Gathering!

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.