Recent trouble has been stewing, and it all started with a Bretonnian farmer, who was out looking for lost cattle.

He picked up what appeared to be a faint cattle trail, leading him far out into unfamiliar hills. As he travelled, the trail grew wider and more trafficked. The road weaved through a series of hills, with many off-shoot routes winding around or over the various sparsely wooded mounds. Finally, the road came through a ravine between two hills and then suddenly dropped into a small valley. And there it was!

The farmer was astonished to discover an ogre prison camp and slave market, all within the borders of Bastonne. It looked like it had been here for a few years, but unknown. Or, was it unknown? How could it operate without customers? It had to been known the underworld…

He saw that among the slaves were many humans and elves. There were also some dwarfs and a few orcs. Those who attended the market looked like evil men, wizards and other elves.

The farmer reported the discovery to the nobles, and soon, delegations between Bretonnians and Wood Elves were conducted. The Wood Elves volunteered to send an army to destroy the camp and rescue their kin. But, the Bretonnians were adamant that they would handle this rot themselves. It would be dishonorable to allow an Elf army to enter their borders and defeat a foe on their lands.

The Wood Elves were only partially satisfied. While they agreed to not send an army to the prison camp, they devised other plans they did not share with Bretonnia. They sent scouts and larger patrols out to watch the roads and spy for travelers to the slave market–either those selling or buying. They never agreed with Bretonnia that they wouldn’t disrupt the flow of customers. And soon, the Wood Elves found some of those customer.

Dark Elves were in the land of Bretonnia! Seeking to purchase slaves from the ogres. No doubt, they brought a regiment of warriors to ensure smooth negotiations with the ogres. But, the Wood Elves vowed they would never reach the market, and were waiting for them around the next hill with a regiment of their own.