Vilan

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Josh fumbled past the entrance as the drawbridge raised behind them, making a sickly scraping sound as the ropes grinded against the rough bark of severed logs. Guided by the soldiers that strode confidently ahead, they led him through unevenly spaced wooden huts held together by thin woven lengths of twine. As they continuously made their way deeper into the village, members of the native tribe exited their abodes in droves, murmuring as they caught sight of the unknown newcomer. Children ran out from behind the safety of their parents, hoping to catch a glimpse of him as they walked briskly down the unmarked path. Although he was partly the reason for their focus, the majority of their attention was trained mainly on the blade that he held at his side. Unable to sling it over his back due to the torn ropes of his makeshift sheath, Josh had resorted to holding it at his side, making sure the blade was pointed downwards so as to not accidentally hurt someone. With the small procession continuing through the primitive village at a swift pace, various members of the tribe paused their daily routine as the blade, gleaming resplendently in the light, caught their eye. Despite all the attention he was receiving, Josh focused solely on memorizing their route just in case things took a turn for the worst. 

Just as he'd thought their journey to meet the Chief would never end, the crudely built villager houses suddenly opened up into a wide, almost circular space. At its center stood a raised platform, accessible only by delicately carved stone steps. Considering the architecture of the village, Josh surmised that these were probably not erected by the tribesmen themselves and was most likely the remnants of a prior, fallen civilization. Atop the makeshift step pyramid were three figures seated on what appeared to be crudely carved chairs. Amongst the three sat a large man, clad in black furred hides, staring down at the group as they approached. Arriving at what Josh could only assume to be the Chief, the soldiers laid their large spears on the cracked earth beneath their feet as they knelt, heads bowed in a clear sign of reverence. 

"You do not bow before me?" the man asked, as if surprised by his lack of worship. 

Josh stayed silent as he observed the man that had been hailed as their chief. Although large in size, his bald head and greying beard only served to greatly diminish the fierce appearance he'd expected within his mind. His throne, which sat in the middle of two others, was decorated with an assortment of animal pelts and various sizes of bones, protruding from odd angles. At his sides, sat two women a couple years younger, on lesser adorned thrones spaced a few inches apart. Both wore black garbs similar to the Chief's, which clung tightly to their slender, athletic physique. Their long, flowing, jet black hair, partially covered their unsmiling expressions as it caressed their faces gently, hanging loosely across their bosoms. 

"Speak boy!" a guard whispered loudly behind him. 

The Chief, who happened to be within earshot, raised a hand, silencing his guard before he himself spoke, "What are you called?"

"My name's Josh" he responded, trying to keep his voice steady as he spoke. 

"What an odd name!" the man exclaimed in a fit of uncontrolled laughter.

Josh stood in silence until the Chief's laughter subsided. After blinking a few tears of joy over the foreign sounding name, he continued, "So what brings you to our village?" 

"I'm looking for a woman," he said quickly. 

"Never too young to start searching for a wife I suppose," he replied laughing heartily once more. 

"Chief!" one of the guards shouted, interrupting his jubilation, "He seeks the red haired demoness!" 

As the guard spoke up, a murmur ran through the crowd of villagers that had followed close behind them. 

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