Inside the towering white walls that encircled and protected the Iron Antler tribe, a sense of urgency filled the air. The tribal army, like a well-oiled machine, began its meticulous preparations for the impending battle. Each warrior moved with remarkable speed and synchronization, a testament to their years of training and discipline.
Amidst the chaos of preparation, the armored guards, their iron-clad bodies gleaming in the pale moonlight, assumed their positions along the battlements. Their vigilant eyes scanned the horizon, ever watchful for signs of the approaching enemy. On the wall's towering parapets, archers readied their bows, arrows nocked and ready to be unleashed upon any threat.
Not far from the battlements, a group of mages from the Iron Antler tribe emerged, their presence denoted by the faint shimmer of crystal-tipped staves clutched tightly in their hands. These mystical practitioners were the keepers of ancient knowledge, their powers a vital resource in the tribe's defense.
The moon hung like a silent sentinel in the night sky, casting an ethereal glow upon the scene below, bearing witness to the solemn preparations taking place within the Iron Antler tribe.
As the combatants readied themselves for the impending clash, the tribe's civilians embarked on a parallel mission – evacuation to the heart of their settlement, where the perceived safety of unity awaited them. Families moved with hurried determination, ensuring their loved ones found shelter within the tribe's protective core.
Amidst the organized chaos, Algani, the stoic leader of the Iron Antler tribe, oversaw the movements of his army with unwavering resolve etched into his features. His face betrayed no emotions, yet his eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty. There was something in the words of Gideon that had cast a shadow of doubt over Algani's heart. He couldn't comprehend how it had come to this, but his once unshakable confidence now teetered on the precipice of uncertainty.
"Father," Gighan, Algani's son, approached him, donned in a suit of gleaming iron armor, his strong frame wielding both shield and sword. "I understand that we're preparing to face the Gold Mane tribe, but are these preparations not somewhat excessive?" Gighan spoke with a hint of amusement, believing his father to be overthinking the situation.
"One can never be overly prepared," Algani responded, his gaze never wavering from the advancing army beyond the walls. "It is far better to err on the side of caution than to rue underestimating our foes."
Gighan chuckled, seemingly unconvinced. "We're facing just twenty-four enemies, and even if they've lied about their numbers, judging by their current state, they hardly appear capable of posing a threat. This battle, I predict, will be over before midnight, a one-sided massacre."
Algani turned to fix his son with a grave stare. "I wish I could share your optimism, Gighan. But have you not noticed something peculiar about their leader?"
Gighan furrowed his brow, perplexed. "Their leader? The one they paraded as their chief? Yes, I observed that he appears to be a mere puppet. A talking rat used to deceive us into believing he's their leader. I'd wager that poor creature is trembling in fear right now. If it survives this encounter, I might even take it as a pet."
Algani shook his head slowly, his expression still heavy with unease. "I have a feeling that he is, in fact, their true leader. Something tells me we should not underestimate him."
Gighan tilted his head, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean, father?"
"To command the loyalty of the most formidable tribe in this forest, one must possess something extraordinary," Algani said, his voice tinged with foreboding. "While he may not appear physically imposing, there must be something about him that compelled the Gold Mane tribe to trust him with their lives."
Before Gighan could respond, a series of horns erupted in a cacophony of sound, filling the night air. The horns, wielded by guards stationed along the massive white stone wall, sounded in unison, their ominous blasts reverberating in all directions.
Algani and Gighan exchanged alarmed glances, quickly moving toward the nearest section of the wall. As they did, the cries of despair from the stationed guards echoed through the fortress. Many fell to their knees, their faces twisted in fear.
"The horns, all sounded simultaneously... It has been many years since this last occurred," Gighan mumbled, his eyes widening as realization dawned. "Could it be that the lionkin misled us about their numbers? Do they still possess enough warriors to encircle our tribe?"
The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the night air, as the Iron Antler tribe faced the gathering storm on their doorstep, the truth of their perilous situation slowly dawning upon them.
The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery glow upon the tall white stone wall that surrounded the tribal capital. Algani and Gighan approached the wall with a sense of unease gnawing at their hearts. The tension in the air was palpable, and the distant echoes of war drums only added to their apprehension.
