Black Tribe of the Talking Skulls

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When you enter the territory of the Talking Skulls it is obvious. Skulls on spikes chatter and bite down as they hang from spear or rope in the trees. The chattering spreads as birds explode up and out of the canopy, the few that chose to reside in such cursed lands. Cadaverous monkies swing slowly through the trees towards the noise and the whole forest become silent save for the biting of teeth slamming down over and over.

The Black Tribe are the tribe of death and their clashes with the Greens and the Reavers are frequent. Seldom is a living Black seen on the field, they are witches that turn the forest to death and everything in their reach becomes their slave. Surrounding themselves in the swarming flies of their servants like fat spiders deep in their webs. In the past, the Green’s glades even suffered assault as hundreds of beasts descended on their verdant bastions. The dead stuck down by hungry root and held back by tightly woven walls of living wood. The Blacks look to softer targets more often, none softer than the Lakemen, who are oddly never taken. So it is the Reavers most often meet the dead in the shadows of the forest, keeping each the other in check, or so the other tribes hope.

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Black Tribe of the Talking Skulls

Lakes of Blood and Ash Nehebkau