Kophka grinned as he saw his friend Braeden Rhal riding up. So far, Braeden was the first D'haran he'd seen that actually sat a horse like a rider, rather than a load. The amusement he felt lifted his spirits a bit as he waved to his friend, but his purpose here was still on his mind. He was the last of his clan that he knew of, and he still had no idea how it had happened. Later that evening, over roasted meats and salt, and cold clear water, Kophka told Braeden what had occured.
"I don't understand what happened, but as we started to move west of Yalen, something changed in the spirits of my people. They became quiet at first, and often stopped to gaze at the lands around them, but not in the normal manner of wander lust. Some even spoke of stopping here and there, and resting for a while.
Then, one morning, many members of the clan were missing. When tracked, they were found to be at a local farmstead, offering assistance in return for a bed, and the right to clear land for their own. Being a free people, it saddened me to leave them, but it was their right. But it got worse. Before long, even my veteran men were stopping at villages, and finding work, and leaving the clan.
Soon it was just me and a few others, and I tried all I could to force them to keep the fire that had sustained our nomadic life for so long, and our love of war. But I relaxed my vigil for just a few nights, and they too were gone.
Now I am alone, and I haven't felt a single flicker to indicate my soul has lost the flame of vigor and love of battle. I don't understand what affected my people, and why I was immune. I know you are steeped in the lore of this land, and hoped you could help me to find an answer. I will leave my people to their wishes and settled fates, but I want to make sure that this does not happen again!