Black Dermis Encampment!
At the entrance of the Black Dermis encampment, the pale-faced Chief, flanked by several burly beastmen guards, trudged forward with a grim determination.
Outside the gates, astride a towering warg, Cadia of the Silvermane tribe called out, her voice cutting through the crisp air, "So Chief, have you decided your path clearly?"
The sight of Cadia seemed to drain what little color remained from Chief's face, now a ghastly shade of gray. Despite his weakened state, the reality of their dire situation weighed heavily upon him.
The recent defeat had left the Black Dermis tribe crippled, a mere shadow of its former strength with only a handful of wounded warriors surviving, each marred by the scars of battle. Chief, saved perhaps only by destiny, had barely escaped with his life.
Immediately upon his harrowing return, knowing full well the relentless pursuit of the Silvermane tribe wouldn't cease, had ordered a desperate migration. His plan was to seek refuge with the Duakin Tribe, under the protection of Mamuti, the tribe's ambitious fourth son.
However, before they could embark, Silvermane's warriors had descended upon them. Now, facing down the menacing array of over a hundred warg-mounted archers, he felt a gnawing unease. His tribe, depleted and demoralized, could hardly muster fifty fighters in their defense. How could they possibly stand against such overwhelming force?
Moreover, any attempt at resistance would likely provoke a brutal massacre by the Silvermane tribe. Torn by indecision, he pondered the implications of his previous actions and the potential consequences of allying with Silvermane now.
"It seems you've opted for resistance," Cadia declared, a note of finality in her tone as the archers tensed, readying their bows.
The chief's expression contorted with fear and urgency. Could they truly be on the brink of annihilation?
At this critical juncture, Tyton, one of Logan new advisors, stepped forward, sensing Cadia's impatience thinning. "Commander Cadia, please, grant me a moment to speak," he implored, hoping to stave off a violent confrontation.
Logan likely summoned him here with the hope that he could secure the allegiance of the Black Dermis tribe members. If they were slaughtered on Cardia's orders, would Logan still hold him in high regard?
"Taton... Young... Brother, speak your piece," Cardia urged, nodding toward Taton as she prepared to address the gathered crowd.
Throughout their journey together, Taton had left a favorable impression on Cardia with his wise and measured words.
"Taton's voice rang out clearly, "Asaka, if you cherish your life and the lives of your people, lay down your arms. The Black Dermis Tribe is starved and weakened. Only by aligning with the Silver Mane Tribe can you hope to survive."
"You traitor! The alliance will crumble because of your betrayal!" Asaka spat the words with venom, his eyes burning with resentment.
"It is you, Chief, who have betrayed our trust," declared a beastman guard, his tone ice-cold.
"Fools, you traitors..." Asaka's voice broke off in rage.
Ignoring Asaka's fury, one of the guards turned to address the stunned warriors on both sides, his command ringing out clear, "If you don't go and open the gates to welcome the Silver Mane Tribe, are you prepared to wage a needless war against them?"
This command seemed to jolt some of the hesitant beastmen warriors into action. They quickly moved to open the gates of the Black Dermis Tribe.
Outside, Cardia watched the unfolding scene from her vantage point. The swift betrayal by Asaka's personal guards was unexpected, leaving her momentarily puzzled.
"Tyton... little brother, well done!" Cardia exclaimed with admiration upon seeing the tribe's gates swing open.
Tyton, witnessing the scene, simply shook his head in mild confusion, caught off guard by the guards' rapid decision.
As Cardia and Tyton led the newly aligned Black Road tribe toward the Silvermane stronghold, Chief Youwa of the Youwa tribe, Tyton's father, mobilized over two hundred of his tribesmen at dawn. The beastmen charged across the plains to join their allies at Silvermane.
By noon, Crowe and Bagan had successfully rallied the Kala and Samo tribes, respectively, adding their numbers to the growing coalition at Silvermane.
The influx of tribespeople from all four groups into the Silvermane tribe initiated a flurry of activity among the upper echelons of their society. Even Logan, the leader, was deeply involved in orchestrating accommodations for the newcomers. By nightfall, the arrangements were finally set.
That night, under a vast, starlit sky, a great assembly took place on the barren outskirts of the Silvermane encampment. A multitude of tribespeople, including those from the newly joined tribes, gathered around a central wooden altar, encircled by nine towering pyres.
The Silvermane populace, although unsure of the proceedings' purpose, had been summoned by order of their leaders. Even the senior tribal leaders, including Logan, Lott, Crowe, and Bagan, were present, drawn by the gravity of Logan's decree.
Amidst the throng, Begon cast a puzzled glance towards Crowe and inquired, "What exactly is the plan here?" The rest of the crowd's eyes followed, seeking answers about the ominous altar and the ring of firewood piles orchestrated under Crowe's direction.
Crowe responded with a helpless shrug, "I'm as in the dark as you are. All of this was set up under the chief's commands."
The revelation that not even Crowe understood the purpose behind their gathering sent a ripple of confusion through the crowd.
"But," Crowe continued, somewhat reluctantly, "these pyres aren't just wood, they're stacked with the bodies of warriors who fell in battle."
The murmur that followed was tinged with disbelief and curiosity. Was Logan planning merely to cremate the fallen, or was there a deeper significance to this somber assembly? The question hung heavily in the air, unanswered.