Brule takes a deep breath, blows out his fire-red moustaches and starts marching over the marshy grasses that line the lake shore. It only take about 5 minutes before people can be seen pointing and distant muffled shouts rise from the excited and perhaps confused onlookers. The village gate becomes a buzzing hive of activity as people start to file out onto the causeway that connects the village to the land and a minute or two after that two men on shaggy ponies can be seen galloping towards you with spears tips glinting in the bright spring sunshine.
Brule stops his determined stride and puts his legs about shoulder width apart, holds his shield close to his body and plants the butt of the spear into the soft turf, looking every bit the part of an impassive, defiant sentinel.
A black-bearded man with a conical bronze helm and a shirt of bronze scales arrives first and pulls his horse up to a stop not more than 30 feet from your group, the other man arrives several seconds later and stops a bit furhter off, he is clean-shaved and boyish and is less heavily armored but no less bold.
"Brule?!" The bearded man shouts incredulously, "Have you lost all sense? Turn and run while you still can. In honor of your father, I'll lie and tell Talorc you're simple vagabonds. Uvan's slave Rashid just came back the other day and said you lot had killed all of his men. They're forming a warband to hunt you down."
Brule doesn't immediately reply, nor does he move. Then suddenly, after long tense moment, he rears back and heaves the wolf-spear high into the air so it lands not a dozen feet from the bearded man on horseback, point-down into the soft verge where it quivers. Brule practically snarls, "Druisten, Tell that craven whoreson to come out and face us. This is Dubh Sleagh, the spear of Ulfheonar Wolf-Slayer, which my boon companions and I have recovered and used to slay the Blaidd Mawr and banish him back to Hell." He pauses for effect, "Talorc has betrayed us, committed sins against the gods and must now answer for his crimes; judged by the rightful representative of High Drune Maelgwyn." He points backward to Mab.
The man's eyes go a little wide as he wheels his horse 360 degrees and circles the black spear sticking point-down in the ground. "Maelgwyn? I thought he was dead?" He stops moving for a second and looks Mab up and down and regards him warily. "Very well, but I don't think Talorc is going to like this much." He then lashes his reins and kicks his horse into a gallop and the young man follows after him kicking up large chunks of sod as the go.
Brule walks forward and pulls the spear out of the ground and wipes the mud from the point, before looking at Mab, "Sorry to put you on the spot like that. With any luck we'll get an audience with the Elders now. After that . . . we'll see."
He turns and begins striding toward the gate.