Sunday, November 10, 2013

100 Words a Day 448

They had finished packing their camp and were preparing to make the blood sacrifice. The dogmen gathered round the small alter, kneeling in a semicircle, and the shaman was preparing to speaking.

Suddenly, the shaft of an arrow protruded from his chest. The pack turned as one, seeing the human warband, their metal armor shinning in the sun, descending upon them. The children fled away from the marauders, screaming. The older members of the tribe followed while the warriors formed up and prepared to face the raiders. There were a few steel weapons among them, the rest readied crude spears.

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