Dark Age Year 871
Eighth day of the First month
“Rayner, the Crimson Wolf, was one of the many travelling companions that Tharos picked up during our journeys throughout Aria and beyond. By the end of our travels together, Tharos had amassed quite a colourful collection of individuals, myself included. In all honesty, we were quite the assorted band – a band of misfits, as you might say, all bound by the thrill of adventure, the temptation of riches, and, in some ways, many of us were kindred spirits in some shape or form. Rayner was one of the few who stayed by his side until the end when circumstances forced our group to drift apart and scatter. What can I say about him? He was a mad, merry scamp with a heart of gold and nerves of steel. In many trying times, he had my or Tharos’ back when others would have faltered or succumbed to the insurmountable odds we always found ourselves facing. He often did it with a wide, toothy smile on his face. While he wasn’t what I would call a moral man or a paragon of virtue, there were things I had to respect and admire about him, even if I found some of his actions questionable. In many ways, he was the perfect representation of what a wild warrior should be and act: fearless in battle, strong, and most importantly honourable, well within our definition of what is honourable.” —Excerpt From the memoirs of Cenric Dellcreek.
It was early in the morning when Tharos finally returned to camp. He sat down near the remnants of the now burnt-out campfire, staring at the cave wall without uttering a word. His body was almost completely motionless, aside from the faintest twitch of his nose or the movements of his chest as he breathed slowly in and out. The light in his eyes was almost vacant, as if he wasn’t entirely present or was lost in deep thought, the weight of which threatened to crush him entirely. Cenric, who had fallen asleep during the night, just woke up as Tharos strolled back into their makeshift camp. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened while he was asleep and what Tharos was thinking about during what he started to call his blank-out episodes. As he sat across from Tharos, chewing on some beef jerky and nuts.
I wish I had something better to eat. However, beggars can’t be choosers, and it’s better than what I was getting before. While he acknowledged that it wasn’t the most ideal breakfast, but he couldn’t complain too much. It was better than a piece of stale bread, which he would only receive after hours of intense labour or multiple beatings for speaking out of turn.
As Cenric finished his breakfast, he glanced at Tharos and noticed fresh dents in his armour and a more tattered travelling cloak. He was covered in dried blood, likely his own or his opponents’. The sight left Cenric slightly worried, despite witnessing Tharos withstand blows that would have killed a normal man. Cenric was uneasy about Tharos putting himself in harm’s way for his own safety. While he didn’t fully trust Tharos due to not knowing him well and sensing there were things he wasn’t revealing, he also didn’t like the idea of being unable to help him. Despite his suspicions, there was something more than human about Tharos that made Cenric’s neck hairs stand on edge. However, Tharos had saved his life and freed him from bondage, so being useless was not how he wanted to thank his savoir.
I need to get stronger, not just for myself, but so I can stop what happened at Dellcreek or Zarbar from ever happening again. Cenric thought to himself as he tore into another piece of jerky. Flashes of Estred and Trorag then began to cross his mind, giving him a sense of warmth and reassurance, reminding him of simpler times before his journey into the unknown. He reminisced about the good times, like when Estred would invite him to join her in hunting and trapping wild game. Despite the limited wildlife in the village, consisting mainly of small mice, birds, and the occasional rabbit, Estred’s competition with the village mouser, a cat named Big Paws, never deterred her. Cenric would watch in awe as she stalked her prey with the grace of a cat on the prowl, her agile body contorting into acrobatic positions. After hours of effort, she would return back to him with a handful of birds or mice, her eyes gleaming with joy and a wide, toothy smile lighting up her face.
Her intentions for these hunts were never to hunt for food or help the village by getting rid of pests that could damage crops and affect the harvest. If anything, these were unintended side effects and benefits of her actions, for her intentions were not as altruistic as some members of the village once thought or believed. No, her intention of these hunts was often to grow her collection of pelts. As she got older, her collection expanded to include animal bones, complete animal skeletons, and then fully stuffed and taxidermied animals. Cenric, along with many people in the village, always thought it was a little bit weird at times, not the love of hunting for that was a common pastime for his people for both men and women alike. It was the fact she would keep the bones, she would itemise them, preserve them, and sometimes give them names like they were living pets. It was odd, especially when compared to what the other girls in the village around her age were doing. Some people, including members of her own family and the village elders, were worried that this hobby of hers would start expanding to include people as well, not only her fellow villagers but also other nearby settlements.
However, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to her peculiar charm. There was something oddly appealing about her weirdness, even though his initial instinct was to keep his distance, but he couldn’t stay away from her. Despite getting annoyed by her habit of giving him necklaces made of rabbit teeth or stuffed birds as gifts on his birthday or during seasonal festivals, he acknowledged that it was the thought that counted. However, he didn’t like nor did he want such gifts in the first place. The necklaces he could tolerate, but the stuffed birds always seemed creepy to him. The way they stared at him with their soulless black eyes, devoid of any spark of life, made him feel as if the eyes of death itself were watching him. As Cenric was reminiscing, he felt an odd sensation, as if someone had just opened a door into his head, then his thoughts were interrupted by a sudden voice in his head.
(“Sorry to interrupt your trip down memory lane, but I thought it would be good to inform you that we will have another person joining us on our travels,“) Tharos said, as Cenric saw Tharos now look at him. Cenric noticed that Tharos was now sitting with a straighter posture, and the light had returned to his eyes. Although Cenric knew he didn’t have to look at Tharos when they talked this way, he did so because he preferred to make eye contact when speaking to someone, especially when it came to Tharos, whom he found hard to read at the best of times.
(“I wish you would warn me before you do that. Also, you know I don’t like it when you start poking around in my head without asking.“)
(“My apologies, but I am not always in control of what things I see during our link. The only reason I was able to see them as clearly as I am is that you haven’t learned how to protect your mind. The ability to control one’s thoughts and shield one’s mind from outside influences is a very useful skill to learn, especially against mages or other magical creatures that can affect the mind.”) Cenric decided it might be better to ignore another breach of his privacy at the monument and just move on. As for the new person joining them, he could only imagine what kind of person might be joining them.
(“So, who is this new person who is going to be travelling with us?“)
(“His name is Rayner. He was the person who was following us before. But don’t worry, he is not a threat to us any-more, as he and I have reached an understanding.“)
Rayner – now, that was a name Cenric thought he wouldn’t hear for a long time. He had believed Rayner had either perished in the city explosion or died in the camp. If there had been any other survivors, they surely would have been scattered to the four winds by now. However, he didn’t know how to feel about the fact that he was alive or the fact that he would be travelling with him and Tharos. Sure, out of all the people he had met, Rayner, although the most intimidating, was also one of the few people who was nice to him, well the closest thing he felt Rayner had to being nice to someone. Whenever he was told to deliver food and water to Rayner, instead of accepting it, Rayner would often allow him to have his food instead. He would say he would rather starve to death in a cell wrapped in chains and irons than submit to his captors.
It was a mindset that was very common among his people, as they only respected strength above all other things. As it was Strength was what allowed one to be free, to do as they pleased. Being made a slave or at the mercy of another person was considered a fate worse than death. Being viewed as weak or losing your freedoms at any time or any place was seen as being lesser in the eyes of his people. While he could understand and respect aspects of this mindset to a certain extent, he also felt that there were aspects of it that were short-sighted or foolish at best. For example, if his village hadn’t been burned down and most of its inhabitants killed or enslaved, and if he had been the only one captured and managed to make his way back to Dellcreek, he would be exiled and cast out. He would be considered dead to them, which was the best-case scenario. The most likely fate awaiting him would be to be killed for being considered too cowardly to die fighting to protect his freedoms. Maybe he would even be sacrificed to the gods so his people would be forgiven for bringing life to such a failure.
However, Cenric never viewed it as single-minded or as black and white as his people did. For him, going with the flow was more his style. It wasn’t out of cowardice or a desire for things to be easier; some might believe quite the opposite. He believed that sometimes it was better to sit back and let things play out to their natural conclusion, or to be more precise, only taking action when the time was right, and not reacting to every single provocation. While he could admit that this attitude and way of thinking had gotten him into a fair share of trouble at times, such as being captured and enslaved in the first place, so far it wasn’t turning out all too bad as things could be far worse than they actually were.
What dose strength mean for me though? However before he could finish his thoughts, he heard Tharos voice again.
(“Do you have reservations about Rayner joining us. You seem nervous. Do you know him?“)
(“Well, I wouldn’t say I know him, but I have heard of his many deeds and met him when he was being held prisoner at the Eilis camp.“)
(“I see so what of his deeds and reputation, what do people say about him.”)
(“Well, they say he is a warrior with a fearsome reputation, that he once slew about thirty men in a single battle. He was also the leader of the infamous mercenary group Rayner’s Raiders.“)
(“Interesting, he sounds like a useful person to have around.“)
(“Sure what ever you say. But are you sure you can trust him?”)
(“Well, I trust him enough to not stab us in the back. If that’s what you’re asking,“) Tharos replied. While he didn’t fully agree with Tharos’ decision, he didn’t have much to argue against it. If he was being honest with himself, what was the worst that could happen with Rayner joining them?
