The days of winter dragged on, but as the sun began to linger a little longer on the horizon, the tribe knew that soon, the worst of the season would be behind them. However, the deep cold was not the only threat they faced. One evening, as the hunters returned from a long and difficult expedition, they brought troubling news—strangers had been spotted near the edge of the valley.
Jack listened closely as Garrak and the other elders discussed the matter around the fire. He had picked up enough of the tribe's language to understand the warning: another group, likely nomads like themselves, had been seen scouting the area. The expressions of the older warriors were grim. Jack soon learned why. These were not peaceful wanderers—they were members of the Gorr'ka, a rival tribe known for raiding and stealing from weaker groups.
The next morning, Garrak led a scouting party to confirm the reports. Jack insisted on coming along, wanting to prove his loyalty to the tribe. They moved cautiously through the snow-covered forest, tracking the footprints left by the intruders. The prints led them to the edge of a frozen river, where they spotted smoke rising in the distance.
Jack got his first look at the Gorr'ka from their hiding place behind a rocky outcrop. They were fierce-looking people, taller and more heavily built than most in Jack's tribe. Their clothing was adorned with bones and sharp animal fangs, marking them as warriors. Jack could see that they were well-armed, carrying spears tipped with sharpened stone and clubs reinforced with animal hide. Unlike Jack's tribe, who relied on cooperation and careful planning, these men radiated aggression.
Garrak signaled for silence as they observed the rival group. There were perhaps fifteen of them, more than enough to overwhelm the tribe if they attacked. But what disturbed Jack the most was the sight of several carcasses laid out near the fire—animals, yes, but also the remains of what looked disturbingly human. Jack shuddered. This was not just a raiding party. These men were ruthless.
The scouts retreated, returning to the tribe as quickly as possible. That night, an emergency gathering was called. The elders debated fiercely over their next move. Some, like Torrek, argued that they should attack first, striking before the Gorr'ka could gain an advantage. Others, including Garrak, believed that they should fortify their defenses and prepare for the worst.
Jack sat quietly, absorbing the tension in the air. He knew from history that tribal conflicts in the past had often ended in bloodshed. But there was no way to reason with people who saw violence as their way of life. The Gorr'ka would come—it was only a matter of time.
Over the next few days, the tribe worked tirelessly to strengthen their defenses. Spears were sharpened, extra layers of protection were added to their shelters, and sentries were posted at all times. Jack was given his own role—he would help create barricades using fallen trees and sharpened stakes, forming a protective perimeter around the camp.
One evening, as Jack stood guard with Torrek, they heard movement in the darkness. The sound of crunching snow sent a chill down Jack's spine. Torrek raised his spear, eyes scanning the treeline. Then, a shadow moved—a lone figure, watching from a distance. Jack barely had time to register the sight before the figure vanished into the night.
It was a warning. The Gorr'ka were watching.
The first attack would come soon, and Jack knew that their greatest test was yet to come.