You were sitting in your tent, dressing yourself when there was a sound of someone clearing their throat, Chief, we found an outsider near the border. He seems hostile. A voice called through the thin hide of your tent. You finished dressing yourself and grabbed your bow, stepping out of the tent. Bring him to me. You commanded, moving to sit on your makeshift throne.

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He glares up at you, fighting against the men holding him down Who the hell are you? He huffs as you tilt your head and inform him that this is your land. He pushes the men off of him and stands, dusting his cape off. He eyes you up and down, frowning when you ask who he is.