[centre][h1]The Wuhdige Tribe[/h1][/centre]

“The Elus have settled here.”

Duhwah pointed at an encircled spot on a crude map painted on a dry wolf skin. Jotokan rubbed away some of the warpaints on his face in thought, inciting a frustrated groan from Aloo who had drawn it. The chieftain looked up at the champion with a furrowed brow.

“That’s pretty far from the ol’ Julu camp… Ya sure they’re that far away from Hohm?”

Duhwah gave his younger brother Dohn a look and the younger brother passed a nod back. “Yeah,” Duhwah affirmed. “Every time we’ve gone to fetch bluestone, they’ve always attacked from the south - Dohn here did some checkin’ up and found a small camp in a small crag by the beach.”

Jotokan pursed his lips and nodded. “Did they see ya, Dohn? And did ya see if they had anyone standing guard? Egii or Egoo?”

Dohn shook his head. “Nah, chief - ain’t seen none’a them. Don’t think they saw me either, though. Was pretty well hidden.”

Jotokan nodded and clapped him proudly on the shoulder. “Aight, boys - tonight’s the night. Eel ‘n his brothers have stolen their last bluestone. We’re goin’ over to their camp and we’re gunna make them stop for good.”

The twenty-five selka present all raised their spears into the air and sounded a thunderous, “YEAH!”

It had been another six months since Lugo’s visit to the Wuhdige; a prosperous year had passed and unveiled a growing infection in the wound that was the Elu family’s relationship with the rest of the tribe. After their departure from the Home Cave settlement, which the chieftain had decided to rename Hohm for simplicity’s sake, a long time had passed without any sort of contact - the Julus had not exactly been keen on it, after all, and Jotokan had conveniently also quite felt like postponing the meeting. Still, it had to be done, and as relationships soured further and further due to the increasingly bolder raids by Egii, Egoo and the other Elu hunters, the task had only necessitated greater and greater preparations. Finally, however, they were ready - with twenty-five strong, all painted with red handprints on their faces over the eyes, on the pectorals and on the biceps to honour Killon the Red, and with spears pointed with deer bones, they were fully prepared. Each would bring along a pack of fired fish and some pears and apples as to not go hungry. Anything beyond the ration, however, would have to be hunted personally.

Jotokan felt a nervous itch pester his gut. He would be the first Wuhdige chieftain to lead a band explicitly to police one of his fellow clans - a proud clan from which his very wife descended. No mistakes could be made - the spears would merely be for show, yes. No, no Wuhdige blood would be spilled today. 

With some kisses of farewell from their families, the twenty-five selka set off on a disorganised march into the dark of night. The walk to the old Julu camp was long - nearly a day long, even for a fast walker, and the Elus were even further away. The thought of a long march drilled at Jotokan’s motivation, but he would be the last to snow it externally. As the body paint dried out, the band took to the sea water to give their aching feet some rest. Making certain to remain within the cover of night or underwater, they swam as a pack of sea lions, scanning the beach for prey. 

As dawn of the second day approached, Dohn quickly dove underneath, followed by the rest. Under water, he signed a signal they all knew - fire. Jotokan peeked over the surface; indeed, an orange blink flickered on the beach and as Heliopolis cast its rays onto the white sands, its shadows painted a crag in the cliff - fitting Dohn’s description perfectly. 

The chieftain and the champion brought the warriors onto land - they all made themselves as small as possible as they snuck into the cover the beach-side forest once more. As they inched ever closer to the camp, it became clear that the Elu either didn’t have the capacity or the foresight to post guards. The dawnlight was drastically shortening their time - soon, any glance in their direction could unveil their approach. Luckily, though, it seemed that the Elu had yet to wake up. Although, come to think of it, their camp was awfully quiet. 

“WAAAAAAAAAAGH!” 

Jotokan and the others rubbernecked towards the hillside, where a band of thirty selka armed with wooden clubs and sharpened sticks came charging down towards them. In the front were Egii and Egoo, flanked by two other males that were complete strangers to Jotokan. The chieftain was stunned at the frightening display of their ferocious charge, their bluestone-painted faces glistening in the morning light.

“Joto! Joto!” 

The chieftain turned to face Duhwah, who grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. “What do we do?!”

Jotokan blinked and swallowed - the charge was but a hundred metres or so away now. It was clear that they had no peaceful intent in mind - their force outnumbered them by five and their war cries and banging of weaponry against the ground and trees displayed no other message than bloodlust. While he had promised himself that they would return home with clean spears, it was evident that the situation necessitated otherwise.

“Wuhdige! Ready your spears!”

