In the evergreen grasslands that stretched into the horizon, Damien observed the surrounding streak of looming mountains with intrigue. To think that amidst the cold northern fringes of the New World, there would be a hidden beauty veiled in its icy haze. It was poetic, to say the least.
"You look interested, Sir Damien." A stern voice sounded from ahead of him, stemming from the old, middle-aged man who stood as the Leader of the Wolfenguard. "I apologize for not introducing myself during our meeting. I am Beowulf of the Wolfenguard."
"The Wolfenguard protects the Howling Village situated within a veiled caldera amongst the desolate landscape of the northern fringes. When intruders enter our territory. We tend to be the ones handling them."
