A pretty total victory for option C. The wielder will head a delegation and convince them to join you. (1 A, 1 B, 17 C, 1 D).
On a sidenote, I'm discontinuing immediately the open vote experiment, since you didn't really care for it. Moving on.
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The delegation, made by the Wielder of Fire and a small militia escort left in the early hours of the morning. They went by foot, having the Wielder scoffed at the suggestion of going by boat: 'I do not fear the weak spirits of the water, yet I do not care to travel in their domain' he said.
Several days passed without any news, then one of our boats came back from a fishing expedition saying a small flotilla of canoes and a small crowd of people were seen heading towards our camp. In front of those, the distinctive shape of the Wielder.
The group, about sixty people strong, arrived in the afternoon. The boats were carrying all the smaller tribe's belongings along with their elder and infirm. On foot came their young and strong.
The tribe's chief, a muscular man, came in front of the council to make obeisance:
'Your shaman was very persuasive. We are still reeling from the attack that so devastated our tribe a generation ago. He promised revenge and the means to obtain it... and showed great power in the worship of the spirits of fire. Some of our shamans tried to oppose him but were easily defeated and burned. It is so obvious were the favors of the wraiths lay. We are yours to command, elders.'
The elders were taken aback by this show of submission and welcomed the newcomers to the camp. The next days were spent assigning tasks and shelters to the new arrivals, while keeping an eye on them to ensure everything went smoothly.
As for the Wielder, he spent most of his time with the water shamans from the other tribe's, speaking with them and instructing them in the basic points of fire worship. He was rapidly becoming a respected member of the council and the spiritual leader of our tribe, working his utmost for the betterment of our condition.
It was in those days that one of our water shamans made a very useful discovery: a short distance from our camp, on the shore of the lake, there was a length of shore where the bank was muddy. He observed how the mud dried and hardened during hot days, while becoming malleable again during rainy ones.
Putting his mind to the task, he started making bowls and other small tools of the material. It was a hell of a lot easier than carving them from stone.
Then, a few short, peaceful months later, something we had been afraid of for so long happened. One of our scouting parties on the far side of the river came back carrying several corpses. Most of them were of ours militia. One wasn't.
The man was naked except for a wolfskin wrapped around his body, the wolf's muzzle covering his head. He was grotesquely muscled, extremely dirty and covered in wounds.
The report was brisk and made in worried tones:
'We were ranging on the far side of the river, keeping an eye out on things. Suddenly, from a thicket, we heard a great, bestial howl. Three men came rushing out of there, charging straight at us. We ordered them to stop but were ignored. They kept coming, unbelievably fast and, before we could throw our javelins, they were between us. Three of us were dead in seconds, their throats ripped out by those beasts' teeth. At that point we rallied, still outnumbering them two to one. We started stabbing, lunging, keeping them at bay with the tips of our spears yet they still attacked, oblivious of the grievous wounds they were sustaining. Another of ours went down, his neck snapped like a dry branch, then they finally slowed. One was taken down by a stab to his throat, another had his skull smashed with a rock. The third, bleeding from his arms, legs and torso, suddenly started running away.
One of our militia finally had the chance to toss a javelin, and his shot was true. He ran him through his back, and he collapsed. Before dying, he produced another great, monstrous howl.'
The scout paused, his voice troubled: 'It was answered... from far away, it was answered...'
A. One of the water shamans panicked:
'It's them! They are still here! Thank the spirits our scouts managed to bring back this priceless warning! We should pack immediately and retreat further along the shores of the lake, lest they attack in numbers and slaugher us!'
B. The Wielder of Fire stood up, a red glow very visible in his eyes:
'Let them come. We shall move not a step back. I will teach them the terror only fire can bring, until they will grovel under our feet!'
C. The head of the militia shook his head:
'We know close to nothing about these beastmen. Although it will come at great risk, we must send armed parties to scout further into the forest, to find out at the very least where and when an attack will come from. In the meanwhile, let's craft more weapons and prepare an evacuation plan, if worse comes to worst. We will not be caught unprepared as the tribes of the lake.'
). We have to remove him at the slightest hint where he's trying to do something funny.
I do? Go ahead and quote me on 'instant disaster'. Aww, did you just make that shit up, then? And then went all "I have the right to respond"? Sure, let's move on, cupcake.
