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[h1]Sacred Time[/h1]
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A solemn mood set upon the carls and thanes of the Storm Tribe. Sacred time was a time to place their magic into aspects of their tribe, such as crops, herds, war, trade, or diplomacy, but there was little left, the vast majority having been given to Chalana Arroy and Humakt in an attempt to raise dead tribe members. Some returned, most didn't. Orlanth lead the clan in their magical rituals, just as solemn as the rest of the tribe.

Standing upon the roof of a temple dedicated to him, Orlanth watched as the rituals continued, smoke rising into the air as flames consumed magical artifacts in an attempt to bring the tribe more power. The gods had little power here, it was as if they were on the plain of another god, but they had even less power. Orlanth seemed to be the least affected by this, he could bring storms, thunderstones, and make woad, but others hadn't been so lucky.

The loyal guardian Elmal stood at the doorway to this temple, protecting it from intruders or attackers, meanwhile Humakt, Chalana Arroy, and Eurmal all joined in strengthening the clan's magic. Lhankor Mhy and Issaries argued off to one side. A thump alerted Orlanth to the presence of another, seated beside him. The red hair and sky-blue tattoos identified her as Orlanth's daughter, Vinga, goddess of adventurers and female warriors. He had thought of adding her to his command structure, but she was wild and unreliable, no matter how loyal she was to her family.

[color=f26522]"The exploring party and I have returned, we placed border stones a few paces from the river. The Tula is defined now."[/color]

Funny, Orlanth didn't recall sending an exploration party. Nonetheless Orlanth nodded without looking at her, steeling himself in an attempt to prepare for what would be sure to come in the next days. The men had cattle, farmland, and enough silver to last them the year, hopefully they didn't need anything more. He was glad that there were yet to be any Chaos creatures, fighting them would put a damper on the already poor mood.

Rolling his shoulder, Orlanth took to his feet and stepped towards the edge of the building. In a fluid motion, he climbed down. A number of Tribe members spotted him and nodded towards him slowly. They were all tired, very tired, but if all went well they would have a permanent tribal location set by the end of Fire Season. Orlanth aided all he could, but he was restless, a vengeful fury in his heart for those who had been lost.

[color=0072bc]"King Orlanth!"[/color] the skitterish voice of Lhankor Mhy stated over the low hum of the magical ceremonies. [color=0072bc]"We have claimed a Tula, if there are Orlanthi in this world they will have to pay attention to our borders. But first things first, we have little to spare, so perhaps we should attempt to get more cows or silver. Perhaps we could find those who slayed clansmen and demand weregilds?"[/color]

Lhankor Mhy was the greatest lawspeaker in the land, he was a living runestone of Orlanthi laws and was as eloquent as their people got, but here Orlanth knew he was wrong, they had no reason to believe there were Orlanthi in this new realm, so demanding weregild would be foolish. Of course they had few warriors to spare for raids, and there weren't any enemies close enough for a cattle raid to be worthwhile.

Orlanth sighed.

[color=ed1c24]"No, until we have evidence of the presence of other Orlanthi we will simply focus on picking up the pieces. Send the thralls to work and put the Carls to the fields, I'll have Humakt prepare patrols."[/color]

The elderly lawspeaker nodded, writing feverishly into a suddenly-produced scroll. Issaries scoffed in the distance at the man's detailed note-taking. The two seemed conjoined at the hip, but they were almost exact opposites, Issaries was personable but lacked eloquence, whilst Lhankor Mhy was robotic and exceptionally well-spoken. Orlanth snickered, it reminded him of his own relationship with his brothers.

[i]Rulership is tiring, I'd love a nice tankard of ale right about now.[/i] Orlanth mentally whispered as he stood, stoop-shouldered and exhausted. He'd done all he could, perhaps Eurmal would set up a feast. Orlanth's face brightened at the thought. Yes, a feast, with bread, pork, mayhaps a little veal, definitely some ale, Humakt would love some cheese...[/center]