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Description
This OC has taken me many years, yes years, to get an image of I was happy with. I knew exactly what he looked like in my head, but just couldn't get on paper what I saw in my head. To be completely honest, this still isn't a perfect representation but it is close enough that I feel comfortable sharing it.
Arkron Kah is a character I created for my Dragonlance campaign several years ago, but until recently I never played him in a pen and paper session. However he really came alive when I played him via Neverwinter Nights on an online server, role playing alongside some really cool and creative people. Hey Elara and Sara!
He is a race known as "Nzunta", which is an offshoot of the original High Ogres. There were two main offshoots of the High Ogres that didn't degenerate into what is known as the Fallen Ogres. The Irda is the other offshoot race. Irda are generally benevolent and the Nzunta are generally... not. As Nzunta go Arkron is a sweetheart though. For the interested I have uploaded an image of how Arkron appeared in the NWN game here, ( [link] ) for comparison. Comments are welcome and appreciated.

EDIT: Added a short story about Arkron's origins...

Her eyes were like the sunrise, her skin the blue of the darkening sky, and her hair as black as midnight, just like his. Arkron knew he would never see beauty like hers again. Even by the standards of his race, the Nzunta, Aloreh was exceptional. His own skin was a deep green, and his eyes a lighter green with flecks of silver. Had any of the lesser races set eyes upon either of them they would have been awed by their grace and beauty. Such beauty has it's price however. Had either Aloreh or Arkron been less than perfect specimens of the Nzunta race, they would have been sacrificed to their dark goddess, Takhisis. Something as simple as being born with the silver hair of their hated cousins the Irda would see them suffer that fate.
 It troubled Arkron to think of such a thing happening to Aloreh however, especially since he was on his way to meet her. Besides, he knew the elders had their reasons. Strict racial purity had to be maintained lest their beautiful race degenerate into the hideous fallen ogres so many of their kin had succumbed to over the centuries. Offering the babes who did not meet their stringent requirements to Takhisis was simply a wise precaution in the elder’s minds. Still, he thought Aloreh would be just as beautiful with any color of hair, even the silver of their hated cousins.
 Arkron wasn’t sure why the Irda were so hated, having never met one. From what he had been told they were much alike, at least in appearance. Many tales were told of them around the campfires, but most focused on how they, the Nzunta, would someday destroy the last of the Irda and once again become the favored race of Takhisis. The Irda had turned from their goddess eons ago, choosing her weakling brother of a god Paladine as their own. An unwise choice, it seemed to Arkron. Takhisis didn’t take rejection very well, for soon after the Irda's betrayal the fallen ogres began being born to both Irda and Nzunta alike. The Nzunta blamed the Irda for their shared curse, and rightly so. Arkron idly wondered what the Irda did with their fallen.

For himself Arkron didn’t care if the day never came to pass that the Nzunta were once again in Takhisis’ favor. He liked his life on his island home, and he especially liked spending time with Aloreh. He saw her now, as he approached their meeting place, a large stone jutting out of the jungle soil. Arkron thought it might be the remnants of some building or another. The jungle was littered with ruins from the Nzunta’s grander days.
 Aloreh saw him approaching and came running to meet him. She was smiling as she always did when she saw him, and waving. He was touched by her obvious pleasure in seeing him. Arkron thought wryly that his own pleasure upon seeing her was just as great. He wondered if Aloreh could see that in him as he could her. She crashed into him with enough force to knock him back a step and wrapped her arms around him in embrace. Arkron returned the embrace and laughed as he took a step back to keep from falling. It was their usual greeting.
 Aloreh was tall, almost seven feet, though still not as tall as him. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back awaiting her kiss. Arkron took a moment to admire her innocent face before bestowing said kiss as she knew he would. One kiss and one embrace turned into many, and soon they lay together. Their bodies seemed to become one, and all conscious thought vanished as they simply reacted to one another’s needs. Afterwards Arkron mused that this time was the best it had ever been, he always felt that way afterwards.
 As they lay there in each other’s arms they talked of their love for each other. Aloreh believed it had to be the Valin they were experiencing, because her feelings were so strong. Arkron said that it might just be, but he secretly didn’t believe it. As far as he knew the Valin was just a romantic fairy tale to be told around the campfire late at night, usually in the hopes of gaining a bed partner. He’d used it for just such a thing a few times himself, before he came to know Aloreh. Besides the Valin, if it did exist, was supposed to make the desire to mate so strong it could not be denied, even if the one who you were drawn to you hated and despised. The feelings he shared with Aloreh came from getting to know one another, and recognizing in each other their missing half. The Valin made them no more than beasts unable to deny the need to rut.
