Chapter 7, Ground work

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"I do have to wonder, are there really people willing to overlook true transgressions? I can't help but wonder why? I am not exactly innocent in this, ah... Who am I kidding, you know I am not. I can only appreciate that you have put these people before me. I ask you, please. Grant me yet another day..."

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Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Harvest, D.1 

     We had been waiting for this day, the first days of the harvest in the outer fields. The humans were busy with their tasks, didn't even notice us. I finally got a few others from the Clan to join me with the scouting missions. Ghet and Yvet were with me today, two others from the Chief's raiding crew were with us too. Uncle Knoll had decided to join in on my information hunting, he had perpetually bloodshot eyes due to his favorite nighttime activity. He had always been a part of the backdrop to the village, a stalwart protector. If there was a squabble to be resolved no one wanted Knoll to step in, it would be the end of it no doubt about it. Still he always seemed more gentle to me, granted I never had much chance to speak with him, or any real need for him to impose his bulk into situations either. Not like Hob at least.  

     He and the Chief would drink themselves into the cool of the night, joking and laughing about their past. It was always entertaining to listen to their stories, when they would tolerate us listening in. Yet, there were some things where Knoll would have this distant look in his eyes, Chief would set his heavy hand on his shoulder and tell him he’s not there anymore. Even from a young age we were told not to ask about some things. When we were told about the Red Mountain, we learned even quicker Knoll wasn't someone to anger. Let sleeping monsters lie, is what Mother Kari told me. But, I had always wanted at some point to see if I couldn’t help him with what haunted him. His wife would tell us from time to time that he just needed to let a memory ride its course sometimes. 

      Cori was a welcome sight, always there for me, always cheering me on no matter what I ended up doing. She was one of the first to pull me into a tight hug when I was made a Raid Leader. I was an only child, yet she was always around like a big sister I never had. Not realizing how much I actually missed her, we hadn’t had much time for each other since I was given a crew. She was one of Yorm’s raiders after all, she had her own duties to tend to. But, it was nice to see that she wanted to tag along with me, telling me that more and more raiders were hearing about the way I was running things and all wanted to see how it was working. 

     Built like a panther, she always was more muscular than me, taller. She still refused to grow her hair out long like the rest of the women in the clan, said she liked the short braid and how it didn’t take half the morning to fuss with it everyday. Claimed that it was also something that people couldn’t grab as easily on raids. The heavy iron earring in the fold of her ears bounced as she turned and smiled down at me, the nose ring tilting outward as she always wrinkled her nose when she smiled. 

      These days she was far more respected as a raider, peerless with a spear. Not many faster than her, except for me and a few others like Ghet. One of our best fighters, not a bad shot with a rifle, but don’t try and hand her one of the single handed flintlocks. Still, she was a blur when she fought, her leather armor and heavy padded shirt were noiseless on her as she stalked through the wood. 

     We had our eyes on a very small wagon full of sugar beets and herbs. Waiting for the farmer to leave, he was busy fussing over one of the wheels. It had been knocked askew from Knoll throwing a stone at the spokes of the thing. Knocked the wood clean off its bracketing. We spotted this easy prey while we were heading toward the city to fan out and gather more information about potential targets. We were hoping to find out when the farmers from the south were going to start heading up to sell their excess goods in the markets. 

     We really couldn't pass up the chance at this though. Those beets preserve well, and the herbs would break up the monotony of the rest of the food we had. It wasn’t much, but then again everything helped. Cori stalked further ahead to get closer. We came up behind her, moving quietly through the saw-grass along the outskirts of the field. She whispered to me "Is there any reason we are choosing this one? He seems to have bigger carts and wagons. We could try those too." She seemed genuinely curious to me, not really questioning me. Which I appreciated, still being just a bit defensive about the start of me being a Raid Leader.

     "Because this is the last cart of the day, While we were watching him on top of the hill, remember the other four farmers that came up and talked to him for a while." My eyes pinned to the farmer, watching to see if anyone else was coming to help him and his wagon problems.

     "Yes, what of it, I couldn't understand that language of theirs, not like you do. I still don’t understand where you learned it or why." I shot her a side eye, while she looked back at me with a blank unreadable face. I hated when she did that, sometimes couldn’t tell when she was just messing with me. 

     "The last cart of the day, the smallest one he has. Meaning, if this one goes missing, he probably won't hurt from it. We don't want to down a farmer, means we won't be able to hit this farm again later, or next year." I explained as if it was some big revelation. 

