The Grove
"How are the preparations?" asked the middle-aged half-elf with glowing swirling tattoos across his body, sitting on the wooden chair in the middle of a grove.
"We are steadily capturing the people. If we continue at such speed, we will be able to reach our target weeks before the deadline." Replied the woman, with thin wings.
Like the man, her body is also covered in those swirling shining tattoos.
The man nodded with a smile before his expression turned serious. "Our enemies seemed to have gotten a whiff of it and hunted our members," advised the middle-aged half-elf, but the women just smiled.
She didn't seem to be much worried about it.
"They might be hunting us, but they won't be able to stop us. We have been preparing for it, for over a thousand year and we will succeed," said the woman with confidence oozing from her voice.
Vote, Please. Its Sunday.
Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please. Golden Tickets, Please.