Darius stepped forward, addressing the crowd rather than Roshan.
Smart.
Playing to public opinion.
"I was protecting tribal interests," he said, voice strong and confident. "The blessed one has been making decisions that benefit PANTHERS." He spat the word like poison. "She plans to share our knowledge, our advantages, our resources with our rivals."
He pointed at Nyx.
"That panther stands beside our chief. In OUR territory. At OUR gathering. Because the blessed one has made it so."
Some heads nodded.
Agreement.
Suspicion.
Tribal loyalty running deep.
"And she carries items that don't belong here." Darius's finger swung to point at Faelyn's satchel. "Strange objects. Impossible craftsmanship. Tools and devices no blessed one should possess. I was investigating. Protecting the tribe from potential deception."
[Ooh, he's good. Evil, but good.]
'Not helping, Puffball.'
"You call threatening her 'investigating'?" Roshan's voice was ice.