     "Makes sense" For being as large as he was, Knoll still made me jump when he spoke, never even heard him move that close to us. "You know, I never really appreciated how much time you had spent watching these humans. I wouldn't have given that much thought. It's similar to how we shouldn't hunt down the whole herd of deer. Have some for next year."

He set his hand on the top of my head like I was still a little girl. “It's nice to see, finally a Raid Leader that watches and observes before striking. I grow tired of seeing the bloodshed, grow tired of the same old tactics.” Cori gave him a look that seemed to me like an agreement. 

     Ghet chimed in, "Exactly. Now let's get ready, I just stole his hammer, he will have to go get another one and leave the cart behind for now."

     "What? I didn't even see you do it!" I exclaimed, all three of them hushed me at that, with varying states of annoyance on their faces. Like a tired parent done with their children for the day. But, it filled me with a strange sense of Déjà vu, like I was back learning from them when I was younger. Ghet teaching me to hunt, Knoll teaching me to stand on my own, or Cori teaching me to be patient. The smile came without me realizing, earning me just another odd look from the trio. 

     "I've been part of the hunting party for a very long time Ilgor, me and Knoll" Ghet grinned at me, "You learn eventually."

     The farmer got up and dusted off his pants, and started walking back to the farm house. We waited until he went inside and hurried to pull the cart quickly back into the tree line. I covered the wheel tracks we made in the soft dirt as we went. Getting to the tree line when the farmer came back out of the house. Well inside the forest when we heard him yell, echoing off the trees. 

“Ghet, scout out for a while.” I huffed as I jogged back to the cart. Ghet stopped pushing the cart to stay behind to watch and give us a warning if they found the covered tracks. I took his place and pushed the cart from behind while Cori and Knoll pulled. “If the farmer finds us before we get back, stand down. No blood.” My voice came with puffs of steam as the chill forest air wafted through the trees, humid and soothing. Both of the Veteran Raiders nodded without a second thought. We could still hear the farmer yelling faintly as we found our trail back to the village.

     I hopped on top of the wagon carefully working around the goods to jump down and put my hands on the handle that Knoll was pulling. With a nod to the back of the cart and a bump in the road, Knoll ducked under the wagon letting it roll over him. The thing became much easier to move with him pushing rather than me. As we found our path hidden behind thick leafy brush, the trip only kept getting easier since the pathway had been packed down with generations of use. 

     “I want to return his cart when we get everything back to the village.” I spoke, content as the two smiled back at me. 

     “Why? Might make some things easier?” Cori asked. “Then again, we do have a lot of these anyway. Make the farmer maybe a bit less angry at us.”

     I felt Knoll reach into the bag at my waist, the sound of coins rustling made me significantly less annoyed at him poking around in it, the clan had no use for the coins. “I’ll bring it back. Yorm mentioned that you are trying to do what the Humans do, how many of these things do you think what we took is worth?” Knoll’s gravely voice sounded far quieter in the woods, like the rustling of leaves. 

     “Just give him the whole bag, it’s all copper coins anyway. Humans seem to hold more value in the silver and gold ones. I’ve seen them trading, the bag is worth at least four cart loads.” I told him. “Just one last thing. Let him see you leaving, make it obvious the clan was the one who took his things and paid him for it.”

     “Yes, Sir.” I glanced back at him, thinking I’d see a sarcastic smirk on his face, yet he only looked back at me with not an emotion on his face. Like he had no problem taking orders from me. 

      We were almost back when Ghet showed back up. "Nothing, he didn't notice the broken grass or your covered tracks, Ilgor. Good job on the cover, I’m glad I’m not a terrible teacher yet." He teased me, bumping into my shoulder as he started pushing too. "He got back to the cart spot, and lost it. Started ranting about those greedy boys from the dock side. Maybe we can use that to our advantage next time. Good to know about the local mischief."

     "You're right, a few little thieves from human lands could be useful. Nice catch," I bumped back into him, and grinned "So you do listen when I'm teaching you how to speak common" Cori and Knoll laughed.

     “Speaking of paying attention and teaching, how are you and Yvet?” Cori’s shit eating grin was more than enough. 

     “I don’t know what you mean.” Even as I said it, I felt my cheeks color, and Cori’s grin only got bigger.

