The great chieftain's tomb reeks of death. Not the ancient death of the chieftain himself, but recent death —

The great chieftain's tomb reeks of death. Not the ancient death of the chieftain himself, but recent death — dismembered bodies are scattered around the room, the blood staining and pooling on the floor. You barely even recognize the remains as human — they were once members of the Tiger Lords, the barbarians who followed their leader to this tomb, only to fall by his hand. Armag himself stands in the center of the room, clenching a bloodstained sword. He breathes heavily, like a hunted animal, his eyes wild and aimless. His voice is hoarse as he shouts at a slim woman in a gray cloak in short, abrupt phrases. The woman's yellow eyes are fearless as she watches the chieftain through the holes in the veil that covers her face.