It is early evening. Mirshalak sits in front of a large, crackling fire, the light of which reflects from her brilliant blue eyes, and deep green complexion. With one hand she slowly sips a cup of gunpowder green tea, and her other hand rests on the back of Brad, her boar and beloved fighting companion. She has a paradoxical mixture of Orcish ferocity, and equally intense compassion. A tent is behind her, and her longbow is by her side.

Lok'tar, my friend. What news do you bring me?