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Tsavong Kraal found himself desolated on Wayland. A war... a battle... had taken place on some other world. Bounty Hunters had come. It was strange, the memories did not seem coherent or to weave together within the mind of Kraal. No. Bounty Hunters. They had taken him, tricked in the night after a bit too much to drink at the camp the Horde had been residing at throughout the siege of Yuuzhan'tar.
It had been a intra-faction war, other Domains laying waste to the Jungles of Yuuzhan'tar to strike at the Hrosha-Gul and the Horde.
"Where am I?" He wondered aloud, looking around.
It was a small town on the outskirts of Wayland. He was laying in the alleyway, all four wrists of the Myrshavong creature bonded by chains.
Tsavong stood, slinking into the shadows... letting the reality of his situation settle in.
It had been a intra-faction war, other Domains laying waste to the Jungles of Yuuzhan'tar to strike at the Hrosha-Gul and the Horde.
"Where am I?" He wondered aloud, looking around.
It was a small town on the outskirts of Wayland. He was laying in the alleyway, all four wrists of the Myrshavong creature bonded by chains.
Tsavong stood, slinking into the shadows... letting the reality of his situation settle in.