Twisted by cursed magic, perfected by Anassa's sorceries in the ages leading up to the Great War. The beastmen are a vermin that should have never existed. Not a natural race of Arda but a construct, the most they can be likened to a plague of our making. A disease that has spiralled and evolved out of control in response to our medicines.
It will be a day of celebration when they are finally made extinct.
- Excerpt from the secrets texts in the White Pantheon's closed library. Written by Goddess Maisara, Of Order: 'Documenting the Inhabitants of Arda'.
Logar snarled as his eyes once again readjusted to the darkness of night. Fer had entered in an hour ago, he had laid still behind a piece of hard-wood pulled out the ground by the darkfurs since then. The two packs causing chaos had pulled back, they were only there to buy time anyway. Fer had assumed a loss-ratio of sixty percent for them two, Logar had put it as high as eighty. Traius had said none of them would return.
