Home at last, is once again within their midst. Only a few remain that have survived the many travesties of the wasteland and still remember the clan as it was when it first formed. Things are different now, though. As the weather began to turn sour, the clan found their way to a new place, seemingly too good to be true.

Beneath a cavernous pustule in the soil (big enough so as to nearly rival the Great Wound Itself) they find a series of caves and tunnels, seemingly abandoned. A lesser clan must've suffered a terrible fate here, but as they have traveled they've grown strong. Even the stink of the ooze that seeps into the tunnels here does not affect the wanderers, and they're quick to make this new place their home.

This is only possible, of course, under the careful leadership of their new Master. He has high, high hopes for the community, and he intends fully to continue with the work they've been doing on their dear Emperor. Lugging the lurching, violent beast through the wastes had been awful, but he had helped, hadn't he? He was strong, and seemingly almost omnipotent. He quelled the beast, even made it a warm, comforting home to stew in once they found this new place.

Yes, things were going well. If there were suspicions about their new leader, noone voiced them, even those who thought it strange that he had known of this promised land before they came across it.