We will never ever ever be apart

A few days later the fire burned low as Arika crouched over a patch of flattened earth, using a piece of sharpened charcoal to sketch a rough map. Around her, the Toquiri warriors sat in clusters, their voices carrying a new clarity. The influence of the three outsiders—particularly the strange, flowing language they had brought—was becoming apparent. Conversations, once brief and stilted, were now richer and more expressive. Even Arika, ever pragmatic, found herself speaking more fluidly, her gravelly tone punctuated with longer explanations and a touch more warmth.

"This," she began, gesturing to the map's central section, "is our territory." She drew a circle around a section of the forest and a swath of the plains. "The Great Forest," she said, tapping the shaded area. "Here is where we hunt. It is thick, dangerous, but it provides." She paused, pointing to the edge of the forest near the plains. "And here is where we first found you."

Rice gave a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his head. "Hard to forget."

Arika ignored him and moved her charcoal to the plains, drawing a larger circle that encompassed a shimmering shape representing a lake.

"This is the land of the Katalu," she said. "Their tribe sits near the Great Lake. They have fish, plenty of it, and good hunting around the water. They are strong warriors, but we have had only small disputes with them—never war."

Ryden flipped open his booklet, and as if responding to the information, the pages glowed faintly. New text scrawled itself across the surface:

[YOU HAVE ENCOUNTERED A NEW TRIBE]

[TRIBE NAME: Katalu]

[POPULATION: 189]

[TECHNOLOGY LEVEL: Tribal]

[CURRENT LEADER: Zovar Haliq]

[WARRIORS: 40]

[TERRITORY SIZE: Approximately 23 square miles]

"Forty warriors?" Ryden muttered, raising an eyebrow. "They've got us beat on numbers."

"They have the lake," Arika said simply. "And the fish. Strong food, strong bodies."

"Sounds like they've got a good setup," Darius added, his tone thoughtful.

"They do," Arika agreed. "But we have our ways."

She moved her charcoal to another section of the map, this time further south and west. She drew a jagged circle around a rocky, hilly area. Her brow furrowed as she spoke.

"This is the land of the Varuka. They are… different." Her tone hardened slightly, and a flicker of tension crossed her face. "The land there is harsh—rocky, dry. But it gives them something valuable. Their weapons—stone, sharper and stronger than ours."

Darius's ears seemed to perk up, and he exchanged a glance with Ryden and Rice. The rocky terrain meant there was a high chance of finding metals or other resources that could be used for crafting.

"They are not our friends," Arika continued, her tone sharpening. "Their chief, Orvek, is a brute. He pushes the borders, tests our strength, he respects honor, but we do not trust them."

As she spoke, the booklet in Ryden's hands glowed again, updating with new information.

[YOU HAVE ENCOUNTERED A NEW TRIBE]

[TRIBE NAME: Varuka]

[POPULATION: 210]

[TECHNOLOGY LEVEL: Advanced Tribal]

[CURRENT LEADER: Orvek Drenn]

[WARRIORS: 60]

[TERRITORY SIZE: Approximately 30 square miles]

"Sixty warriors," Ryden read aloud, his voice low. "And better weapons. That's… concerning."

"They're definitely a threat," Darius said, his expression grim. "If they push further into your territory, you'll need more than spear throwers to hold them back."

Before the conversation could continue, a figure burst into the clearing, his breathing labored as he stumbled toward Arika. It was one of the younger warriors, his face flushed from running.

"Arika!" he called out, his voice urgent. "Visitors—one from the Katalu, one from the Varuka. They are at the edge of the camp."

The entire group tensed, warriors immediately gripping their weapons. Arika straightened, her expression unreadable as she nodded to the young man. "Bring them," she commanded.

Moments later, two figures entered the clearing. One was a tall man with sun-kissed skin and a mane of curly black hair tied back in a loose knot. He wore a tunic of finely woven reeds and carried a spear tipped with sharp, polished stone. His posture was calm but commanding, his dark eyes scanning the camp with an air of quiet authority.

The other was shorter but no less imposing, a woman with a stocky frame and a stern face. Her hair was cropped close to her head, and she wore a tunic made of layered leather. The axe strapped to her back gleamed ominously, its edge almost unnaturally sharp.

The tall man from the Katalu spoke first, inclining his head respectfully. "Chief Arika. I am Meskar, here on behalf of Zovar Haliq."

The woman from the Varuka followed, her voice harsher. "I am Rehn of the Varuka. Orvek Drenn sends his message through me."

Arika crossed her arms, her gaze steady as she regarded the two. "And what is this message?"

Meskar spoke, his voice calm but firm. "There will be a gathering of the tribes. A council of leaders, in two days' time. Orvek has called it, and Zovar has agreed."

Rehn stepped forward. "All tribes within the Great Plains and the Forest are to attend. Orvek wishes to discuss matters of territory and resources." Her tone suggested it wasn't a request.

Arika's eyes narrowed, but she nodded slowly. "Very well," she said. "Tell your leaders I will come."

Meskar and Rehn exchanged a glance, then turned and left without another word, leaving the Toquiri to contemplate the news.

As the camp settled back into a tense quiet, Arika turned to the three outsiders. "This council," she said, her voice low but steady, "will decide more than borders. It could decide war or peace."