<Lathorious points towards the mammoths of the northern tundra.>
With each passing day their numbers diminish. Demons that call themselves hunters slay the beasts for sport and riches.
<Lathorius' face contorts with anger.>
It's the whimpers that drive me to madness, <name>. You can hear them, carried by the wind. The mammoth calves, trapped in the hunters' vile traps, call out to us.
Take this hammer and smash those traps. Free the calves!
Progress
They must be freed!
Completion
<Arch Druid Lathorius wipes away his tears.>
They never stood a chance. Now orphaned, they will surely die on their own.