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Once he’d ceased his shouting and screaming, Harlwarn dropped to the floor of the tent, his fur-clad body cold and umoving. 

“Feed him to the dogs,” Khalaevna croaked drowsily to her pages as she pulled herself up into a sitting position, her eyes still hazy with sleep “Discretely. I don’t want an incident.” 

Two well-built servants dragged the Frost-treader’s haggard corpse out into the snow, his wolf pelt cloak draping limply behind him as he vanished through the tent flaps. 

“Harlwarn might have been witless, but he wasn’t delusional,” the Over-Tyrant mutter, as she heaved her massive bulk out of bed, her pale flesh shuddering and wobbling as her feet hit the ground “Summon the chieftain's.” She commanded one of her pages “Whilst the rest of you help me wash and dress.” 

A huge wooden tub was filled with steaming water from the nearby hot springs, whilst cleaning salts from the Soap-makers guilds of old Thalzamaria were prepared. The Over-Tyrant plopped her huge form into the tub, causing a wave of sizzling water to spill over one side, as a handful of pages set about washing and scrubbing her naked body. 

The hierarchy of the Kingdoms of Mourslev was a delicate thing, built to entertain the many wants and desires of its gluttonous people. Technically, each chief was given free rule over their own “kingdom”, and was allowed to enforce whatever rules and customs they wished; just so long as they fell in line with Khalaevna’s own ambitions. Anyone not adhering the the Trade Queen’s laws was branded as a traitor, and an enemy of everything the people of Mourslev stood for. The Over-Tyrant didn’t care what religions her people practiced, but it seemed that the faith of Mortaroth seemed to be sweeping through the clans, something which she’d no doubt have to address soon. 

Once Khalaevna was dressed she emerged, dripping with warm water, from the tub, and was quickly dried off by a cluster of pages with thick sheets of cloth. She was dressed in a plain white tunic, which failed to cover the bulge of her gargantuan stomach, worn beneath a flowing coat of crimson silk, inlaid with gold. They squeezed her into a pair of dark black trousers and boots, with a sturdy leather belt with a fist-sized gold clasp slung around her broad waist. The piercings and jewelry were piled on, whilst makeup made from crushed black powder was painted beneath her eyes. 

By the time the Chieftains arrived, Khalaevna was seated on the tent floor, with a stream of rich foods spread out in front of her. 

“Greetings, my lords and ladies,” she gave the new arrivals a quick grin, whilst licking chicken grease off of her hands “Please, take whatever you want!” 

All of the Chieftains understood that if they touched anything within Khalaevna’s immediate area then there’d be hell to pay, and were careful to pick at the dishes a good few feet away from her. 

“It's always an honour to join you, my queen,” said Aureus Icelake, a slender figure, with silvery blonde hair and handsome yet narrow features “to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

“Aye. ‘Owe might we be of service?” grunted Jormut Beastbreaker, a giant man with broad shoulders and a scraggly white beard, as he scratched at his solid arm muscles. 

“The late Harlwarn Frost-Treader informed me of demon’s in the mountain ridges beyond, shortly before his passing,” Khalaevna spoke in a slow, clear voice, making sure that each word was sharp and well-pronounced “and it would be near-impossible to reach Borea undetected, without passing through them.” 

“Gah! Bloody ‘owlers,” Jormut scrunched up his face “they’re a right pain in the arse.” 

“The horrors have been known to clear out entire camps of our fiercest warriors.” Gorah Darktounge nodded in agreement. She was a well-built woman, with hard, masculine features, and a closely-shaven head of ginger stubble. 

“Wasting our clansmen's lives on the demons would be folly.” Khalaevna nodded solemnly, causing her double chin to quiver “Bring me barrels of oil, and wine, and pitch. We’ll light them up from on high, and send them screaming down the mountainside to meet the demons below.”