The euphoria of the mating ritual had barely settled over Obsidian Keep when the first deep, reverberating horn blasts echoed across the frozen chasm of the Blackwood River. *Hoooonnnnng! Hoooonnnnng!* The sound was guttural, discordant, and laced with dark sorcery. It was the dreaded Bone Horn of the Silverfangs, carved from the skull of a northern frost giant. The blast shook the pine needles from the trees, sending flocks of…
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