      We were well received when we got back to the village. We were going through the motions with the offering to the Chief, though Mother had said a very different prayer today. Mother Kari would often thank The Great Father for gracing us with good fortune. Blessing the loot from the raid, she would sometimes add in a small sermon if she thought it was relevant depending on what happened during the raid. But, a prayer for an individual for something that was meant to be for the clan, was unusual. It honestly caught the Chief off guard. 

     Mother had begun speaking in a rhythmic cadence that reminded us of a fireside drum beat. She kept her voice low and pitched up at each new stanza to the prayer. "Oh Great Chief Bhal, Please give this lowly worm a voice to speak. I beseech thee to grant us knowledge, to know the worthy." She raised her hands and lifted her staff "Oh Great Chief Bhal, grant us eyes and sharpen our ears to see the champions among us, for those that may be of use to you." Her staff began to glow with a pale light. Approaching the offerings and waved the staff over it. She then pointed her staff at our little crew, and a small bolt of light shot out at Ghet and Me. It startled us both, we really didn't understand what had just happened.

     "Oh Great Chief Bhal, Benevolent Father, grant us the favor to survive this Season of Harvest. Grant us the eyes to see the worthy to continue the Clan" She tapped her staff against the stones on the ground, it resonated out. Like a bell tolling through an empty courtyard, echoing back to the beginning. The sound was slow, like waves through icy seas, the dust of those empty halls sounding with life once more. A small fire appeared and it was strange. Mother's eyes rolled back, and the small flame split in three, and slowly drifted toward the Chief, Me and hovered over the High Priestess. 

     She gasped, and snapped back to herself, tapped her staff on the stones again. Only this time the sound was clear, pure. That tap of her staff, the only sound that could be heard over the waves smacking the bluffs, or the muttered tones of the crowd around us. "It is done, Great Father Bhal is pleased with the offerings for the clan."

     The Chief grunted, and gave the food out to the Clan to begin preserving for the Season of Waiting. He dismissed us all and walked off with the High Priestess, practically dragging her along by the sleeve of her long ceremonial dress. I looked at the other three, they seemed surprised at what had just happened. Knoll had a perfect comical "O" shape to his open mouthed stare. 

     "I've never heard Mother give that prayer before" I told them.

     Knoll answered first, "Yorm is pissed, the coward doesn’t want anyone else to hear what he has to say with Mother. I suppose he will want to know why as well. But, Ilgor, that is an old prayer. We don't hear it much. It's supposedly for having Bhal recognize the efforts of the village. But..." He trailed off, hearing him call Yorm a coward was a surprise.

     "It was supposed to send off a fire to everyone in the village." Cori said in a slightly stunned voice. "Haven't we been worthy?" Her hand was already around the clan symbol around her neck, nervously playing with the iron ring in her ear. She turned and walked off with Knoll, she continued talking with him in hushed, furtive tones. She always said her prayers with Mother in the morning, for such a fierce fighter, she was still faithful to the holy books Mother preached from. 

     Ghet left as well, didn't say a word, Only that face he made, more than obvious he was planning something. I went after Mother and Father, wanting to hear what they were going to talk about. As I caught up to them, and hid behind a jutting rock face from the bluff wall. Glad they hadn't turned around the entire time, there really wasn't anywhere to hide while following them. I was expecting them to and to receive a punishment for trying to eavesdrop on them.

     "I feel my age these last few months, I needed to know who had promise. To be honest, I'm not surprised Bhal favors Ilgor. She has been making great strides in her development and the way she leads the raids." The high priestess sounded tired. I dared opening my ears wider to hear them better over the surf, darting to the next gap in the bluff face, knowing that they would make me more visible. 

     "Yes, she has. Though, I find it irritating that my boys want to raid with her more and more. It's almost like they want to just see how she's operating, but these days I'm not so sure." That was a surprise. How many of Chief's crew had asked to join me? I knew Cori and Knoll made their request, they outright told me. After hearing how Knoll talked about Yorm… I was beginning to wonder if there were not a lot more Raiders tired of it. It left an odd taste in my mouth, if I had too much attention like this they might just try and make me Chief. That thought left my chest feeling hollow. 

    They turned round the bend in the bluff faces, the waves crashing against the sand drowned out what Mother responded with. Still, I crept forward more, over hearing the last part of what Yorm had said. “...I am worried about her. I am worried about what Bhal will command.” The dark forest canopy in front of them, eyes straight ahead, while the bright noon day sun hid me from behind, eyes darting from cover spot to cover spot.

