The Broken Horn Tribe

Day 11 of the 12th Month, Year 31

Today I gathered the tribe for a hunt into Stormheim to replenish our dwindling stocks. We mounted up fairly quickly and ventured from our perch on the side of one of Highmountain's mountains and went down into Stormheim. It is a beautiful place marred by harsh and bad memories of our times in Hyrdshal, events I'd soon rather forget than remember. But today wasn't a time for me to be lost in the past. I must focus on feeding my people.


As we journeyed into Stormheim, we came across what seemed to be a sizable herd of what the natives call "Runehorn" yaks. The bull of the group was more than willing to defended his herd and soon charged our hunting party. We engaged the herd, and injured them enough to cause them to turn tail and retreat. We soon followed after, not allowing our game to get away.


Soon enough, we chased the herd of Runehorn down further into Stormheim, where the bull took his last stand along with those who would fight in his herd. In a way, I connected with the bull. He was exactly like me in every way there was, even to the point of giving his own life to preserve those of his family. I would do much the same for mine if it came to it, and without a moment's notice. However, the bull's end came sooner than mine, and he soon fell, giving his death call. The area grew silent, save for the patter of rain on foliage and armor. I said a mental prayer to the Earth Mother for the bounty she gave us, and a word of thanks to the bull for giving his body to feed mine.


We spent a few moments procuring our game and tying them to our mounts to carry them home. However it seemed that the Runehorn were not all that was in store for our tribe. Varooc, our tribe's Spiritwalker, sensed something ominous on the winds before I did and it seemed his feelings was right. Out of the brush jumped several Vykrul, their faces painted for war and armed with weapons. Left with no choice but to defend ourselves, we engaged. As the Earth Mother would have it, we thankfully defeated the Vykrul group, leaving one alive. He attempted to sound a horn to call for reinforcements, and thankfully only got half a call out before Sotari silenced him. Unconscious, he was placed on the back of my Kodo and with sister Sotari behind me, I called for a retreat to Spiritwatch Post.


Once we arrived, we could hear a call of a large dragon, thankfully we had avoided having to fight. However, we had injured to attend to, and they mattered before the game or our prisoner. As I worked on my sister, I heard the Vykrul behind us wake. Angered, I stood, grabbing an axe from my tribe brother, I hit the Vykrul hard enough to knock him unconscious to drag him into the cave. Not too many were happy with how I treated him, but they do not understand what we faced as their guests. What I did to this Dyrin Stormhammer was miles kinder than his people did to me and my own. At the behest of Cataharon, I left the Vykrul alone and left the cave as I could not stomach being there any longer. It's time to prepare to defend my people.

Day 18 of the 12th Month, Year 31

The day has come, I feel it in my bones. The camp is eerily silent, save for the sounds of my people preparing themselves for battle, and their quiet, nervous chatter. As I strap on my father's armor, and sling the ancient shield of my ancestors across my back, I cannot help but be afraid. I know the possibilities that walk with battle, and I know that there is a chance for some of us to not survive. I close my eyes and say a silent prayer to the Earth Mother and the Sky Father for my tribe, asking for strength, for wisdom, and that we survive the coming battle. Opening my eyes, I give a soft sigh and turn to look at my life mate to be, Baradi. The look on her face expresses my feelings well, and I offer an honest attempt at a comforting smile, which she returns, halfheartedly. She knows what is coming, and I cannot fault her for being afraid. Kissing her on the cheek, I offer some words of encouragement before turning to leave our tent.

The feeling outside of the camp is stronger than it was inside my tent. My people look grim, determined, and mentally prepared. Some pray to the Earth Mother, some focus on preparing their own bodies, but instead of filling me with despair, it fills me with hope. My people are strong, they will not fail and they will not lose this camp to our enemies. With a huff and a soft inhale, I change the look on my face to one of pure determination. My people need someone to look up to, and they will have their Chieftain. They will need the encouragement.

The calm before the storm was soon shattered as one of our braves, Ohanjo Ragetotem came rushing from his usual post near the cliff's edge overlooking Hrydshal, screaming that they were coming and to ready ourselves. Not long after the bull appeared, a thunderous roar split the Earth. They had come, and they were riding on the back of several Storm Drakes. With a loud shout, I called my people to battle, but before we could reach the weapons to shoot them from the sky, their leader touched down, smashing our forge. His drake roared at us in anger, and he looked down at us and ordered us to bring the prisoner we had to him. With a nod, Varooc entered into the cave and returned with our prisoner and before we could react, the Jarl's dragon snapped it's jaws and devoured the young Vykrul, throwing his remains off the cliff. The Jarl snorted his laughter and blew a horn, signalling the attack on our camp.

The attack was long and difficult, with us facing several drakes and riders. Eventually we fought them off and ended up facing their Jarl himself. The Vykrul couldn't have been very old, and he fought with the fury of the dragons they rode, but in the end, he could not withstand our might. As I watched his drake carry him off into the distance I could not help but feel this would not be the last time I'd see him.

Day 25 of the 12th Month, Year 31

They came again today, the Vykrul and this time they brought their Legion overlords. For several days after the first time we defeated them, our braves reported several flashes of green magic in the distance. We knew they consorted with the Legion the first time they attacked us, and this time they would show us the truth. We prepared several defenses this time, and the Jarl would not easily leave.

They came again much like the last time, the Vykrul on dragons from the south and their Legion allies from the north. We fought as hard as we could, bringing down their Storm Drakes and killing their riders. Kanama even shot the Jarl down and we engaged him. Wearing the Jarl down, Mokkel eventually killed with a burst of energy, burning the man to a charred corpse. With our enemy broken before us, we turned our attention to the Legion who assaulted us from the front.

I ordered those who were injured to seek medical attention before joining those who defended the camp from the Legion. Once we arrived, the Legion's assault renewed and with all the strength we could muster, we fought back until they became too much and with an order to blow the hidden explosives on the side of the pass, we cut the Legion off from our camp.

The battlefield calmed shortly after, but was soon ended as their leader leapt over the rubble and engaged our tribe and its allies in battle. The battle was a long and hard one and we fought as hard as we could. In the end, I was able to kill the Doomguard, and end the onslaught upon my people and our camp. With a heavy sigh, our long war with the Vykrul came to an end and our destroyed camp was silent once again.