Seven men and women shiver in the cold rain. Someone coughs imaptiently, a man shuffles back and forth on cold feet. Their breath forms steam in the air, and yet still the cloaked girl does not speak.
Then; "My name is not important. You may call me Little Bear." She turns around, but her face stays in the shadows of her fluttering cloak. From underneath, eyes flash with a power that no child should wield.
She continues. "Regardless of my identity, I am not the important ones. You've been called here for a reason. You know of the recent civil wars in Mesopotamia?"
Of course they did. It plastered the news; The Fertile Crescent in a uproar, a new Caliph, it was said, was trying to claw his way to the throne. But his means were controversial, and had split the crescent right down the middle. It was a bloodbath.
"They will not be there long. When the time comes, I will watch and see what you do. And I will judge. And I will remember."
"Judge what?" Blurts one of the Elementals on the ridge. The man next to him shuffles nervously.
"Humanity." Says the girl, and like a blink she was gone, leaving the seven men and women on the hill alone, wondering what to do.
"If war is to break loose, then what do we do?" Asked one.
"Profit." Said a shadowed figure to his left.
"Fight it." Said another.
The rest stood silent, making their decisions.
YOU ARE ONE A HILL. YOU ARE IN THE UKRAINE. YOUR JOURNEY HAS BEGUN. PREPARE.