     "Illy, you can stop hiding." Mother scolded me. I didn't move for a moment from behind the gap in the rock, surprised, I thought I wasn't heard and wasn't seen. I felt like a child coming forward to receive whatever punishment would come, but then again I never liked how they talked about important things away from everyone else. Flushing slightly, sheepishly moved out from behind my rock and walked over to them. I tried to keep my head high and look confident. But, Mother just smiled at me, and tapped Chief on the arm saying. "Father, why don't you send her off, something to keep her preoccupied." 

     So that was Mother’s game, she always used to tell me dealing with the bullheaded boys was a lot easier if you gave them an idea. I was all the more grateful that mother was here, clearly Yorm would have been much harsher if she wasn’t there. He crossed his arms and looked down at me and grunted out "Go see the smith and help him for a while. We need to keep up our end of the deal." Annoyed, but somehow not mad. Did they want me to hear this? Did they know I would follow them? I remember stories of others following Mother and Father to listen to what they talked about. But, they always came back scared to ever do it again. At least that's what Yvet and Hob told me. 

     The village was lively as ever as I walked through to go see Caleb. The pleasant chatter coming from the caves, the smell of drying herbs over kilns wafted through the air. Sweet and bold, the smell of home, the smell of old memories. The sound of a few of them fixing the few pieces of furniture, the constant gossip from the girls tasked with fixing bed rolls, fitting scavenged clothing, and torn garments. The boys hummed softly in their work while they cooked and cleaned. Many of the Clan waved at me as I walked by, some asked what I was up to, some wanted to talk with me. 

     I spoke with one of my friends, Kyri, for a while, she fussed over fixing my braid. She kept telling me there were too many hairs out of place and insisted on fixing it. Over an hour later and my head was sore from her pulling on hair like a blind man that stalks through the middle of a crowd, she announced it was done. Constantly asking questions about what I had seen in the outside world. I had to keep reminding myself, those that never passed their trials, were never allowed to leave the clan territory. Kyri had to be rescued by the Raiders after she hadn’t come home, only to find that she had been cornered by wolves. A tight weave of brambles blocking the entrance to the caves was the only thing keeping them away. 

    A few others had come up to talk to us while she worked. They wanted to know how the raids were, and asked what was so different about that prayer today. They talked about what I had seen in the city, and they wanted to know more about the humans too. They had rarely ever seen one, for some the last time they were allowed to leave the safety of the village was when they were children. Learning to pass their Trial, only to fail in the end. All the Raiders, myself included, indulged them to their hearts desire about the outside world. If they wanted something, we looked out for it, if they asked questions about what we had seen, we answered. It’s part of the life of being a Raider, more-so than the others, me being a Raid Leader. 

     Finally I had to tell them that the Chief wanted me to get going, I hugged my friend and a few of the others and set back off. As I was making my way over the stream, I noticed those kobolds heading away from Caleb's fenced area. I'd have to ask Caleb what he actually traded with them sometime. 

     I found the old smith hammering away at his anvil. Sweat dripped from his olive colored face and into his beard from the heat of the forge. He didn't notice me as I strolled into his workshop, I sat down on one of the stumps he had apparently cut for the fence around the wagon. Noticing he had carved out the back so that it was almost a chair. I watched him work for a while, just enjoying the process he ran through.

     He had been hammering away at a long spiral shape that he was slowing working into a bar again. He was methodical, hammering away until he had seen something I couldn't and reheated it until it glowed bright white again while he worked his bellows. He removed the piece and began working it again in the same fashion. Working it back into a long dowel, then moving it to the horn on the anvil and shaping it quickly again into a spiral. He returned it to the fire and repeated the bar shaping process. 

     After a while he flattened out his bar and shaped it into a rough triangular head. He flipped the metal around and began hammering away at the other end, flattening that out too. He worked this into a cone and punched two holes through the side. I could finally recognize it as a spear head. He then returned it to the fire, and turned around. He jumped a little when he saw me, like a cat startled to see its own shadow after a long nap.

     "You know you really need to stop doing that, Ilgor." He sighed and shook his head "Scare me half to death ev'time" 

     "I didn't want to disturb your work, spoil your focus. Besides, I like watching you work." I smiled at him. Tilting my head, letting my braid thump off my shoulder and whip around my back. 

     "How long were you there anyway?" He asked as he removed the spear head from the forge. I watched while he hammered at the edges making a clean bevel along the sides. I waited until he returned the piece to the fire.

