Griz shrugged at the suggestion of what tribe were acting as their aggressors but judging from the report from the hunter that spotted the scouting party, it was very likely the Blue Feet Tribe. The hunter reported the sighting to the North West of the village and noted that they had accessories made from fish bones and shells. Griz guessed that something spooked them off from the river as, even in previous years, the Blue Feet Tribe would have just kept fishing in the river as usual and ignore the other nearby tribes. But their tribe and the Blue Feet Tribe never really got along well as Breden mentioned, so it did not surprise Griz much when the hunter reported the incident.

Their patrol was, thankfully, uneventful for the time being, but Griz kept his guard up. No matter how peaceful it may seem, things could change at a drop of a hat. And nobody knew if or when it would happen. Though that didn't mean he couldn't spare some of his time with some idle chitchat. [color=khaki]"Yeah, the Mountain Tribe's goblins had grey skin but they also had goblins with brown and some even orange. Not only that, they were tougher than any goblin I've ever fought. They weren't very smart but they were stupid strong."[/color] Griz said as he remembered the incident that sparked the conflict. 

One of the tribe's allies, the Hilltop Tribe, had recently been run out of some of their territories by the encroaching Mountian Tribe. The chief didn't want to break a generations-old pact between the two tribes and sent over a hundred goblins as support. The fighting lasted for months but with the combined power of both tribes, they defeated and repelled the Mountain Tribe with acceptable amounts of casualties. Though in Griz's opinion? The death of his mentor and long time friend wasn't an acceptable loss at the time. Though as he got older, he gradually came to terms with his death. But remembering him caused the older hunter to fall silent out of respect and remnants of loss. 

Gurs, on the other hand, clicked his tongue in disinterest from the older goblin's answer to Breden. They didn't sound so tough. Maybe because Griz used that dinky looking dagger instead of something cool and dangerous like his spear, those mountain chumps seemed to be tough. He smiled to himself broadly as he imagined himself felling a huge grey-skinned mountain goblin with a single spear thrust and bathing in the glory that followed. Being hailed as a hero of the tribe, getting the prestige he [i]rightfully[/i] deserved, his choice of any fertile female in the tribe, and being recognized as the next in line of being chief of the tribe.

He was brought back to reality by Rom snatching the goblin away from a tree trunk he was about to walk into while daydreaming. [b]"Gurs, for the Ancestors' sake. Get your head out of the clouds and back on your shoulders."[/b] Just as he finished scolding the young warrior, a looming figure stumbled out of the woods.

[url=https://i.imgur.com/tLJhAEB.png]A massive owlbear plodded slowly into view.[/url] 
It seemed rather old but dangerous nonetheless.