The Empire has been pushing into the lands of your people for a while, legions of armour-clad warriors carving roads through the forests and erecting towers that rise high over the landscape. All that have encountered them have died or else fled, seeking ancient strongholds to shelter within. Your tribe, with the Empire getting ever closer, has chosen to make a stand, or at least your priestess has.
In preparation the clan's warriors spare nothing in training the rest, you spend nearly a month falling asleep with aching and worn muscles. It bares fruit though, everyone becomes able to wield a blade with some skill, and the priestess commands that a watch be established.
You are chosen to be part of the watch on the fifth day, you make your way to the border of your clan's territory. A small camp has been made, you plant yourself before scanning the horizon, the hills and distant forest. A glint of light upon metal has you standing, lifting a hand to shade your eyes, and your heart skips a beat as you see a group of soldiers marching in your direction
You're torn between running to the clan to warn them or staying to gather more information. The choice is made for you though, you stagger as an arrow punches into your stomach and drop to your knees as a second thuds into you. You dimly hear the jangle of armour as the soldiers approach at speed, you gaze weakly at them as they enter the camp.
They surround you, you hear them joke among themselves, and then there's the sound of a sword being pulled from its scabbard. You shiver as you feel the sword's tip being placed upon your shoulder, grit your teeth as it's driven down into your chest. You slump onto your side when it's withdrawn, feel blood dampen your hair, and softly groan as you're manipulated onto your back.
The blade comes down again, cuts into your heart. You relax in death, go still, and your eyes gaze skyward, stare past the soldiers as they descend to make use of your body.
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