 Eventually talk turned to their reason for having to meet out here in the jungle, instead of in his home like a normal Nzunta couple. Makra. Arkron scowled at the thought of the village shaman. Makra had developed an interest in Aloreh some months back, and had been pursuing her ever since. As the village shaman Makra held a position of power that made him a dangerous man to deny. His advances were becoming increasingly blatant as well. Several times he wanted to confront Makra but Aloreh prevented him, afraid Makra might do something to harm Arkron. Arkron feared for Aloreh’s safety as well. Makra was used to getting his way.
 Eventually it came time to return to their village, he to his dwelling and her to her own. They lingered a few moments more in each other’s arms before saying their farewells. Aloreh left first, as it wouldn’t do for them to return to the village together. Someone might see. Arkron watched her go until she was lost to the darkness, then slowly made his way back towards his home. Unknown to the couple, from the shadows of the nearby jungle growth, Makra watched with narrowed eyes.

Late that night Arkron's happy dreams of Aloreh were interrupted by the sounds of drums and chanting. As he lay there he slowly realized the chanting was for a ritual sacrifice to Takhisis. This puzzled him, because he knew there were no Nzunta women due to give birth. Perhaps another sailor had washed up on their shores, half drowned. As Arkron slipped on his leathers, he wondered why he was not told of the sacrifice, if indeed that was what was happening. Then realization hit him like the fiery mountain that had destroyed Istar so long ago. With a cold dread creeping through his chest Arkron ran out of his dwelling and towards the center of the village as fast as he could.
 As he reached the village center he saw the scene before him just as he feared he would. The entire tribe was dancing in a circle around the sacrificial altar, caught up in the ceremony. On the altar lay Aloreh, held in place with hemp ropes. Standing above her, looking directly at Arkron was Makra with his ceremonial dagger raised overhead. The curved blade glowed with an unholy light. With a strangled cry Arkron raced towards the altar. Suddenly he felt his limbs grow stiff and his mad dash towards Aloreh slowed, and then came to a stop. Arkron only then noticed the two sorcerers standing to either side of Makra, malicious grins on their faces.
 Aloreh heard him cry out and sought him out in the crowd. When she saw him she cried out his name and reached out to him imploringly. As her eyes fell upon him Makra plunged the dagger into her chest. A deft twist and he removed the dagger and put his hand in place of it. Arkron could only watch helplessly as Makra drew Aloreh’s still beating heart from her chest. He could only stare in mute horror as he watched the sun set in Aloreh’s beautiful golden eyes.
 Still held in place by the sorcerer’s enchantment, Arkron watched as Makra casually tossed the now still heart into the flames of the village fire. He sauntered over to Akron then, a sadistic smile upon his face. As Makra reached him, he leaned in close and whispered to Arkron, “No one may deny me foolish pup. You would do well to remember that. But then, I suspect tonight is one night you will never forget.” Gesturing to the sorcerers Makra told them to release Arkron. “Aloreh had been found... lacking in Takhisis’ eyes Arkron. Though it saddens us all she had to be sent into Her embrace. I know you do not question the will of Takhisis, correct pup?” With a low chuckle only loud enough for Arkron to hear Makra wandered away to his abode.
 As Makra walked away the sorcerers released Arkron. He tensed, about to spring on Makra, but knew the sorcerers would stop him before he made his second step. His shoulders slumped and Arkron forced himself to bury the rage and grief he felt into a deep, dark hole inside of him. With a murmured “all glory to Takhisis” he stalked off to his dwelling. He knew what he had to do.
 Arkron waited for the villagers to go to sleep. Many were energized by the sacrifice and it took a long time for all to return to their beds. He realized bitterly that he too would have been excited by the spectacle, had it been some half drowned sailor, or some infant born with a sixth toe or silver hair up there on the altar. Finally the village grew quiet. Arkron gathered up his meager possessions, strapped on his swords and crept quietly from his abode.
