Cinematic historical fantasy, cold blue twilight with drifting mist, illuminated by the warm crackle of a campfire. Starts with a medium two-shot of two Tellarite warriors sitting on a rocky cliff edge. On the left is Gorg, wearing heavy fur pelts and a chainmail hauberk over his stout frame. His long, grey hair is braided with iron rings, and his massive beard is stained with mud. He is holding a big a battle-axe. On the right is Krell, wearing a leather cuirass. His long, brown hair is wild and tangled, and his thick beard is tucked into his belt. He is holding a large animal bone. Gorg stops sharpening his axe and gestures angrily at the valley below with the weapon. He speaks, his voice a gravelly bark, the exact words 'That raid was a complete disappointment! The enemy surrendered far too quickly. Where was the resistance? Where was the verbal abuse?' Krell tosses the bone into the fire, sparks flying up. He replies, snorting derisively, the exact words 'I agree! When I threatened to drink from their skulls, they just cried. It was pathetic. A true warrior insults your mother before you decapitate him.' Gorg grunts, testing the edge of his blade with his thumb. He states, the exact words 'If the next village does not offer a proper argument before the shield wall clashes, I am going back to the longship.' A slow zoom in on Gorg disgruntled face illuminated by the flickering fire. Photorealistic 8k texture, Unreal Engine 5 render.