ROLLENSPIEL

A light breeze blows through the jungle, scented with the fragrance of the Jayazengs plant. Appearing through the brush is a sinister-looking, arrogant Zoraï, fouling the air with his putrid, acrid odor. The smell is so disturbing that the torbak's hunt is interrupted and the igaras' flight become even more erratic.

Nearby, a tribal leader sniffs the breeze and instinctively moves his hand toward his sword. "Gather a hunting party*, any who are willing. There is something rotten here," he orders his second.

* Wednesday, 9 March 00:00 GMT Zora Stables