The Werewolf Prisoner's Tale

He was part of a pack of werewolves living in the desert near Kharsan, until maybe a decade ago a charismatic leader showed up – the leader of the Fraternity of the Empty Moon, now dead – and began preaching of a return of Jinnik’s curse, of power and freedom. His pack was quickly swayed, and joined the mission, which started with a way to get into Dunmar, to avoid Shakun’s maze. The leader knew of an old witch who could help, but he needed powerful magic to trade to her. Until a few years later, his brother came home with a silver scepter that seemed to be quite powerful, and the leader knew this was what he needed. So the plan was set in motion. The leader left with the scepter and came back a few months later, telling them events were in motion. This was maybe two years ago. Then, a few months back he came and told us that all was ready. There was one thing he had to do first, create a distraction, but soon it would be time. We moved towards the border, and found great hordes of refugees fleeing west. It was easy to join them, and disappear in the throngs of strangers in Tokra, where we set up a base and waited for the proper alignment of the planes. But there was a problem. Jinnik’s curse was too strong, we couldn’t penetrate the madness of the mists, but we needed to get in for the greatest effect of the ritual. We were stumped by this, until we heard a Dunmari man talking about a map, a clue and a secret. So we hunted him down. But the map was no good, or there was a secret we didn’t understand, but the hope was the Dunmari scholar we turned would solve it. That was a week ago.