Quetzonocotl surveyed the miserable domain of the Brimstein Heartlands with disdain. The petty squabbles of the warm-blooded inhabitants interested him not. The more they killed each other the better their cold ones would find carrion to feast on. The plan required him to find a new temple for reasons he knew not. He did not question the directions from the old ones. His cold unblinking eye settled on the unwelcoming area the warms knew as Olrogs Grave. He stirred Qor-Shar into action resulting in a blood curdling roar of rage from the giant reptile. He would need to feed soon. The tribe followed without demur. Unquestioning. Unfeeling. Inscrutably focused on seeing their plan through to the end.
There was an odd one amongst their number, Seraphorc. A mercenary Orruk. Originally captured by the Jaws of Molok tribe when they assimilated the rest of his settlement into the grand plan. He survived captivity due to his iron constitution and won his freedom when he defeated a Saurus Warrior in single combat. Working his way up from a job cleaning out the Cold Ones nests to build a rapport with the beasts. Well as much rapport as is possible with an unreeling unthinking cold-blooded reptile. He saw his chance one day when there was an empty saddle for a mission when the Knight who should have been there was granted leave for breeding. He survived the mission and won grudging respect from the other knights with his natural ability on a Cold one. Never keen to involve warm bloods in the great plan though he was never fully assimilated and remained an enigma.
No one really knows where Seraphorcs true loyalties lie.
