The wide open steppes gave way to a series of mountains and valleys. The beastmen called this place The Dragon’s Maw. The mountains were rough and craggy, and the valleys inhospitable and full of crevasses that lead into nothingness. No beastman tribe lived in The Dragon’s Maw, but there was an important religious site on Mount Smoke so there was a well trodden path through the difficult terrain which led right up to the volcano.
The path was narrow and prone to rock and mudslides. The Horde’s main army was gathering at an outpost right before The Dragon’s Maw, blocking the path that led to Mount Smoke. If the United Army made it here, they would have no choice but to fight the Horde from an inferior position. The Horde’s army was positioned on higher ground, with natural springs feeding terraced gardens and watering enough land for the Horde’s domesticated monsters to graze on. The army could survive for a month in this position, giving them more than enough time to finish the ceremony and beat back the United Army with whatever powers Madness would give them after he was finished with the ceremony.
There was no other way to get to Mount Smoke, since The Dragon’s Maw extended to the ocean on both sides, and the waters were infested with terrible monsters and prone to continuous and unpredictable storms. Facing the Horde’s army head on would be even tougher once they finished setting up their defensive fortifications, including a large moat and miles of ramparts and archer towers. There were many positions higher up the foothills from where archers could rain projectiles down onto the open fields where the United Army would be forced to encamp. Really, I couldn’t see how the United Army could hope to get through this defensive position without heavy magical bombardment and incredible casualties.
We didn’t sabotage this outpost because there was nowhere for the beastmen to fall back to once it fell. Mount Smoke could not hold an army of this size and even crossing The Dragon’s Maw with an army like this one would lead to countless deaths and injuries. Besides, we had outpaced the soldiers from all of the outposts and encampments that we had sabotaged on our way over. The Council still did not know that our party had been rampaging across their country, cutting a path right up to this outpost. After eavesdropping on a beastman general, we learned that the Council was commanding this army personally which meant attacking this outpost would alert the Council. There would have been no point to outrunning all of those messengers that the various commanders and generals had sent out, if we were just going to reveal ourselves like this.
And so, I cast invisibility magic on our party and helped us sneak past the final outpost. The encampment was dense and there wasn’t a lot of room for Paris to walk without being noticed. I had to help the massive Fil Tusker scale a steep cliff to avoid being spotted, and reunited with the rest of the party near the entrance of the path that crossed The Dragon’s Maw. Kelser took over the invisibility and detection magics that I had been casting, and I left the others to return back to the final outpost.
If the entire Council was supposed to be here, this was the perfect time to learn more about the ceremony. I also needed to know where Noel and Alek were going to be and if the Immortals had appeared to the beastmen in person.
The command tent for this outpost was larger than any I had seen before. In fact, with its large wooden poles and layers of fine cloth, it looked less like a tent and more like a small palace. There were guards all around the command tent, all from different beastmen tribes. The tent was in the middle of the encampment, and only the tribes that were represented on the Council were living this close to the command tent. Other tribes, like the Lago Sylvil and Cabal Equ, were stuck closer to the front of the camp, while some of the less warlike tribes like the Anthra Terrers were in charge of maintaining supplies and other menial tasks, and were put near the back of the encampment.
After carefully making sure I was completely undetectable, even with the beastmen’s heightened hearing and smell, I walked right through the front entrance of the command tent and passed through the labyrinthine hallways to the main meeting room. I overheard that the Council would be meeting in a moment, and that nobody was to enter the tent until sunset. After hearing voices coming from a room near the back of the tent, I finally found the Council’s meeting room and stood in the corner far away from the old beastmen who were sitting mostly in the darkness.
A rough scratching sound filled the darkness. Once more. A spark flew. Then again and there was a flame on a candle in the middle of the room. The candle rested on a wooden table just a little taller than my navel. The candle’s flame wasn’t very strong, but it was just enough to light up the faces of the elders of the Council of the Singing Horde.
“In the name of the Lord of Harmony and Melody, I call this meeting of the Council to order,” said a wizened beastman with glistening scales and two horns protruding from his skull. He looked like a dragon in the dim light, but on closer inspection, he seemed closer to a snake.
“The Feli Panthera are in attendance,” said a tiger-like beastman with a gnarly voice.
“The Bos Bov tribe is present,” said an old beastwoman with one broken horn and another that curved back down at a nasty angle.
“The Arkto Gwer greet their friends on the Council,” said a short beastwoman with two round brown ears and stubby nose.
“The Archelon Tortue are here as well,” said a blind beastwoman with a thick shell on her back.
“And the Drak Serpe tribe welcomes you all to this meeting,” said the dragon-like serpant beastman who had lit the candle.
The elders continued with some traditional greetings and small topics that had more to do with their own customs and reviews for the previous meeting as well as plans for the next one. In the meantime, I used light magic to make it easier for my eyes to see in the dim light, helping me get a better look at the members of the Council.
The five beastmen sitting on the table in front of me looked incredibly old and frail. Almost all of them had scars and injuries somewhere on their body, and most seemed to hunch over or require assistance from their chair or walking stick. From what I had overheard from the various camps and outposts we had listened in on, these were the leaders of the five most powerful tribes in the Singing Horde, and together, they made up the Council that decided various things during emergencies like at times when the Horde’s lands were being invaded.
I also knew that the tribes of the Council did not necessarily get along all that well when there wasn’t an outside force to bring them together. The Feli Panthera and the Drak Serpe were some of the oldest and most powerful tribes in the horde, and had never been kicked out of the Council since the Council was first formed. These two tribes had the most powerful warriors and skilled weapon smiths. No other tribe dared challenge them and the only reason they couldn’t completely take over the entire Horde was because they were bitter rivals who served to check each other’s power.
The Archelon Tortue also had a rich history going back many generations. They had long life spans and weren’t very aggressive, being one of the only beastmen in the Horde that lived near the ocean. They served as a balancing force on the council, since they were not aligned with either the Feli Panthera or the Drak Serpe.
“Are we done with the pleasantries yet?” said the elder from the Arkto Gwer.
The Arkto Gwer were a bear-like beastman tribe and the most recent to rise to the Council. They were the ones who had challenged and defeated the Lago Sylvil, and were probably the most violent tribe on the council right now. They were also aligned with the Drak Serpe, which had greatly upset the balance of power on the Council, according to the disgruntled Drak Serpe general I had overheard at the last outpost. That general did not like the direction his tribe had been moving in recently, and was one of the only beastmen I had met who had not been satisfied with fighting a war for the God of Music. I would have tried to get him to switch to our side, if it wasn’t for his undying loyalty to his tribe which meant I could never trust him enough to make use of him.
“Your impatience is displeasing,” said the elder of the Bos Bov.
The Arkto Gwer elder put up her hands and laughed lightly, “My bad. Wouldn’t want to displease you, your highness.”
“Your humor is also displeasing,” said the elder of the Bos Bov.
“Your lack of vocabulary is the most displeasing of all,” said the Arkto Gwer elder.
I almost let out a sigh. Was it even worth spying on a meeting like this one?
Drop a heart!