C750 The Howling Beast Attacked
Before dawn, at around five in the morning, the air was cool, and dewdrops clung to the grass away from the dying embers of the campfire.
The tribe's elders began to stir, waking up and departing the campsite in groups to attend to their bodily needs.
The once lively bonfire had been reduced to smoldering charcoal, radiating a gentle warmth across the scorched earth. One barbarian, unaware
