With the greatest sorrow, the Council and whole Hinnom kingdom mourns the passing of the Great Henan'el, who faced alone an overwhelming army of undead vine abominations that crawled out of the shades of the Pangaean jungles. During his life, he was like a shining star whose light was unbearable to mere mortals. In battle, he was like a tornado, like a living flame sowing death whenever he waded. Towering above the battlefields, his hand was firm and unwavering, his eye was sharp and few who faced his wrath lived to tell the tale. He was slain by a treacherous magic, by unnatural darkness that blinded his eyes, and by a sleep-inducing poison that stole strength from his limbs.
He will be mourned, he will be sorely missed, and he won't be ever forgotten. But for now, the unholy, wild Pangaean hordes breached our first line of defense and are spewing into our beautiful, cultivated lands like a putrid sewage. Every man able to wield a sword or spear is called into battle, every beast who shares our fate, every demon who forged a pact with us is summoned to stand by our side in this dire hour.