The campsite was quiet. The group had just finished packing their equipment and preparing for the early journey. Kogren sat near the edge of the clearing, facing out towards the direction they would head off in. He examined his blades as he finished sharpening them. Their edges shimmered in the moonlight. The moon...Kogren's deep black eyes turned skyward, glancing ever so intensely at the moon. He wondered when it would be that the moon would look down on Crom, and see peace again. A sigh escaped his lips as he lowered his head back to his blades. Kogren has already killed a large number of Nundar with them. The other village elders always praised him for it, claiming he would have "done his father proud". Kogren knew his father was already proud of him and that this act of justice would make him even prouder if he were around for it. But now was not the time. Kogren and these brave few others had a great task at hand and he had to be in the right mind set for it.<br/><br/>Kogren stood up off the downed tree trunk, sheathing his large hooked blades at his sides. His massive paw reached down and grabbed his chest plate and shoulder pauldrin then began heading back to the campfire with the others. His massive arms and chest revealed intense scars from his previous encounters with the Nundar, and he was certain he would bring home some more.<br/><br/>"So then...are we all ready for this?"