     "Long enough to see that spiral thing. What was that?" I walked over to his side. Careful to stay out of where his elbow would land, and just off to his side so that the sparks wouldn't blast out at me. I had learned to stay out from under his strikes after one rather unfortunate incident. 

     "I'm trying out a new pattern for my steel, I'm going for a wave in the center along the middle." 

     "Why a pattern?"

     "You never stop experimenting with your craft. I wanted to try a new pattern simply because I wanted to." He pulled the piece back out the fire and began working on the edges again. 

     I walked over to the table where the Chief had a few of the boys drop off the armor we were supposed to work on. It was mostly leather, with a few metal arm guards. Celeb said they were in okay shape, but we would need to trim off excess material to fit to the Clan. That it would be better to trim it now, while the leather wasn't too soft or too dried out. 

     I heard his hammer strikes cease again, and he called to me from the other side of the shop. "I'll have you start trimming up the bodies of those before we do those pauldrons. Go grab your knife, I left it next to the grinding wheel. I sharpened it for you. Start by opening the body and remove about a half from either piece." He began hammering again.

     He had shown me the last time I worked with him how to trim leather. How to hold the knife and slowly glide it though the material. He was faster than me, but when I complained about it, he laughed and said it comes with practice. He had taken one of his old knives and cut the handle down to fit my hand for me. 

     He had made, what he called a template, for me to follow while I cut through the material. Said that any fitting needed beyond this trimming could be done by making new belts and buckles for them. A one size fits all affair. I grabbed the knife and took the pauldrons off one set and began working. 

     I tuned out Caleb and his hammer while I worked. I focused on trying to follow the template without ruining the rest of the chest piece. I finished up one, and moved onto the next. I started again, and was fishing this one when my hand slipped and I cut out a grove near the waistline of the leather. 

     "Damnit!" I yelled. Caleb walked over and looked at it. My hands were tired, and my callouses were getting raw in them. He sat down in front of me, and took the piece. Turned it over a few times, inspecting. I was waiting for him to tell me it was unfixable.

     "You know, your people don't have much of a culture." He told me, scratching his beard.

     I was curious about that. We had a lot of culture, we had our own traditions. "What do you mean? Did you want to learn about our ways?"

     "In due time, but I mean that aesthetically, you just look like a bunch of homeless children out here. You steal what you can from others, you live in nothing but rags mostly." He had a way of saying that as a statement of fact, which I suppose it was. But, It was still rather annoying.

     "What does ethically mean?" I stumbled over the word that he spoke.

     He chucked "Es-teh-tic-cal-lee" He enunciated the word again "It roughly means a way of looking, or a certain motif about how you look. The Dwarves like geometric designs and dark red stone, that's their aesthetic. The humans of Glaion like their crowded markets and their Griffin symbols. The Gnomes like subtle swirls and tree symbols. Those are aesthetics. Your clan just seems to be a mash of whatever you happen to take."

     "I suppose you're right, we don't really care much about how we look, only that it's comfortable and functional." I told him.

     "There's a merit in that, perhaps your clan doesn't need a look about them. From how everyone talks you do seem to have your own way of doing things. I don't think I could learn that chirpy language of yours to know though" He chuckled again, but continued "I have an idea for this armor, something that I don't see often. I think it would look good on your people. Though it would be more work to make, but it is more easily repaired with less material."

     "You are kind Caleb. Why would you want to help us like this? Why do you want to help us be more distinct? Or in general at all?"

     "I hail from Zybtine, a land in the far east in the desert. We put great pride in how we look, we tend to recognize patterns and colors before we recognize faces. Though some would say this is also a failing of ours." He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, "I just think personally your people might be able to benefit from a bit of refinement. Besides I like you, Ilgor. I want to see you become a great craftsman." 

     I flushed a little at the genuineness of it "I'm not so sure about the armor, wasn't the original Idea here so that we could cover it up so people wouldn’t know we were wearing it? Besides you haven't told me how I'm going to fix this cut I made in the material." 

     "Oh, that, we will just stitch it back together, and make a wider belt for it. Or we can turn it into Brigandine." 

     "Brigandine, what is that?" 

     "A kind of scaled armor, of overlapping plates of material. So in this case, it'll be leather. It means that that cut doesn't really matter. The only difference is that we cut up all the leather and put it back together. I think we should leave the pauldrons though, I like how they look." He continued on "Besides wearing clothes over it could work, though learning how to do that is also what I'm talking about."

