Ak'vix'tur'aveen had just been finishing off a solid meal of dire elk, when the beacon caught his notice. Like a faint ripple in the weave of magic present in all things that he'd felt since he first became aware in his egg, months before his birth, this ping fascinated him.

Ak'vix'tur'aveen was aware of most of the goings on in his domain, the section of the forest he called home, and had for twenty years. The forest elves and their infernal six-armed spear throwers that were the only thing that could threaten him were far away to the northwest, so he could rule his section of this great forest with...