War At Our Doorstep

Chief Bellamy and Lars strolled through the bustling heart of the Tribe of Three settlement, walking slowly to take in the sight.

Bellamy hummed, pleased, as he took in the various sights and smells in the air.

The settlement around them was a hive of activity where the warriors trained, the smiths hammered out weapons out of the limited supply of iron they had, and the scouts gathered in loose groups to report sightings and movements. 

Not a hint of what they were planning must get out. Either to the Ross soldiers or to the other tribes deep in barbarian lands.

Anybody entering the settlement would be able to tell what they were planning. With the clanging of metal, the shrill cries of their wyverns, and the low, steady rhythm of war drums, there was only one thing it would lead to.

War.

A small smile appeared on Bellamy's face as he shaded his eyes and looked up. Even the skies were not safe from their preparations.