 As he suspected Makra had no guard on his door, and the sounds of soft, steady breathing emanated from within. Arkron knew that Makra didn’t think he would exact his vengeance upon him. He had been shaman a long time, and all accepted his judgment without question. Arkron smiled grimly at the thought and slipped into Makra’s tent.
 He stood over Makra a few moments, watching him sleep as though he had not ended Arkron's world mere hours ago. Arkron knew he himself would never sleep well again. Refusing to let the bastard sleep through his own death, Arkron got himself into position behind Makra’s bed, standing over his head. Softly, he uttered Makra’s name. Makra didn’t seem to hear at first, but then a subtle change to his breathing and a slight crease in Makra’s forehead told Arkron that he was awake. Akron watched with bitter amusement as Makra’s hand slowly crept towards the knife lying at the side of his bed.
 Just before he reached the blade, Arkron grabbed him by his chin and pulled it towards him, leaving his arched neck exposed. With his other hand Arkron slid the blade of his shortsword across Makra’s neck. Makra’s eyes snapped open and he coughed blood as he stared into Arkron’s own merciless gaze. “Give your bitch queen my regards when you see her Makra, may you both rot in the Abyss for all time!” Then he spit into Makra’s face, and watched the life fade from his eyes, just as he had done with Aloreh mere hours ago.
 Stepping out of Makra’s tent he surveyed the village. So many sleeping peacefully, who had watched with joy as Aloreh had her life taken from her. He wanted to creep into their tents and kill them all. Arkron knew he’d be caught if he tried however. He also knew that when they found Makra’s body they’d immediately suspect him. Even if they didn’t there were magics to learn the truth. It made no difference to Arkron. He didn’t think he could stand to be in any of their presence again without wanting to kill them where they stood. Besides, it seemed he could almost feel the displeasure of his former goddess, weighing down on him like an approaching storm.
 Arkron left the village without a backward glance, heading to the interior of the jungle island. Arkron had explored every inch of the island in his fifty-five years of life. He had always felt more comfortable within the embrace of the jungle rather than in the confines of the village. His knowledge of the jungle would serve him well now.
 Many days pass, and Arkon still eludes his pursuers. He watched now as a patrol walked past his hiding place, a ruin reclaimed by jungle growth. He considered killing a straggler, but thought better of it. He didn’t want to draw attention to this place. It was a good place to hide. Arkron himself had not known of its existence until last night.
 Finally the patrol moves far away, deeper into the jungle. Akron retreats further into the ruined building, exploring it. Apparently it was a mage's lab long ago. The remains of spell books lay in piles beneath rotted shelves, and several different vials and containers, all broken, lay strewn about the floor. Arkron notices a slight glow coming from deeper within the structure. As he approaches he sees that it is coming from some kind of… mirror? It is a mirror that casts no reflection however. Its frame is seven chromatic dragon heads screaming in silent rage.
 As Arkron draws closer the glow seems to increase, and he thinks he sees movement within the mirror. Though he knows some strange magic is at work, and that the chromatic dragons are the symbol of the hated Takhisis, he can not quiet his curiosity. Peering into the flat gray surface of the mirror he suddenly can make out the figure of a woman in the distance. She seems to be beckoning to him.
 He steps up onto the platform in front of the mirror, looking at the woman. Akron can scarce believe his eyes. It is his beloved Aloreh come back to him! He cries out in joy and moves to enter the mirror. As he moves he sees Aloreh’s face twist into a mocking grin, one never worn on her face in life. Suddenly, in her place stands Takhisis herself, appearing as a beautiful Nzunta woman, but with such a malevolent look of pure evil that no Nzunta could match.
 A fear greater than any Arkron has ever known sweeps through him then. And all he can think to do is run, RUN! But then he realizes he has already stepped through the portal into the Abyss! He turns and runs back through the portal, but then a brilliant flash blinds Arkron, and with it comes a pain like none he has ever known, or could have ever imagined possible. It is as if his very soul has split into infinite shards. The pain grows too intense to endure, and mercifully Arkron passes out.
 After what seemed to be an eternity of nothingness, Arkron slowly comes to his senses. He is no longer in the ruined mage’s lab, but rather in some strange place the likes of which he had never seen before. Looking about he sees what may once have been a building, but it is now reduced to knee high rubble in the shape of a circle surrounding him. The rubble is surrounded by forest, but it is unlike the forests of his jungle island. Cursing to himself Arkron slips into the shadows and sets off to explore these strange new realms.