The warriors all gulped and swallowed collectively as they held their spears out front in a shoddy phalanx. The foe charged all the same - in fact, it seemed as though the phalanx egged them on. The Wuhdige spears were better - longer, sharper. Still, Jotokan knew the Spirit Birds would come for a number of them. He tightened the fists around his spear and looked to his brother Joku, his cousin Toko, the champion Duhwah and his brother Dohn. They were all mighty warriors - perhaps the mightiest in the whole tribe. Still, could four great warriors plus twenty militia stand against thirty charging wildmen?

The force descended upon them. With Egii, Egoo and the two strangers leading ahead, they pierced the Wuhdige line at its centre. The line broke momentarily, but the Wuhdige pushed back. One of the strangers took a spear to the stomach and fell over dead on the spot, but his killer was immediately slaughtered by the other stranger, his eyes filled with a fury that only a brother bereaved of a brother could show. In a strange accent, he spoke, “Ye slaughtered me kin - now ye’ll all hang from the pikes!”

Duhwah shoved Jotokan behind him and deflected two incoming strikes from Egii and Egoo, both seemingly determined to end the chieftain’s rule for good. The champion thrusted, scraping up Egoo’s flank with the sharpened edge of his spear. Egoo whimpered and staggered back a little to clutch his bloody side - meanwhile, Egii seized an opportunity. The large selka jabbed the butt of his spear into Duhwah’s face, breaking the champion’s nose. Duhwah groaned sharply and retaliated with another thrust, but Egii dodged. 

Duhwah thrusted again; Egii dodged.

Again - a dodge.

The champion grew furious. With a raging roar, he switched his grip into underhand and sent his spear like a harpoon straight into Egii’s chest. The tip exited on the opposite side, but Egii hadn’t fallen. He coughed up a bile of blood and phlegm, grinning wickedly at Duhwah. The champion frowned at him in furious curiousity.

“What?!”

Egii collapsed to the ground, coughed a weak laugh and pointed over Duhwah’s shoulder with a shaking finger. The champion followed the finger and turned, his skin whitening as he did.

There, not too far from where he had shoved him, Jotokan laid slain by Egoo and the stranger.

[hr]

Duhwah did not want to recall the rest of the battle. They had lost utterly. Seeing the chieftain fall had broken morale completely, and the rout had cost them the rest of the force with the exception of himself, Dohn, Julo, Joku and Toko. The others were either dead, dying or had fled too far for them to see.

The pursuers had let them go after half a day’s chase through the woods and hills; still, Duhwah was certain that they were being followed. Currently, however, that was not weighing as heavily on his heart as it should - no, his heart had become a void of guilt and shame. A champion’s prime purpose is to defend the chieftain, and he had become the first one to fail. Not in an accidental way, either - he had failed because of his own temperament and stupidity. For a chance at Egii’s life, he had turned away from his mission and chased the foe into the heat of battle, leaving his leader - his friend - to die at the hands of assassins. He was a disgrace.

“Duh.”

Duhwah looked up with somber eyes. Ahead of them, the camp of Hohm made its presence clear with thick columns of smoke and numerous approaching selka. As the masses inched closer, cries for aid and whimpering made it clear that many could draw the correct conclusion of the battle. Duhwah scratched some dry blood out of his fur, and even as the selka surrounded him and the other survivors, he did not lift his eyes from the ground as he paced ever closer to the waiting, weeping family of the late chieftain.

Selenu inched closer, put a hand on Duhwah’s shoulder and sniffed. “D-Duhwah… Did… Did Jotty make it?”

The champion stopped in front of her and the children and fell to his knees, head shaking slowly. As he suppressed a whimper, he spoke a simple, somber, “no”. 

Selenu sucked in a hacking gasp. Kulee leaned into her mother’s side and wailed, while Aloo and Tokkan made hard, futile attempts at locking their tears inside. Duhwah remained on the ground before them, not saying a single word. Around them, the rest of the tribe broke into wails and howls at the loss of their fathers, husbands, brothers and sons. 

With glistening lines running down his cheeks, Aloo demanded with grit teeth: “Duhwah - who did it?”

The champion still didn’t raise his head. Instead, he shook it one more time. “It would do you no good to know, son - trust me, rage is a bad thing, and not one you want controlling you.”

He sucked in a breath. “We must ready up now… The Elu could attack any day.” He rose to his feet. “The Elu have new friends - we thought we would be double their men, but they overpowered us with more than we had. They’ve gotten in contact with another tribe - one that isn’t Wuhdige.”

