As the Tauren moot drew to an uncomfortable close late into the evening of the final day of the week, the caravans and individuals waited til morning to disperse back into the lowlands and return to their territories or into the wilds.
As An’she rose above the crests of the mountains to begin a new day, one camp did not stir. Noon arrived and still no movement from within any of the tents or around the central fire that they had been assembled.
Upon investigation, neighbouring Tauren found that the inhabitants of this particular camp slain in their bed rolls, blood soaked into the dusty earth they had set themselves upon. Each tent revealed the same story, young and old, male or female, none had survived the night and had been cut down silently.
In the central tent however, no corpse was there to be found and instead there were signs of a struggle and at it’s centre the flag of the Horde hung from the roof beam, drenched in blood. At the back of the tent stood a lone totem, abandoned in the struggle. It was decorated with symbols and lines of varying colours, with a bear paw carved at it’s peak.
This was the tent of Akamito Palehide, Storyteller and caller of the moot that had just the evening before caused so much ruckus and lead to the death of one of it’s attendees. Now, the pale one was nowhere to be seen and his small band of followers no longer of this world.
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