Description
This OC has taken me many years, yes years, to get an image of I was happy with. I knew exactly what he looked like in my head, but just couldn't get on paper what I saw in my head. To be completely honest, this still isn't a perfect representation but it is close enough that I feel comfortable sharing it.
Arkron Kah is a character I created for my Dragonlance campaign several years ago, but until recently I never played him in a pen and paper session. However he really came alive when I played him via Neverwinter Nights on an online server, role playing alongside some really cool and creative people. Hey Elara and Sara!
He is a race known as "Nzunta", which is an offshoot of the original High Ogres. There were two main offshoots of the High Ogres that didn't degenerate into what is known as the Fallen Ogres. The Irda is the other offshoot race. Irda are generally benevolent and the Nzunta are generally... not. As Nzunta go Arkron is a sweetheart though. For the interested I have uploaded an image of how Arkron appeared in the NWN game here, ( [link] ) for comparison. Comments are welcome and appreciated.

EDIT: Added a short story about Arkron's origins...

Her eyes were like the sunrise, her skin the blue of the darkening sky, and her hair as black as midnight, just like his. Arkron knew he would never see beauty like hers again. Even by the standards of his race, the Nzunta, Aloreh was exceptional. His own skin was a deep green, and his eyes a lighter green with flecks of silver. Had any of the lesser races set eyes upon either of them they would have been awed by their grace and beauty. Such beauty has it's price however. Had either Aloreh or Arkron been less than perfect specimens of the Nzunta race, they would have been sacrificed to their dark goddess, Takhisis. Something as simple as being born with the silver hair of their hated cousins the Irda would see them suffer that fate.
 It troubled Arkron to think of such a thing happening to Aloreh however, especially since he was on his way to meet her. Besides, he knew the elders had their reasons. Strict racial purity had to be maintained lest their beautiful race degenerate into the hideous fallen ogres so many of their kin had succumbed to over the centuries. Offering the babes who did not meet their stringent requirements to Takhisis was simply a wise precaution in the elder’s minds. Still, he thought Aloreh would be just as beautiful with any color of hair, even the silver of their hated cousins.
 Arkron wasn’t sure why the Irda were so hated, having never met one. From what he had been told they were much alike, at least in appearance. Many tales were told of them around the campfires, but most focused on how they, the Nzunta, would someday destroy the last of the Irda and once again become the favored race of Takhisis. The Irda had turned from their goddess eons ago, choosing her weakling brother of a god Paladine as their own. An unwise choice, it seemed to Arkron. Takhisis didn’t take rejection very well, for soon after the Irda's betrayal the fallen ogres began being born to both Irda and Nzunta alike. The Nzunta blamed the Irda for their shared curse, and rightly so. Arkron idly wondered what the Irda did with their fallen.

For himself Arkron didn’t care if the day never came to pass that the Nzunta were once again in Takhisis’ favor. He liked his life on his island home, and he especially liked spending time with Aloreh. He saw her now, as he approached their meeting place, a large stone jutting out of the jungle soil. Arkron thought it might be the remnants of some building or another. The jungle was littered with ruins from the Nzunta’s grander days.
 Aloreh saw him approaching and came running to meet him. She was smiling as she always did when she saw him, and waving. He was touched by her obvious pleasure in seeing him. Arkron thought wryly that his own pleasure upon seeing her was just as great. He wondered if Aloreh could see that in him as he could her. She crashed into him with enough force to knock him back a step and wrapped her arms around him in embrace. Arkron returned the embrace and laughed as he took a step back to keep from falling. It was their usual greeting.
 Aloreh was tall, almost seven feet, though still not as tall as him. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back awaiting her kiss. Arkron took a moment to admire her innocent face before bestowing said kiss as she knew he would. One kiss and one embrace turned into many, and soon they lay together. Their bodies seemed to become one, and all conscious thought vanished as they simply reacted to one another’s needs. Afterwards Arkron mused that this time was the best it had ever been, he always felt that way afterwards.
 As they lay there in each other’s arms they talked of their love for each other. Aloreh believed it had to be the Valin they were experiencing, because her feelings were so strong. Arkron said that it might just be, but he secretly didn’t believe it. As far as he knew the Valin was just a romantic fairy tale to be told around the campfire late at night, usually in the hopes of gaining a bed partner. He’d used it for just such a thing a few times himself, before he came to know Aloreh. Besides the Valin, if it did exist, was supposed to make the desire to mate so strong it could not be denied, even if the one who you were drawn to you hated and despised. The feelings he shared with Aloreh came from getting to know one another, and recognizing in each other their missing half. The Valin made them no more than beasts unable to deny the need to rut.
