The moment your voice cracks across the training yard, everything stops.
Every ogre straightens.
Every druid lowers their staff.
Every Harper steps from the shadows.
Minthara watches with a proud, knowing smirk.
Shadowheart stands with quiet reverence, hand over her heart.
And Jaheira—
Jaheira, seasoned, scarred, unshakable Jaheira—
steps forward into the center of the tribe.
She didn't expect this.
She didn't ask for it.
But destiny has a way of choosing those who least desire power…
and most deserve it.
"Tonight is a celebration to honor her."
Your voice echoes like warm thunder across the grounds.
The bonfires around the camp crackle louder, as if leaning in to hear you speak.
The tribe parts, forming a circle around you and Jaheira.
She meets your gaze — a mixture of shock, pride, and something like deep gratitude.
But she holds herself with the same discipline and dignity she has carried her entire life.
She always does.
You remove the Chieftain's Cape
A sacred piece of your authority.
Made from the hide of a basilisk.
Trimmed with golden dragon-thread gifted by Arcaeon himself.
Marked with the sigil of the Snake Tribe.
Gasps move through the watchers like wind through tall grass.
This is not just an honor.
This is trust.
Family.
Legacy.
You place the cape around her shoulders
Jaheira stiffens as the fabric settles on her — not from fear, but from a weight she feels all the way down into her bones.
The tribe watches in utter silence.
The flicker of firelight dances across her face.
Even Minthara's expression softens — a rare thing, and a sign of respect only few ever earn.
Shadowheart bows her head, giving Jaheira the respect of a queen to a general.
Jaheira Slowly Kneels
She does not kneel easily.
She is not a woman who bows.
But tonight, she kneels not in submission —
but in acceptance of the honor you have given her.
"Warchief…" she says, her voice low, steady.
"…this is more than I deserve."
Her eyes shine — not with tears, but with something fiercer:
conviction.
"I will defend the Snake Tribe as though every warrior here were my own child.
I will train them harder than I trained the Harpers.
I will lead them with wisdom older than any cape."
She looks up at you, steady.
"You have my life… and through me, my children shall have a home."
The Tribe ERUPTS
Ogres slam their weapons into the earth.
Druids summon small sparks of moonlight.
Minthara lifts her sword in salute.
Myconids release spores that glow like stars.
Shadowheart steps forward and places her hand on Jaheira's newly capped shoulder.
"You always were a leader," she whispers.
"This cape just makes it official."
And the tiefling girl from before runs up, eyes wide, tail flicking, shouting:
"THREE CHEERS FOR THE GENERAL OF THE SNAKE TRIBE!"
Jaheira rises — The Cape swirling behind her like destiny made manifest
She looks magnificent.
Majestic.
Terrifying.
Motherly.
Warborn.
Every part of her history —
Harper scout, Druid protector, warden of Baldur's Gate, survivor of loss —
all of it suddenly fits into place.
Tonight, the Snake Tribe gains not just a general…
but a legend.