Rhivana, the Ranger
Greetings to you, stranger. You've come form the hamlets have you? Aye, I see it in your eyes. Beware, for these woods teem with foes! They may not seem like much, but the Imps of these woods can be deadly in numbers. Have you seen Grobolds before? Well, soon you shall see your fill of them, I assure you.
Tell me more of Grobolds.
The Sages say that Grobolds were once Humans, the poor fools who followed Malog the War God into the Pits of Chaos for the final battle of the War of the Scourge. Malog betrayed the All-Father, and in punishment he and his legions were imprisoned beyond the walls of the world. Centuries after the traitors returned, the taint of Chaos had changed them forever. The Humans under Malog's banner had shrunk into tiny imps, foul-smelling, ill-tempered things that most call Grobolds.
That is the legend, anyway. We Rangers have long hunted them, and all we know for certain is that Grobolds are weak, stupid, and spiteful. They prey upon anything, even themselves, ravaging field, copse, and forest in their insatiable hunger. Once farms covered all these lands, but now they have all been ruined and the land befouled. This swarm of Grobolds came here years ago, and the Lords of the Safeholds have never been able to drive them out, no matter how many swords they send. Some great king of theirs has dug a hole to live in at the eastern edge of these woods, and surrounded himself with many followers. They've ravaged crops and raided these lands for far too long! Smite them with sword and spell, and avenge all the hurts they've dealt Braialla!
