You give the call for your powerful friends, who are hiding just
behind the camp borders. They rush through the gorse tunnel and come
to a halt. The clan is utterly amazed, but they're backs are arched
and they are ready to kill. You order all forces to halt.
"Now," you say in a steady voice, "these are my
powerful friends. They are called Blueclan, because of their cultist
leader who believes in sorcery and that the colors contain power. Blue
contains the power to dominate and confound enemies and friends alike,
according to their beliefs. Now then, to get on with it, Blueclan, I
introduce you to my small yet sturdy clan of deadly and highly trained
warriors: Thunderclan. We are represented by the natural force that
splits the sky in half and shakes the very earth. The thunder that
follows warns of our power, while the lightning itself testifies of
our unpredictable and deadly strikes, which never fail to bring our
enemies to their knees." Your whiskers twitch in amusement as
Blueclan fighters and sorcerors continue to flood through the gorse
tunnel. This isn't even half their forces! You announce, "The
leader of Blueclan wishes to assess our clan's power and strength. You
will not let me down in this, or I will kill you." What
happens?