The winds were silent as the soft cackle of surf brushed against the shore. Above stars twinkled and their light danced amongst the heavens in blissful ease, their performance unseen to those below. One of the largest islands in what would be the Fire Nation stood quiet on this pale moonlit night. Quiet except the pained screams of new life in a fire-lit hut further down shore. The lights did dance and shine brighter than ever at this new sound, and the moon beamed brighter than ever with the clouds casting down a single moonbeam onto the tiny hut.<br/><br/>The new avatar was born with only the stars as witness, as if generations of those passed gazed on and blessed the event.<br/><br/>Far away on the outskirts of the Earth Empire rested the group that once traveled with Ro Pan. His death fresh on their minds, they continued pushing forward with what was left of their spirits. Three days had passed since the terrible day, and without the force that binded the group together, could they forge new bonds from the remains of the old and continue on the spirit of their lost friend? An answer that only time will tell. Time that a group of ambitious bandits were not willing to give them. Skidding across the sands were nine makeshift rafts each with three men, blowing countless grains of sand in their wake as they raced towards the group. Thoughts of spoils written clearly in their dark smiles.