 Eventually talk turned to their reason for having to meet out here in the jungle, instead of in his home like a normal Nzunta couple. Makra. Arkron scowled at the thought of the village shaman. Makra had developed an interest in Aloreh some months back, and had been pursuing her ever since. As the village shaman Makra held a position of power that made him a dangerous man to deny. His advances were becoming increasingly blatant as well. Several times he wanted to confront Makra but Aloreh prevented him, afraid Makra might do something to harm Arkron. Arkron feared for Aloreh’s safety as well. Makra was used to getting his way.
 Eventually it came time to return to their village, he to his dwelling and her to her own. They lingered a few moments more in each other’s arms before saying their farewells. Aloreh left first, as it wouldn’t do for them to return to the village together. Someone might see. Arkron watched her go until she was lost to the darkness, then slowly made his way back towards his home. Unknown to the couple, from the shadows of the nearby jungle growth, Makra watched with narrowed eyes.

Late that night Arkron's happy dreams of Aloreh were interrupted by the sounds of drums and chanting. As he lay there he slowly realized the chanting was for a ritual sacrifice to Takhisis. This puzzled him, because he knew there were no Nzunta women due to give birth. Perhaps another sailor had washed up on their shores, half drowned. As Arkron slipped on his leathers, he wondered why he was not told of the sacrifice, if indeed that was what was happening. Then realization hit him like the fiery mountain that had destroyed Istar so long ago. With a cold dread creeping through his chest Arkron ran out of his dwelling and towards the center of the village as fast as he could.
 As he reached the village center he saw the scene before him just as he feared he would. The entire tribe was dancing in a circle around the sacrificial altar, caught up in the ceremony. On the altar lay Aloreh, held in place with hemp ropes. Standing above her, looking directly at Arkron was Makra with his ceremonial dagger raised overhead. The curved blade glowed with an unholy light. With a strangled cry Arkron raced towards the altar. Suddenly he felt his limbs grow stiff and his mad dash towards Aloreh slowed, and then came to a stop. Arkron only then noticed the two sorcerers standing to either side of Makra, malicious grins on their faces.
 Aloreh heard him cry out and sought him out in the crowd. When she saw him she cried out his name and reached out to him imploringly. As her eyes fell upon him Makra plunged the dagger into her chest. A deft twist and he removed the dagger and put his hand in place of it. Arkron could only watch helplessly as Makra drew Aloreh’s still beating heart from her chest. He could only stare in mute horror as he watched the sun set in Aloreh’s beautiful golden eyes.
 Still held in place by the sorcerer’s enchantment, Arkron watched as Makra casually tossed the now still heart into the flames of the village fire. He sauntered over to Akron then, a sadistic smile upon his face. As Makra reached him, he leaned in close and whispered to Arkron, “No one may deny me foolish pup. You would do well to remember that. But then, I suspect tonight is one night you will never forget.” Gesturing to the sorcerers Makra told them to release Arkron. “Aloreh had been found... lacking in Takhisis’ eyes Arkron. Though it saddens us all she had to be sent into Her embrace. I know you do not question the will of Takhisis, correct pup?” With a low chuckle only loud enough for Arkron to hear Makra wandered away to his abode.
 As Makra walked away the sorcerers released Arkron. He tensed, about to spring on Makra, but knew the sorcerers would stop him before he made his second step. His shoulders slumped and Arkron forced himself to bury the rage and grief he felt into a deep, dark hole inside of him. With a murmured “all glory to Takhisis” he stalked off to his dwelling. He knew what he had to do.
 Arkron waited for the villagers to go to sleep. Many were energized by the sacrifice and it took a long time for all to return to their beds. He realized bitterly that he too would have been excited by the spectacle, had it been some half drowned sailor, or some infant born with a sixth toe or silver hair up there on the altar. Finally the village grew quiet. Arkron gathered up his meager possessions, strapped on his swords and crept quietly from his abode.
