"We can't just kill you," says Vanya. "The tribe would suspect something. So we're going to have a funeral. You'll be found dead in an alley in the city one afternoon, the stink of alcohol on your breath. Natural causes, of course, very unfortunate. The Tribe of the Red Bear will mourn you, of course, but then they will look for a new leader, and behold—Vanya will return to the fold in their time of need. I am an outsider, true, but I rode at your side through Blightmarsh and the Varrel Hills. If I can convince Kral and Seramet that you named me your heir, the rest of the tribe will follow."
Utrio calls for more of his guards, while Vanya pushes your eyelids closed. Moments later, you feel strong hands pick you up and carry you from the room.
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