"Sheathe your sword," you tell the warrior. "Who do you think you are taking orders from? Vanya? He is not your chieftain. I am, and I live still, despite his best efforts to put an end to me in Anselm's Landing. So leave your sword where it was, unless you intend to use it on the traitor who stands among us now."
The warrior waits a moment, then sheathes his weapon. "Is this true, Vanya?" he asks, gesturing to the other warriors who have now gathered around the stone circle. "You told us, all of us, that Basileios died in Anselm's Landing. Convinced us that he saw something special in you, and that we should follow you as a new chieftain until we reached a place of safety. Was it…was it all a lie?"
"I did what anyone else with aspiration and a bit of sense would do," says Vanya. "I saw an opportunity to improve both my own position and the fortunes of the Tribe of the Red Bear, by ridding us of one who had become a liability. We survived the Varrel Hills with luck and numbers on our side, but it is my skill that has allowed us to pass through the lands beyond Anselm's Landing without incident. I may have only been here a short time, but I am a fine leader. What would Basileios do but take his people on a fool's errand to die in the frozen wastes of the north!"
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