[b]At the western foot of The Highest Mountains of Pyra[/b]

The flames of the camp fire glow in the eyes of a bulky, golden eyed man whom devours his half cooked rabbit meat in large chunks, using three highly ornate and precise brass lined picks fashioned onto his fingers as utensils.  Clothed in furs and thick silk from the springworms of the oasis city Utan Brae with a flat cap hat marked with various runic symbols denoting his heritage like the cohorts around him. All around the fire a several other men huddle around, with their horses roped around a staked nearby.  It is a cold night as usual, but something was off about this night in particular.  For the merchants who usually accompany their Ranuun masters seemed particularly distrubed and not by anything the Ranuun have done today.  It was of a disturbance that made Clisan, the second oldest brother of the grand soverign Insan compelled to ask one of his subordinates to ask the filthy merchant what he saw while in the milk filled kingdom Gattania.

The merchant simply repeated again and again 'the color, it is all color'.

The subordinate of Clisan, one of many, in response to this nonsense unsheathed out his curved blade and held it to the merchant's neck and with blood lined eyes that pierced the mechant's soul says 'we asked what you saw, color is everywhere- do not waste the time of a relative of the supreme Ranuun!  This slight if you continue it will have your neck slit.'

But the merchant continued it anyways and so his neck was slit with the supervision Clisan who waved his arm up approvingly of the glorious killing of the beast man while sitting atop of the largest, skin lined chair around the campfire.  The Ranuun with the brass picks looks on with delight as Clisan says to one of the workers in the colder parts of the camp 'now make this beast's body into something of value'.

Clisan than began to worry about the oncoming invasions of the Roturran lands to the South.  The lords of Gattania may well get in the way of the next glorious conquest as they had threatened with the conquest of the kingdom of Ignatia which had a royal tie to Gattania.  But the bigger concern to Clisan was the aging supreme soverign whose death very easily may cause Linsan to steal away Clisan's ascension to being the next supreme soverign.  Fellow kin in the natural order of things can prove more dangerous than any foreign savage after all.

And thus Clisan in that moment of paranoia, perhaps spurred by a bloodlust from killing the merchant asked one of his loyal Ranuun, a scarred hairy man with a prechant for hatches to 'rid the world of Linsan in silence'

Clisan than sat on his hide filled seat, lined in spears and from his basalt plate ate raw rabbit meat with his bloodied hands like the true soverign he shall be.  The Ranuun who gained a liking to the picks, derisively nicknamed the 'pick man' by his own kin found discomfrot in Clisan's lack of sanitation, but who is he to question his higher ups when the pick man cowardly uses primitive tools to eat?