Alda'hirakam ghar Ara; Chapter 62

  • They have doubled the patrols. Casseth frowned as he stared into the flames of their campfire. We can’t even approach the town without being seen first. Something told him that the guards in Raven Rock had the eyes of a cliff racer. They’re probably very well trained too. We can’t get to the kid and have our revenge against Arnas.

    Casseth and his three friends had witnessed the mage and the two Altmer men fight. She had killed them both with ease. They’d almost had a chance to interfere if it wasn’t for the mage lady. The young reaver sighed. So close and yet out of reach. He began to think that their trip was wasted time.

    I wonder how things are at the main camp? Casseth winced. He regretted leaving without telling his young brother, Dram. Then his eyes widened and his lips parted. The meeting! Shit! The young reaver stood up and shook his head. I’ve been after the kid so much that I’ve forgotten the meeting. Dram must be feeling very… anxious. Casseth was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear his friends approaching the campfire.

    “What are we going to do, Casseth?” Sender asked, but then he noted his friend’s alarmed eyes. He stepped closer, nearly agitated. “Is something wrong?” The young savage reaver hadn’t seen his friend this alarmed before, so it must be something serious.

    Dals and Feranos returned from their scouting. “It’s impossible to go to the town. The nearby areas have nothing, but the wildlife.” Dals reported and frowned as the others were quiet. He heard Feranos drawing a breath as if Casseth was having some bad news to tell. The archer waited.

    “We’re not going after the kid.” Casseth finally announced after a moment that felt like an eternity as he turned to look to his fellow reavers. He could see the question on their faces. “We need to go back to the main camp. I’ve forgotten the meeting with the other bands.” He said in a low tone. “Rest a moment and eat. We’ll leave in half an hour.” He turned to pack his stuff.

    Sendel nearly gritted his teeth as his hands fisted. Unbelievable. We’re not going to…

    “What about Arnas?” Dals asked anxiously and glanced at Feranos for support.

    “This isn’t right-” Feranos began as he frowned.

    “We’re not forgetting our friend. But, we’ll fight the kid later if Boethiah is willing.” Casseth replied, then he glanced at Sendel who was seething next to him. “Who knows, he might come after us.” The young reaver was satisfied to see Sendel giving him a savage grin.

    “And when he comes, we’ll be ready.” Sendel beamed as his finger traced the bloodied edge of his war-axe. I can’t wait.

    “Until then, we need to hurry back to the camp and catch up on what’s been happening there.” Casseth said as he finished his packing. He watched his fellow reavers settling to rest for a while and eat. He took a deep breath. For a moment he had feared they’d rebel against him, but they seemed content, for now, and it was enough to reach back to the camp.

    Casseth sat down on his place and made a silent prayer to Boethiah. He still wanted to make the kid suffer and kill like he had done to Arnas. And Casseth swore on this.

    You shall not be forgotten, friend.



    They marched uphill with their eyes narrowed. The cold wind cut through their chitin armor, making them shiver.

    It was then when Casseth realized that the return to the camp might be slower than he’d expected. The cold season is behind the corner, and our camp is at the North. N’chow! I hope father has come up with a really good plan by now. He glanced at his fellow reavers. Sendel was wincing, but he flashed a grin at him when he noticed him. Feranos complained about the cold and how much he’d love to have a fur cloak. Dals was at the rear and was rubbing his arms while keeping an eye out. We need to take a break at somewhere warm, but is there such a place nearby?

    The young reavers took shelter inside the Dwemer ruins of Kagrumez. They didn’t venture deeper into the ruins, but settled in the lift room. Feranos got a campfire going while the others put out their bedrolls. They sat down around the fire and began to eat the fried grass hopper legs in silence.

    “Um, do you know anything about Vother the Cleaver?” Dals asked in a quiet tone once he’d finished his meal. “I heard someone in the camp mentioning his name before we left.” Somehow the name of this reaver made his skin crawl. And when Casseth looked to him, Dals knew something very nasty was coming.

    Sendel glanced to Casseth, his finger tracing the edge of his war-axe. “Which of us would tell? I don’t mind telling.” He noted Feranos perking up with curiosity, for a tale.

    “Go ahead.” Casseth nodded. “You do it better anyway.” A slight smile danced on his lips. He grabbed a Sujamma bottle from his backpack. It’s a tale that will shake you. Even if you’re a reaver. He himself had heard the tale from Selvura, and it had left a mark on him. The young reaver hoped he’d never meet Vother the Cleaver.

    Sendel shifted on his bedroll and began the tale. “It is said that Vother was born from a rape and that he grew up with the most notorious reaver band ever.” He said in a sinister tone. “ It’s believed that the reavers made him watch from a cage, how they raped his mother again, and later they forced him to kill her.” The young savage reaver noted Dals going pale and Feranos biting his lower lip.

    “Some time later, Vother gained strength and he ended up slaughtering the band, all on his own. And when he came out of the camp, bloodied, he wasn’t himself anymore. Among the reavers, it’s commonly believed that Vother the Cleaver snapped. How had he gained that strength? Someone suggested he drank the blood of his victims. The others believe he made a deal with Malacath.” Sendel ended the tale with an insidious tone.

    “Let’s hope we don’t see him around here.”  Casseth muttered. “We’ll sleep in turns. Sendel can take the first turn.”



    The small group of grass hoppers made its cover in a hole in the ground. The horkers idly shifted on the beach before they huddled in together for rest while the calm waves lapped toward the beach line.

    A lone snow fox had stopped eating the hare and sniffed at the air. Its ears perked up as the fox focused to listen in. As if it heard something, the small head tilted as it looked upward. To the sky. Then suddenly, it sprang away, leaving its prey behind.

    Idly floating about its herd, the bull netch knew nothing of the other creatures’ alertness. It and its herd just floated near the trees. Calmly it surveyed the area. It was peaceful so far. It was going to be a calm night as before, the bull netch deemed.

    The Riekling scout covered its eyes as the wind had grown strong. It was indifferent to the cold that came with the wind. The scout narrowed its eyes as if in disbelief. “Bafagra  badee.” It muttered. The wind had brought a bone-chilling snowstorm to the North. It was almost impossible to see ahead. The scout turned and hurried back to the camp. “Buruuuwah!” But before it reached the camp, the cold wind blew it over and the Riekling whirled into the high snow storm. It squeaked in terror as it spun around and around.

    “N’chow!” The Redoran guard grunted as the lantern was knocked off and rolled over the edge of the Bulwark. It had came with stealth, the strong wind that made the ash fly. He and his fellow guards were lucky to have helmets on, but they were unfortunate that it happened in the night time. The Bulwark was dangerous enough because of the netch shit that they’d been trying to scrape off since the morning. “Get more lanterns! Can’t see shit here.” The Redoran Guard growled. “And hold them otherwise someone might walk over the edge by accident.”

     

     

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