Tohl stared at the grinning visage of Borran Kiosk standing before him. The battlefield on which they stoodnear Morningstar Hollows, a small village northwest of Alaghônwas one Tohl had seen many times, but never during the time of the epic battle between forces of the living and hordes of undead. During his career as a priest of Eldath in Alaghôn, he’d made the pilgrimage to the battlefield several times. Acquainting the acolytes with Alaghôn’s history in regards to Borran Kiosk had been part of his responsibilities for decades. Mist swirled up from the battlefield spattered bright with the blood of men, elves, and even a few dwarves. Men and elves had lived in Turmish then, as well as other cities along the Vilhon Reach. The dwarves had traveled down out of Irongfang, their city in the Alaoreum Mountains, when they’d heard about the menace Borran Kiosk and his undead minions had presented. Brother Tohl knew it was a dream as he surveyed the carnagehe’d had similar nightmares over the years.
