[DanteriusAvius]

It had been believed by many that the Doth'Ral had abandoned their camp, had left their attempts on Meranthe to return to their homeland. And yet, a few stubborn tents remained. The sound of hammering echoing from one of the tents.

"Our traditions are my life, our traditions are sacred. We are the chosen of Rhaeshisari, our duty and purpose to honor him with our victory, with our spoils. We do not fear. We do not run in the face of hardship. Our lives are hardship, they are struggle, that struggle provides us with meaning."

Those who remained were beginning to unify once more, a call put out again.

"I had not believed I would see such a face of meekness, of sheer cowardice, from the men of the Ilsam. That when faced with the most minor of setbacks you all set to flee and turn home. That not one of you has the stones to take the mantle of leadership. There is none of Rhaeshisari in you, nothing but the spinelessness of men who've lost their thirst for glory.

So I shall shame every one of you further, that you will never sully our blood with your weakness again."

One of the reclusive women of the tribe, stepping forward where none else would.

"I will break one tradition I hold dear, that you will all understand how pathetic you are. I shall lead us to glory, I shall find a treasure worthy of Rhaeshisari, or make one with my own hands if necessary. I will bring it to his feet, and request only one thing.

That all of you who ran know his wrath. That you be cast from our home, cast from your very blood, and our people made stronger for it.

And know that when that day comes, it will be a woman who did it."

((In my stubborness I refuse to let this die, you can dm me if you wish to help chart a new path.

Discord: dantefalcon

Poro in the Eternia discord.))