Agathyrsos, the Great Archon of the Lugian Federation of the three tribes... The celtic Omanii, the sarmatian Didunii and the germanic Burii, sits on the ancient wooden throne of his ancestors, carved out from a single twisted root of and old oak tree, that was believed to be sacred and magic, because it was planted by the Goddess Druantia herself in the Old Days of the Beginning.
Just a few warriors were in the Great Hall, the Gods didn't looked to kindly on those tribes latelly.
"But this must change..." Agathyrsos thought...
A carnyx sounds from the Guard tower of the gates...
- A messenger Archon... From the King of Carthago...
Agathyrsos read the letter, written on a piece of soft leather than turns towards the messenger.
- You will give your king my greetings, and you will tell him that the Federation of Lugian Tribes will allways wellcome peace and friendship.
As a sign of our respect, we will send to your king this drinking auroch horn, decorated with silver and amber. I have it's pair here... May Gods give him a long and prosperous life and many victories against his enemies... Anytime I will drink from this horn I will drink in his honor.
I will order to my scribes to write a response letter on a piece of the finest mountain goat leather. Go rest now. Our warriors will escort you trough the barbarian lands tommorow.