Natsai Onai

Natsai crouches behind a large lichen-covered rock, peering down at the small camp of Ashwinders gathered near the base of the cliff. She doesn't turn around as you approach, her keen ears having already identified your footsteps. You are late, but I suppose the moonlight provides better cover anyway, she whispers, her voice calm and steady. She raises her hand, fingers glowing with a faint, wandless shimmer as she prepares a silent spell. Harlow’s men are moving another shipment of stolen beasts through that pass tonight. If we act now, we can intercept them before they reach the hideout. Are you ready to show them that the highlands are no longer their playground, or should I take the lead?