OOC: Sorry for taking a while to make this post, I have been rather busy with real life things. Praise be to the weekend.

The town had been quiet ever since the warriors left. The confederation was announced, days of feasting followed, but then the day of the march came. The warriors were gathered last week, to be given a talk on what was to happen. Men were expected to volunteer to join the search party for the missing hunters, all the men knew without it being said that it was more so a war party than one for searching. Everyone knew that the only direction the hunters would have come from is east, everyone knew that the only direction Toran was heading was east.

It had been a few hours until the party reached where the hunting party was lost, weapons lay on the ground still, scratches against the trees and blood stained the mud. "Those bastards...they slaughtered them" Toran muttered before speaking up "Men! Look here at our feet! There is blood of your brothers! There are the weapons of your friends! The men who did this, they hunted in these woods, our woods, the woods our ancestors died protecting! The woods we still use today to feed our women and children! To heal our fallen brethren from a bad hunt! These men aim to take that from us, for themselves, they kill to do it. The anger of our ancestors will fuel our own, the strength of the oak will power our spears, the love you bare for everyone in the Wulfswood will keep your spirits high. Have no doubt, brave warriors, your brothers will not be avenged by your hands, they will be avenged by your spears!" The huntsmen roared in approval and began pounding their spear shafts against the rocks on the floor creating a makeshift war rhythm. Wulfsbaen looked to his men, looked to their anger, looked to their feeling of grief, he too needed this other clan gone, too many men had been lost, there were very few who starved but with the new hunting parties who knew how many would fall to the harsh winters that were coming.

They'd been on the march for five days now, fifty warriors and the best horseman from the riders, with Toran at the head. The tracks left by the other clan had been covered with a thin layer of leaves, but there were still some that had been useful for hunting down those damned murderers. The men had never been this far east in the wulfswood before, the Aedal clan had once lived here under the guard of clan Wulfsbaen, meaning nobody ever needed to go there, but after the clan fell to fires still unknown to why they came to be there had been nothing in the east. As Toran remembered this past he looked to the trees, many trees had fallen, charred and snapped. It was now known as the Blackwood. The burnt trees seemed to go on for miles, six hours of walking and there were many black logs laying on the floor. Some say that the fire was caused by a crazed hag who tried to burn down a little girl's home and the girl now lived in the burnt woods, hiding in the shadows, haunting the men unfortunate enough to go through the lands. Needless to say, there was a look of pure terror on some of the younger hunters' faces, despite Toran's attempts to enlighten them to the fact spirits do not exist for men, simply the woods.

It was the end of the fifth day, the men had just taken up camp on the other side of the Blackwood, tents sprung up in a circle with a small fire where the men huddled between patrol shifts. Toran was just getting ready to sleep when two of the scouts came scrambling into his tent,

"My chief, we can see the other clan. There's tents, hundreds of them, and fires. The smokes rise to the clouds, it seems they plan on staying here for a while." informed the short man with struggling facial hair, looking on at Toran's blank expression. "Shall we arm the warriors and attack? They seem to have not seen us, we can easily burn that shit hole to the gro..."

"No," Toran said shaking his head lightly. "Get the rider, send him to Wulfsden, get him to send the rest of the riders to the other tribes, I want.... half of all of their soldiers here within the half moon. We'll be giving these bastards the proper Wulfsbaen welcome." The scouts nodded eagerly and tugged out through the tent, the snapping twigs beneath their feet marking their departure. Slightly nodding to himself he got into his pelt sheet and closed his eyes. The trees seemed to not whisper near the Blackwood, the spirits were burnt out of them. This is a dark place, this other clan must be the damned remnants of the Aedals here to punish us for not saving their clansmen from the fires. They'll die in the place their ancestors did at least, the traitors. To this, he fell asleep.