     "What do you mean? Are you talking about aesthetics again?" I sighed and put the leather down, Caleb really wanted to talk about this. 

     "Yes, Ilgor, you're people shouldn't have to live in rags, why do you do this?" I paused, I took my time in answering him, it was a good question. That was something I never really thought about. Never even gave it a second thought. "Ilgor, do you mind if I ask something?"

     "Not at all" 

     "Do all the men and women of your Clan dress in rags?" He looked me right in the eyes as he said it.

     "What's wrong with my vest? My chest is covered. My undershirt sits low enough that it doesn't 'reveal' anything, it's practically a skirt with long tails as it is." I huffed. 

     “Ilgor, that isn’t what I asked. Yes, for the most part you are covered, but… that undershirt has seen better days, that vest has more patches than the original fabric. Does the clan steal everything.” He paused, then continued. “I’m sorry that came out wrong.” He wheezed, running a hand over his face. 

     “Then say it again, and try a different direction.” I huffed again, trying not to feel insulted, Common didn’t seem like his first language, I understood that too well. 

     “From the patchwork, your people clearly know how to repair. The stitching isn’t even bad, quite good actually! But, from the others that have come here, its a cacophony of mixed cultures and styles. You’ve stated that you want more for your people. Wouldn’t a nice start be to give them new clothing, in a style that speaks to them? To give them an identity that gives them more of an air of… Civility” He said with a flourish of his hand. 

     “Yes,” I said popping the collar up of my shirt to block the cool breeze. “It would be nice. I see what humanity has, and wonder… why can’t we have that? I need more people to listen to me when I tell them there shouldn’t be any blood the way we do things. I pay for the majority of the things we bring back now. I only keep raiding to keep the Mother and Father happy. But, these days, I wonder if Mother cares about that anymore.” Darting my eyes back up to him, “Besides my shirt and vest don’t reveal that much, anyway. Sure could do with a good cleaning, and some better repairs, but it’s not that bad.”

     "From the front, yes, but do you realize how many times I have to look away to preserve your modesty when you are bending over to work on something, or when you start to sweat and that thin material gets damp? That is what I speak of. Speaking with you, and your Clan has made this old man realize that you are not beasts."

I flushed deeply this time, and looked down at my vest, not really knowing what to say. But, he continued on "I see now that you are an intelligent people capable of thinking and rational thought. Perhaps if more humans saw you as not-rag wearing savages, they might treat you better. I want to teach you how to make actual clothes, how to make it so your warriors can wear it over their armor. Maybe even develop a style for your people, deepen your roots. Give your Clan a respectable identity."

     Getting up off the stump, he didn't get up from his kneeling position with the cut leather in his hands. I looked him in the eyes and told him "I would love to learn more, I'll keep in mind what you said though. To be honest, we recently came into possession of a large amount of cloth. It would be nice to have more of the Clan here learning, besides me though." 

     Celeb grabbed my hand and told me. "Ilgor, my friend, I would like to see your people grow, in any way I know how. You have been kind to me these last few weeks, you have broken the monotony. I know you don't talk of your culture much, but I do think you at least would benefit from the knowledge. Whether it is teaching you sewing and tailoring, or helping your clan with protection."

     I hugged him, I felt his face grow warm. "Thank you, to have any human helping us seemed impossible not long ago. But, Celeb?"

     "Yes, my friend?"

     "Lighten up, my Family and I are an affectionate people" I chuckled. "Quit blushing every time you see something, we are so used to the clothing we wear, that only out-right nudity is frowned upon in my Clan. Stop getting flustered by me hugging you."

     "Its just the way I was raised."

     “As it is with me, Friend.”

***

???:

"Was that stunt with your priestess's magic necessary?" The Raven haired woman asked as she toyed with the long locks drifting from behind another masked man, teeth as vile sharp as a demons. 

"She is my priestess to do with as I please. She is old, and needs replacing. Ilgor, Hob, Ghet, one of them is suitable. I would prefer to see Ilgor topple her Father. Such a potent soul he will be to me." The bulky creatures horns barely moved as he spoke. 

"Cold, Bhal. Very cold, but then again, you've always done things your way. Without so much as a hint of hesitation." The masked man spoke this time, brushing the Raven's hand away. 

He finally turned to face them, the question asked without needing to be. "Do you question me?" Spoke without words, the Masked man only grinned evilly the challenge plain as the new days sun.