"Hmph! So you have come, Brann." Harold, the Chieftain of the Ashclaw Tribe, crossed his arms over his chest. "So what are you doing here? Did you change your mind? You finally want to join the raid?"
"That's not what I'm here for," Brann replied before turning to look at the young man beside Harold. "Greetings, Lord Travis."
"Ah, so it's you, Brann." Travis nodded. "I had planned to pay you a visit on my way to Grimjaw Mountain. Anyway, why are you here alone? Where are your men? Are you not planning to join in on the fun?"
"Since the Young Lord is already here, there's no need for me to bring my warriors." Brann smiled faintly. "With the might of the Darkmane Tribe and the middle-ranked tribes, the battle is as good as over. There's no way a low-ranked tribe can win against this army."
