Mama Rapi’gog stood in the tavern waiting. She tried to hide her anxiety. She put out word to the other tribes whom lost conscripts to meet her here to plan. Her scouts reported the defenses and the tribes taken. This may be her only chance to save her son. She pulled out an ornate bone knife and jabbed it into the table, she looked to the bar tender, “It be yours if I drink my fill tonight.”
The bar tender nodded and slid her a tall mug of an unknown brew.
((OOC: Right now this thread is only open to tribes who lost tribesmen))