The command rang out sharply in the twilight. "We set up tent here!" one of the guards yelled, driving a stake into the ground.
The Ironwood Clan moved with practiced, efficient speed. Excluding Chieftain Varek, the few remaining elders, and Austin, who stood quietly watching, the entire group dissolved into a whirlwind of activity.
Poles were secured, hides were unfurled, and ropes were tightened with fluid, inherited skill.
It was evident they were nomadic people, the act of setting up camp a routine ingrained in their very muscles from years of necessity.
Within a mere half-hour, a small cluster of temporary, sturdy tents dotted the clearing.
The last light of the day had bled out of the western horizon, and now, high in the star-dusted sky, the Eclipsed Moon—a large, sickly yellow orb with a visible, dark shadow creeping across its surface—cast an eerie, dim glow over the scene.
"Come! You're staying with me."
A voice cut through the clamor of the settling camp.
