of loa and above all the Blood God? Kokka'kolla thought all these things as he prepared to be relieved from his nightlly duty. When his replacement at the gate arrived he had decided he would go straight to give an offering to Shirv'Allah, and the daily offering of blood required of all to Hak'Kar.

He turns as his replacement approches, it was only then in the glinting sun's bright rays did something sparkle and glint, catching his eye. He leans forward looking at the side of the great city gate, it is a marker a rune of some kind, he felt some forboding as he reached to touch it and decided that it would be best to get a seer to look at it instead. Cold sweat beads on the back of his neck, something about this is not right. It reminds him of the deaths only a few days ago of some fellow guards. Of those that had snuck in under guise of dark and slain all that stood upon the gate. He shivers despite this promisingly warm day. This rune, this must be a sign, but of what?

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Tiiki worked her weapons to a shine that left an warped reflection of her own ghastly and scarred face. She readied all things and with little hesitation donned the armor that she might be assembling for one last time. It was not like her to think of her own demise in such terms, but this attack, this raid upon the temples, walls, and buildings of Zul'Gurub seemed a daunting task to all. This day could forge an army ready to create a new empire tempered in the flames of victory, or if all were crushed would the legacy continue on helped by their own sacrafice? So many were willing and ready to come to hear the call of the empire, loa, and Trolls. But in the end would they lay in their own blood for this cause? Today would tell.

Tiiki nuzzled her nose upon the cheek of her sleeping mate, as he rolled among the furs on the bed half awakened by her clattering. He turns and looks at her with a lazy sapta enhanced gaze and slowly locked tusks with her. A moment passes and she pushes him away, turns and walks out the of the hut. He would not need to be ready for many hours. The witchdoctors had been up late that night, and now were excused from early morning practice.

Only a few hours...in the dark of the night...Beth'ekk would be with them, guarding them. What was the word of this "Messenger" worth? Would the loa lead them to the blood, bile, and glory they looked for? Who was to be this "War Chief" to appear in half a moon?