(“So when will Rayner be joining us?“)
(“He should be joining us shorty. In the meantime, finish your breakfast and pack up camp. Once you’re done with that wait for him to show up. There is something I wish to investigate before we set off.“)
(“Understood.”)
It didn’t take long for Cenric to finish his breakfast, and help pack up camp by the time he was finished Tharos was gone, without a trace almost like a ghost. He was Most likely investigating whatever got his interest. Figures. Cenric thought to himself as he headed outside to wait for Rayner. The morning sun was bright, the sky clear. It felt warm and almost pleasant on his skin, a refreshing change from the hellish weather he had endured while marching through his nightmare landscape. The heat was intense, and the sand… well, he didn’t want to get started on the sand.
Luckily for him, he wouldn’t have to wait for long. As he waited outside the cave and directed his gaze towards the horizon, he saw Rayner slowly approaching from over the horizon, maybe a few hundred feet away. Rayner was just as intimidating as ever, even more so now that he was fully armoured and carrying weapons. One of the weapons strapped to his back was a massive double-bladed great axe with a wooden shaft that looked like it was carved from a great oak tree. The axes double blades shined in the sunlight, at least the parts that were not grimy or covered in what he safely assumed was blood.
That is quite the axe Cenric thought to himself, wondering where Rayner got it from. While his people loved axes, most axes, even the bigger ones, were often single-bladed. It wasn’t very common to see a double-bladed axe. As he finished that thought, he saw Rayner standing right in front of him, his piercing blue eyes staring intensely. Cenric felt a wave of fear wash over him, thinking he might soil himself. Rayner was even scarier up close. Gathering his courage to speak, Cenric was surprised when Rayner spoke first. While his voice was forceful and furious as usual, there was a hint of softness to it. It seemed like the rage emanating from him had lessened slightly.
“So whelp, you survived the city and got dragged into this as well.” Cenric looked up at Rayner and slowly nodded.
“I didn’t get dragged into this. He saved my life,” Cenric stated with Rayner giving a loud snort in response.
“Well, that milk drinker spared mine, so you know what that means,” Cenric said with a nod. Among wilders, both north and south, there is an old tradition, though not many still follow this rule, some still do. If a wilder warrior is defeated in battle and spared, they are honor-bound to follow that person wherever they may go or until they prove strong enough to overcome them in battle. It is called many things, but the most common was the price of mercy. Cenric then saw Rayner turned his head from side to side, sniffing the air as he did so.
“Speaking of him, where is he. I want to get a move on, this heat is killing me.” Rayner continued.
“I don’t know where he is. He said he would be gone for a few moments and to wait for you.” He then saw Rayner’s face start twisting into a small scowl.
“And what in all the frozen north could be interesting in this wasteland?” Rayner spread his arms wide to the side, gesturing all around him to make the point clear. A point that Cenric was all too aware of – that the dead lands were a barren wasteland full of sand, rocks, inhospitable weather, and monstrous creatures. While Cenric didn’t know what could interest Tharos in such a desolate wasteland, he had to consider the possibility that Tharos knew something he didn’t. Before he could speak and convey this to Rayner, he noticed Rayner stop and hold his head for a moment. At that instant, Cenric felt an odd sensation in the back of his head and then heard a voice.
(“Sorry to interrupt your wonderful conversation, but it is time for us to head out.”) the voice said. Cenric turned his head around and saw Tharos standing at the edge of the cave, who was now dusting himself off and wiping off what he amused was fresh blood off his sword. Cenric looked at him with a look of curiosity until Tharos retuned it with a bland looking smile.
(“Sorry for the hold up, but one of the caves here led to an old abandoned mine that I wanted to explore quickly. There wasn’t much there, sadly, aside from the residents living there that tried to eat me.“)
(“Oh, well what happened to them?“) Cenric asked, even though he probably knew the answer. Tharos then tapped on his sword, which was now tied to his belt, which was all Cenric needed to know, yet Tharos decided to elaborate
(“I tried to talk my way out of it, but they left me no choice. But that aside, it’s time to move out. Follow me.“) Tharos then started walking off into the distance, gesturing to Cenric and Rayner to follow behind him. As he was about to follow, he saw Rayner turning towards him, about to say something. However, Cenric had a feeling what he was about to say and beat him to the punch.
“Yes, yes he does.” Rayner gave a loud snort at that and followed. However, off in the distance several leagues away, a large group of heavily cloaked figures stood next to a few horses and chariots, watching the three of them from afar. One of these figures then mounted one of the horses, gesturing to the others to join him. The group of cloaked figures quickly followed behind him.
