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[@Cuccoruler]
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The Champions of Hope bickered on until the evening. The sun dipped below the horizon and carried the orange sky with it. Soon, darkness fell over the camp, and still the Champs bickered over strategy and who should come up with one. Their quarrel was interrupted by howls from the north. It was not the howl of wolves, for it was too deep and throaty. It was the howl of wargs, the fell creatures of the tundra and servants of the dark one.

Wargs only howled after bringing down prey.