Lark rode in through the massive gates of Roanne Valle, her horse slick with lather from the day-long ride across the top of the Wylden Plateau. While Lark had been on the move ever since the final battle of Blood Falls, her trek through the Wylden had been one of secrecy and stealth. The advance scouts of the Sect army were everywhere, burning Troll villages and Centaur glades wherever they found them. While the Elementals were defending their homeland, the Necropolis seemed to have a neverending flow of undead to rip and tear the Wylden defenders apart. While Lark wanted more than anything to turn around and ride back to her homeland, to fight alongside the other Faerie struggling to survive at Blood Falls, the package she carried was crucial to the survival of the League.

For 30 seconds, Lark rode under a tunnel of stone, watched carefully by the Elemental warriors stationed along its length. When she rode back into the sunlight, she had to blink furiously to let her eyes adjust. A scout had already called ahead, and the members of the Circle of Nine were already present in the courtyard, ready to receive her. The leader of the League, the Prophet-Priest Tremelen, stood imposingly at their center, and the other eight stood around him in a semicircle, each with their own looks of welcome – or scorn. While the four Wylden Elves seemed to warm at the sight of her, the massive mountain Troll, the forest Troll, and the Centaur seemed as cold as ice. Dressed in rainbow hues, one of the queens of the Faerie – the Sprites’ representative on the council – stood at the Centaur's side. The look of wrath and vengeance displayed on her face – likely from the news that her homeland was under fiery assault by the Sect – was enhanced by the blood-red crystal sword she held at the ready in her hands.