The crowd gasped and looked at one another. It was true - the Elu had only been about ten males when they left. For them to be thirty, they would have needed a powerful ally. Frightened chatter broke out among the selka, speculations and conspiracies filling the air. Duhwah thundered, “Shut your yaps! We don’t need to start a hunt just to know who dunnit. All we gotta know is that they are many and that they are dangerous. We gotta ready the camp for an attack.”

The selka blinked at him. “How do we do that?”

Duhwah sucked in a breath. He took his spear and looked to the direction they had some from. Then, he stuck the butt end in the sand so the spear pointed in that direction at an angle. He then pointed to the spear and said, “Surround the camp with pointy sticks and stuff like this - then make chimes from fish and dog bones and hang them on sinew around this here barrier. Every night, we gotta have guards and stuff. No foragin’ at night, either - all that stuff happens during the day.”

“But how will we catch fireflies, then?” came a complaint from the back.

“Don’t! We gotta defend ourselves now,” the champion declared. He looked around. With a loss of nineteen powerful males, the Wuhdige had been severely weakened.

“We lack the men now, but we gotta do what we can to--”

“I can fix that!”

A muscular woman broke through the crowd into the centre, flanked on the right by a smaller male. Duhwah snorted a disapproving huff of hot air, for he recognised her perfectly. Before them stood Woi’e, the only female family head in the Wuhdige, flanked by her young son Owo. The Woiwoi head crossed her broad arms over a broader chest and gave Duhwah a stern look. “After all, not only men can fight.”

Duhwah grunted. “The tribe will need the females to make and raise the pups. I won’t allow i--”

“But you ain’t chief, is ya?” Woi’e retorted and nodded at Aloo who shrunk. “Jotokan’s oldest boy is.”

Duhwah rubbernecked to look at Aloo. He felt a pitying sensation well up in his chest. Aloo was just old enough, and that was the issue - they could only replace him if he seemed unfit, but Aloo had never done anything to indicate such, and the rules dictated that the champion could not lead unless the chieftain was either dead without an heir or unfit to lead. Duhwah prayed for a second that Aloo would step down - pass his title on to one of his uncles, Joku or Toko.

Instead, however, Aloo slowly straightened himself back up. The afternoon heliopolis cast a red twilight shadow over the youngling’s torso. The boy gave Woi’e a stern nod and then turned to Duhwah. “Duh, we will need all we can get. If Woi’e says she can make the females into warriors, we could get double, no, triple the strength of the Elu. We could crush them!”

Duhwah recoiled at the diction. “Boy, don’t wanna think like that…”

Aloo looked back with raging eyes. “We will beat them down and make them pay, Duhwah. They took our chief, my pa, and so many other good pas and boys!” Woi’e grinned and went over to lift Aloo onto her shoulder. From there, the new chieftain shouted, “We will make them pay!”

The vengeful cheers sounded, and with them, Duhwah swallowed a painful clump of regret. The Wuhdige would prepare themselves for war - and he was not certain it was one they could win.

[hider=Summary!]
The Wuhdige decide to finally deal with the Elu raids. They paint themselves with warpaint and get some bone spears and lock down the Elu camp’s location. The war party numbers 25 lads, all fully equipped with spears and rations to last the march. They get there through a mix of sneaking, walking and swimming, and when they arrive around dawn, they notice that the Elu aren’t home.

However, as soon as they do, they are ambushed from the hills by a force numbering 30, over twice as many as they thought they would fight. The bulk of the forces are all strangers, meaning they’re from a foreign tribe. The Wuhdige are initially stunned by the shock, but form a phalanx and stop the charge somewhat. However, after the strangers’ leader’s brother dies, the leader goes berserk. Duhwah pushes Jotokan back to protect him, but is egged away by Egii, who keeps dodging Duhwah’s strikes. Finally angry enough, Duhwah kills Egii with a powerful spear throw, but Egii laughs his dying laugh and points over Duhwah’s back. There, behind him, the stranger and Egoo, Egii’s brother, have killed Jotokan.

Duhwah, Julo, Joku, Toko and Dohn are the only known survivors. They return to the Wuhdige camp to an ocean of tears and crying. Duhwah sets the camp to making defenses and says they won’t have the men to defend against an attack. This is when Woi’e, family head of the Woiwoi and the only female leader in the tribe, suggests training women to be warriors. Duhwah is against it, but Woi’e informs him that Aloo is chieftain per the rules of succession. Aloo, fueled up on vengeance after the death of his father, allows it and promises the Wuhdige that the Elu will pay. Thus, the scene closes with preparations for a defense and new warriors in training.

[/hider]