Watchfulness

Situated between a wild and dangerous Najara, an empire of Yuan-Ti and lizardfolks, and Amn whose intention are ever doubtful at best, Elturgard stand proud and strong. With its second sun forever burning bright above the capital, Elturgard is led by the clergy of Torm and the country is a beacon of hope and righteousness. Ever watchful, never flinching.

Holy Champion Cerbero was watching Northwest that morning. Again. What he read in the sky was only bad omen, just like the day before. A test of their faith; not just the city over which he watched, Triel, but of all that which Torm protects. The Realms. Faerun.

He put his hand on his squire's shoulder, a young boy of 10, but brave.

" Prepare my horse, and weapons. Tell the master-at-arms that I want 200 champions ready to march. I want Sir Seristan leading them. We'll march at noon, after the prayers and blessings ".

The boy bowed and left with his orders.

Cullen Cerbero  was done watching the darkness creeping far in the horizon from the top of his tower. He made a sharp croaking sound, and a raven soon landed next to him. He tied a message to it and sent him toward Elturel.

He would not let this evil creep slowly across the lands and sit idly.