The sun is starting to set, a soft copper glow is reflecting off the surrounding ridges. The echoing sound of battle resounds through this valley. Electric blue sparks fizzle in the air as the Geomancer Terron spends his remaining power in exhaustion.

Greymoore, a Stone Golem, is closing in for the kill. He watches as Terron crumples to his knees, blank faced and emotionless. Greymoore charging in ferociously noticed a smirk that had come to Terron’s face, followed by soft muttered words, “Lamb Stew”.

Greymoore had no care as to why Terron breathed these last words. But, he instantly stopped mid stride, landing a few feet from Terron, almost tripping forward over his hulking feet. He turned around and began to sprint as fast as he could, which considering what was at stake, was faster than the Olympic Golem’s.

Greymoore was on his way home and had to get there as quickly as possible. Because, he himself had a pot of lamb stew on the stove and could not bear leaving it there to burn.