 As he suspected Makra had no guard on his door, and the sounds of soft, steady breathing emanated from within. Arkron knew that Makra didn’t think he would exact his vengeance upon him. He had been shaman a long time, and all accepted his judgment without question. Arkron smiled grimly at the thought and slipped into Makra’s tent.
 He stood over Makra a few moments, watching him sleep as though he had not ended Arkron's world mere hours ago. Arkron knew he himself would never sleep well again. Refusing to let the bastard sleep through his own death, Arkron got himself into position behind Makra’s bed, standing over his head. Softly, he uttered Makra’s name. Makra didn’t seem to hear at first, but then a subtle change to his breathing and a slight crease in Makra’s forehead told Arkron that he was awake. Akron watched with bitter amusement as Makra’s hand slowly crept towards the knife lying at the side of his bed.
 Just before he reached the blade, Arkron grabbed him by his chin and pulled it towards him, leaving his arched neck exposed. With his other hand Arkron slid the blade of his shortsword across Makra’s neck. Makra’s eyes snapped open and he coughed blood as he stared into Arkron’s own merciless gaze. “Give your bitch queen my regards when you see her Makra, may you both rot in the Abyss for all time!” Then he spit into Makra’s face, and watched the life fade from his eyes, just as he had done with Aloreh mere hours ago.
 Stepping out of Makra’s tent he surveyed the village. So many sleeping peacefully, who had watched with joy as Aloreh had her life taken from her. He wanted to creep into their tents and kill them all. Arkron knew he’d be caught if he tried however. He also knew that when they found Makra’s body they’d immediately suspect him. Even if they didn’t there were magics to learn the truth. It made no difference to Arkron. He didn’t think he could stand to be in any of their presence again without wanting to kill them where they stood. Besides, it seemed he could almost feel the displeasure of his former goddess, weighing down on him like an approaching storm.
 Arkron left the village without a backward glance, heading to the interior of the jungle island. Arkron had explored every inch of the island in his fifty-five years of life. He had always felt more comfortable within the embrace of the jungle rather than in the confines of the village. His knowledge of the jungle would serve him well now.
 Many days pass, and Arkon still eludes his pursuers. He watched now as a patrol walked past his hiding place, a ruin reclaimed by jungle growth. He considered killing a straggler, but thought better of it. He didn’t want to draw attention to this place. It was a good place to hide. Arkron himself had not known of its existence until last night.
 Finally the patrol moves far away, deeper into the jungle. Akron retreats further into the ruined building, exploring it. Apparently it was a mage's lab long ago. The remains of spell books lay in piles beneath rotted shelves, and several different vials and containers, all broken, lay strewn about the floor. Arkron notices a slight glow coming from deeper within the structure. As he approaches he sees that it is coming from some kind of… mirror? It is a mirror that casts no reflection however. Its frame is seven chromatic dragon heads screaming in silent rage.
 As Arkron draws closer the glow seems to increase, and he thinks he sees movement within the mirror. Though he knows some strange magic is at work, and that the chromatic dragons are the symbol of the hated Takhisis, he can not quiet his curiosity. Peering into the flat gray surface of the mirror he suddenly can make out the figure of a woman in the distance. She seems to be beckoning to him.
 He steps up onto the platform in front of the mirror, looking at the woman. Akron can scarce believe his eyes. It is his beloved Aloreh come back to him! He cries out in joy and moves to enter the mirror. As he moves he sees Aloreh’s face twist into a mocking grin, one never worn on her face in life. Suddenly, in her place stands Takhisis herself, appearing as a beautiful Nzunta woman, but with such a malevolent look of pure evil that no Nzunta could match.
 A fear greater than any Arkron has ever known sweeps through him then. And all he can think to do is run, RUN! But then he realizes he has already stepped through the portal into the Abyss! He turns and runs back through the portal, but then a brilliant flash blinds Arkron, and with it comes a pain like none he has ever known, or could have ever imagined possible. It is as if his very soul has split into infinite shards. The pain grows too intense to endure, and mercifully Arkron passes out.
 After what seemed to be an eternity of nothingness, Arkron slowly comes to his senses. He is no longer in the ruined mage’s lab, but rather in some strange place the likes of which he had never seen before. Looking about he sees what may once have been a building, but it is now reduced to knee high rubble in the shape of a circle surrounding him. The rubble is surrounded by forest, but it is unlike the forests of his jungle island. Cursing to himself Arkron slips into the shadows and sets off to explore these strange new realms.