The mountain army has been here for a week, and they are growing increasingly restless. Magnar of Red The Smith Toruin, son of Garth, is increasingly vocal in his concerns.
Aermir left Ulf as chief, and he struggled to control them. As tensions between the Mountain Clans reached a boiling point, Magnar the Red The Smith stood at the forefront of the opposition. He paced back and forth in his makeshift council tent, hidden by bushes and branches and invisible from above, his brow furrowed and his face filled with frustration.
"We've been sitting here too long, Ulf," Toruin roared, his voice echoing against the canvas wall. "Our warriors crave glory, and right before us lies a fat pig waiting to be slaughtered, completely unaware of our presence. It lies there, ready to be devoured. With each passing day, our chances of being discovered increase. We must act."
Ulf stood on the high ground, but was clearly uneasy. He met Toruin's gaze with a resolute look. "I understand your concerns, Toruin," he replied. "But without the Druid's guidance, we cannot act. In his absence, he entrusted leadership to me, and I will not disobey his orders."
He rose from his seat, looking each chieftain in the eye, and continued, "Thanks to his leadership, we achieved our first real victory against the Vale Peoples. We must continue to obey his commands. The Druid way is the way of victory."
Several other chieftains murmured their agreement with Ulf, but some others agreed with Toruin, their impatience evident. One of them, a burly warrior Rolf, stepped forward, his voice loud and frustrated. "We've come all this way, not to sit and wait for some wizard to tell us what to do," he declared, clenching his fists.
Before Ulf could react, Rolf punched him to the ground. "We may be free mountain people, but if any of you disrespects Druid again, I'll cut off your tongues and stuff them into your hands."
After a heated discussion, the scene began to calm down. Ulf raised a hand, attempting to quell the escalating unrest. He insisted, " The Druid has always sought the best interests of our people. We must trust in his wisdom and await his return."
But Toruin wasn't so easily swayed. "I won't let this opportunity slip by. We might lose our advantage while we wait for the great savior," he retorted, his voice rising with anger. "We need to take action ourselves. We, the Red Smiths, will attack Strongsong. Who dares to stand with us and claim glory?"
The words had barely left his lips when the atmosphere in the tent tensed instantly. The two factions clashed, neither willing to back down in the face of their convictions. Judging from Ulf's expression, he was clearly on the verge of exploding with rage. He gritted his teeth as he asked, "Chief Toruin, do you understand what you're saying?"
Ulf slammed his fist on the table. "Are you some hidden Vale spies among us, or a mountain warrior? How can you do this while wearing the armor he gave us and using the weapons he provided?" Ulf continued, his anger blazing. "... Or are you a beast that bites?"
Turin marched towards Ulf, and battle was imminent. Some warriors and chieftains tried to intervene and stop them. Turin shouted, "Have you no longer been chieftains of the Moon Brothers, but have become lackeys of the Druid? We listen to him, but we don't serve him. If your father saw you like this, he would be turning in his grave."
Ulf said with disgust, "Unlike you, a curser, we Moon Brothers can distinguish between gratitude and enslavement."
Ulf's face was filled with pride as he continued, "Even if we serve the Druid, it is our pride, not our shame. You made a promise in the Moonlight Pact, and if you disobey its orders, you will break your promise! I, Ulf, son of Umma, leader of the Moonlight Brothers, challenge you to a duel. Let the Old Gods decide who is righteous and who is evil!"
Their massive axes gleamed in the sunlight, and their magical armor clanged with every step they took. With a roar, Toruin swung his axe in a broad arc, aiming for Ulf's midsection. Ulf raised his own axe just in time, and the clang of metal echoed throughout the camp as their axes clashed with tremendous force. Both warriors used the same magical armor and axes, so the outcome would depend on who was more skilled.
Ulf swiftly countered, targeting Toruin's exposed flank. Toruin deftly dodged the attack, his movements surprisingly agile. He countered with a rapid series of attacks, each striking Ulf's defenses with pinpoint accuracy.
But Ulf was no ordinary opponent. He deftly twisted his body, easily deflecting Toruin's attacks; despite the heavy armor, his movements were fluid and graceful. With a resolute roar, he launched his counterattack, forcing Toruin back with relentless blows.
The two warriors cautiously maneuvered against each other, searching for an opening. Toruin charged forward, his axe swinging down like a charging bull. But Ulf was prepared; years of combat experience had honed his senses. He swiftly dodged the blow and countered powerfully with the saddle of his axe.
Toruin successfully used his axe as a shield to block the attack. The sound of the impact echoed through the air, as if a shockwave were rippling across the field. When the two magical weapons clashed, those watching had to close their ears, for it was a thunderous sound.
Toruin staggered backward, his hand gripping the axe trembling for a moment. Ulf seized the opportunity, pressing his advantage, his axe whistling through the air as he launched a series of attacks on his opponent.
Ulf struck with all his might, aiming at Toruin's weapon arm. But Toruin wasn't born yesterday; he had anticipated this. He rolled away to dodge the attack and tripped Ulf with the tip of the axe handle.
Ulf, tripped and unable to control his momentum, fell to the ground. Toruin gave him no chance to catch his breath, and began swinging his axe at him. Seeing the attack, Ulf rolled on the ground like a log, trying to create distance from Toruin. As the axe drew closer, he changed tactics, successfully blocking Toruin's axe with the handle and using the whiskers to pull the axe aside, trapping it.
With practiced agility, Ulf first kicked Toruin in the knee, forcing him to his knees, then kicked his helmet, causing him to stagger backward and giving Ulf enough time to get up. Ulf managed to stand up and began a rapid series of attacks, while simultaneously swinging his great axe in quick circles above his head.
Toruin tried to block the attacks with his axe, but he wasn't fast enough. Some of the blows struck his body, causing him the pain of blunt force. If it weren't for the durable magical armor Aermir was wearing, he would have been dead long ago.
Seeing that he was about to lose, Ulf once again used the axe whiskers to trap Toruin's axe. Toruin tried to regain the rhythm of the fight, but it was too late. Ulf first headbutted him, which stunned him for a second. Ulf then struck Toruin's hand with the hammer at the end of his axe.
The immense impact sent Toruin's axe flying from his hand, landing with a clatter a few steps away. Toruin staggered backward, a powerful kick striking him squarely in the chest, sending him flying several meters. Ulf stood up victoriously, his chest heaving from the force of the blow, but his eyes were filled with pride.