Tydeus the Guard
Greetings, stranger. You stand now on lands sacred to my people, revered by the Horselords since the Age of Days. There was a time when the Lords of these lands looked unkindly on trespassers, but now any foes of Chaos are welcome. Where once there was peace and harmony, where once we protected the folk who dwelt here, now are three dark evils fester, and ruin reigns supreme. We are sore beset, and I fear our strength shall not hold much longer. Have you come to fight? Good! Stop chasing the wind, then, and take the fight to the foes!
Why do the Centaurs revere these lands?
More than a thousand winters have passed since the hordes of Chaos ravaged the world. Horrible as the demon scourge was, there were still many deluded souls who embraced the dark cause. Once these hills served as a rallying point for Chaos, a mighty fortress where the misguided bartered their souls for power. But we Centaurs destroyed it. Many cohorts, led by one of our greatest generals, routed the hordes of demon worshippers and razed that black fortress to the ground. Our elders recount the epic tale of that great battle to this day, and these plains bear the name of the Paragon who led us to victory, Through the centuries since we have fostered these lands, nourishing them and cleansing them of the taint of chaos. The homesteads and farms we guarded here survived even the Turning, but now there are new troubles, and all our works are threatened.
Tell me of these three evils.
In recent months three hosts of foes have converged upon these lands, as if guided by some dark will. I know only one of them well: seek my brethren if you would learn of the others. A mighty horde of Chaos has come to these lands, burning and killing at will. Foul Ettins, the two-headed Orcs born of Morloch's sorceries, form the bulk of the dark horde, though I hear there are trolls among them as well. All the settlements to the south have been burned by the abominations, and now they have built a fortress of their own. We Centaurs have fought them tirelessly since they came, but with each passing week they grow stronger as our numbers wane. Recent reports are even more troubling: our scouts have seen black-clad men among them, advising their chieftains. These strangers wear the vestments of the Dark Cult, that ancient Chaos coven we thought destroyed centuries ago. Are the minions of Chaos here to take their long-delayed vengeance, or do they seek some foul remnant of their ancient fortress? Whatever the case, we shall be sorely pressed to match them.