As they drew closer to the wall, Algani noticed a lone guard standing there, his face etched with fear, a fear that seemed to intensify upon seeing Algani, their revered tribe leader. Without wasting a moment, Algani commanded in a voice that brooked no dissent, "What is happening? Tell me!"
The guard hesitated, his gaze locked with Algani's. His voice quivered as he finally spoke, "We are going to be destroyed. We are going to die."
Algani's eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer to the trembling guard. "What did you see? What did you see outside?"
But before the guard could respond, a powerful gust of wind swept over them, so forceful that it sent some of the archers and mages stationed on the wall tumbling over the edge. Algani and Gighan instinctively looked up at the sky, and what they saw there filled them with a terror that words couldn't adequately describe.
An immense silhouette, blacker than the darkest night, emerged from beyond the wall and soared into the sky. Its sheer size cast an enormous shadow on the ground below, sending waves of fear rippling through everyone who beheld it.
"A... A black dragon?" Algani gasped, his disbelief evident as he slowly shook his head. This was a creature of legend, a harbinger of doom, and yet here it was, a living nightmare in the flesh.
The revelation, however, was far from over. From different directions along the protective wall that encircled the tribe, nine more black dragons emerged, their wings beating rhythmically as they took to the sky. The ten colossal creatures formed a menacing circle above, their presence alone enough to send a chorus of despair echoing through the heart of the tribal capital.
"How can this be?" Gighan muttered, his jaw dropping and his eyes widening in sheer disbelief.
From among the black dragons in the sky, a thunderous roar erupted, a roar akin to a raging lion declaring its dominance. It was a war cry, an ominous declaration that the battle had officially begun. The ten dragons dispersed, each heading in a different direction, preparing for a devastating assault.
"Leo Feria," Gighan whispered, his voice filled with recognition and a dawning horror. "Father..."
Algani met Gighan's gaze, his own eyes shimmering with a strange mixture of fear and determination. "Prepare for the incoming battle! We cannot allow them to maintain aerial superiority. Bring out the ballistae!" His voice was a clarion call to action, and the warriors surrounding him sprang into motion with a sense of urgency that matched the gravity of the situation.
Gighan drew his sword, the blade gleaming in the moonlight, and raised his shield. Algani's gaze never left the nightmarish spectacle of ten black dragons circling ominously overhead.
"What kind of malevolent god have we just angered?" Algani muttered to himself, his voice filled with a sense of dread that matched the enormity of the threat before them.
The tribal capital, once a place of peace and unity, now stood on the precipice of annihilation. The black dragons, ancient and terrible, were harbingers of death and destruction, and they circled overhead with an aura of malevolence that sent shivers down the spines of all who beheld them.
The tribe's inhabitants had gathered in the central square, their faces contorted with fear and disbelief. The cries of terrified citizens filled the air, mingling with the distant roars of the lionkin. Mothers clutched their children tightly, while warriors donned their armor and sharpened their weapons, their expressions grim but resolute.
Algani stood at the forefront, his eyes never leaving the circling dragons. He was a formidable leader, respected and revered by his people, but even he felt the weight of the impending battle pressing down upon him. The fate of their tribe, their way of life, hung in the balance.
Gighan, his son and heir, stood beside him, his young face etched with determination. He had been trained for this moment, but nothing could truly prepare him for the sight of these monstrous creatures. He glanced at his father, seeking strength and guidance, and found it in Algani's unwavering resolve.
The night air was thick with tension as the tribal warriors mobilized. Ballistae were rolled into position along the wall, their massive torsion springs primed and ready. Archers took their positions, nocking arrows that gleamed with enchantments. Mages chanted incantations, preparing spells to defend their home.
As the dragons continued their ominous circling, their scales glistening like obsidian in the moonlight, Algani raised his voice once more, rallying his troops. "We will not yield to fear! We have faced adversity before, and we will face it again. These dragons may be fearsome, but we are the defenders of our home, and we will not be broken!"
A chorus of resounding cheers and battle cries erupted from the assembled warriors, their spirits bolstered by their leader's unwavering resolve. The tribal capital, once a place of peace, had now become a fortress of defiance.