[ On the outskirts of Aldrip lie the training grounds. Except for the snakes that now whisper through the grass, the grounds appear the same as ever: a modest but proud symbol of collective Chosen effort. As dawn breaks, a warm orange glow suffuses the tops of the structures huddled there.

It may not seem like much at first. Perhaps even normal. A thin trail of smoke might be the first indicator that something could be amiss. To anyone optimistic enough to think it might just be a stray campfire or training quirk from an early morning participant, the second fire may be more telling.

Tents are on fire, soon to be ablaze. The damage can be minimzed if Chosen are quick enough to respond; fortunately, the fires don't seem to start where they might have spread most voraciously. But there's always a risk that a stiff errant wind might bear sparks to new fuel...

The culprit? Nowhere to be seen, though forensic investigation may find traces of a scheme. Glass lanterns shattered, old wood as good as tinder strewn about. Considerations to be had later, once the danger has passed. ]