The Chalice of the Hunt

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The dancing, the rhythm of the drums, and the low chanting of the Shaman grips the camp with the unmistakable sense that something momentous is about to happen. Some of the older warriors sing along. Some just stare into the fire. The younger ones grip their weapons and nervously tap their feet. The Shaman draws a blade across his palm, dripping fresh blood into the mysterious golden chalice before holding it aloft and reciting a mystical incantation in an unfamiliar language.

As the cup is passed around the fire, the assembled tribe members each take a deep drink of the mysterious concoction. You follow suit as it is passed to you. The drink tastes terrible – a dark, gritty blend of copper and earth. But as you choke it down, the world almost instantly seems more vibrant. More alive. Every sense feels heightened and more acute. The forest suddenly seems as a living organism… a thing of flesh and blood. As your senses search out into the wilderness, your nostrils suddenly pick up the scent of the creature that this tribe has been brought here to face – and you instinctively know what you must do.

The assembled warriors grip their spears and bows, solemnly rise, and move towards their horses.

The hunt has begun.