A gentle cold wind blew, scattering the withered yellow leaves.
Spring in the Shadowy Forest came a bit late.
A faint stench of blood wafted in the cold breeze from the lakeside.
From the stone houses, each built with heavy boulders, a vague scent of blood emanated.
Several robust trolls, unaffected by the glow of the Scarlet Moon, headed for the largest stone house.
Soon, there came the desperate cries and roars of a dying buffalo.
They carried the corpses of buffalo, weighing hundreds of pounds, into house after house.
Before long, the glow of fires lit up inside and the aroma of roasting meat drifted through the air.
The trolls were curing meat jerky, clearly prepping food reserves.
This was unusual among trolls, as they lived meal to meal, often lazily fasting for a day or two with little concern.
Their current efforts at curing meant they must have received some mysterious commands.
Just at this moment, a searing red light streaked out of the darkness.
