RedDusk — Roleplayer Guild

Location: Outside the Craenak's camps || Eavesdropping ||  Mood: Murderous

Mentions:  A fellow eavesdropper @Melo
 A certain someone @HowlsOfWinter

 Had his father lived, the Clan would have taken the fastest route. They would have descended from the mountains early in the spring, as soon as the frost thawed, passed through Wolfrahg briefly with gifts of rare furs and jewels, then headed straight forward on the road that ran through Abaneki territory. 

 The old chief was dead though, a new one had taken his place. And Viklaus had never been one for tradition. 

 They took the long way around this year, skirting at the border of occupied territories on rocky paths that hugged the jagged coastline. The escort was larger this year as well. Viklaus brought along most of the elite hunters and warriors, as well as the soothsayers and the seers in concordance with tradition. However, the Craenak’s new chief also recruited a number of mercenaries with him, having them act as vanguard. 

 Vadik was very puzzled by move, but he did not question the chief, as per tradition. Viklaus would have done what he pleased, regardless. So Vadik rode in silence, his drax slowed to a trot beside the chief’s. Behind them, the yaks ambled in their formation, backs burdened with offerings as well as necessities for the traveling party. Despite their relaxed pace, they were nearing the harbours of Hollafoth. It wouldn’t be long before they reached the Gathering grounds. 

 Just as soon as the tree line of Roanwyn’s territory ended, Viklaus signalled for them to make camp. While others scrambled off to follow the chief’s orders, Vadik remained idle. It was not his duty to participate in many activities of the clan. So instead, he just shadowed his brother, watching as the man walked the perimeter of their camp, deep in conversation with the clan elders. As usual, Vadik tuned the words out, but he couldn’t help catching snippets of the conversation. It seemed his brother was concerned about ‘defensive positions’ and ‘supply lines’, but for whatever reason, Vadik wouldn’t know. Not that he would have cared. Regardless, his brother half-turned and caught sight him hovering nearby. The man looked mildly surprised, even though he really shouldn’t. 

 “Vadik”- His brother gestured to the nearby campsite- “Go keep the outsiders inline. We need them settled in before sundown.” 

 Wordlessly, Vadik obliged, right fist over his heart in a curt salute before turning toward his destination. The order was obviously veiled dismissal, but that hardly surprised Vadik these days. Unlike his father, Viklaus had too many secrets, some he wouldn’t even trust his shadow with. Vadik had long given up on the futile task of gauging what went on inside his brother’s head. Instead, he just followed the orders. They were clear-cut and simple, and that was enough for him. 

 The mercenaries pitched their tents a few steps away from his clan’s. Most were occupied, either entertaining themselves with various games or immersed in chores around the campsite. Many did not seem to acknowledge his presence as he passed, half-hearted glances barely thrown his way. But since there wasn’t really any disturbance, he didn’t feel like he needed their attention either. Vadik quickly concluded his round of the mercenaries’ camp and turned to leave. It was unlikely that Viklaus required his presence at the moment; the man would have summoned him in such case, so Vadik decided to head over to the nearby stream. 

 It was difficult to get used to, this new freedom of his. He was so used to being the chief’s blade, looming over his father’s shoulder wherever the man walked. Viklaus, on the other, preferred to discuss matters with his advisors in private. In the end, Vadik ended up with far more free time than he knew what to do with. So usually, he trained, counting the beats of his racing heart to pass the time. Sometimes, men from the clan would join him, albeit briefly. They preferred to practice their skills on live targets, such as the captured beasts in various holding pens back in the village. Unlike most lowlanders, Craenak hunters did not rely so much on bows and slings. The clan preyed on predators, fierce beasts with thick hide and thicker blood. Spears and traps were considered more suitable when dealing with these creatures, as well as swords and axes for cornered ones. While Vadik was not expected to join the men on their hunting trips, he still did. These days, at least. Viklaus had other ways to deal with challengers now. 

 However, the long trip southward had begun to wear him out. His blade felt sluggish in his hands, and worse, his chest ached. Letting out a sigh, he sat down by the water, one hand pressed against the raw scar through the fabric of his shirt while leaning against a large boulder. The old wound on his chest still hurt, sometimes, but the healers kept assuring him time and time again that it had healed. Yet, they had no remedy for those nights when he startled awake in the dead of night, snarling at dreams half-remembered as fire burnt in his chest. He had stopped coming for their help entirely, and hoped that time would work its magic. It had been weeks since that fateful fight. He couldn’t afford to have any weakness. At least, not another one. 
 He watched amber eyes reflected in the water, and his hands reached for a small shard of topaz hidden in the fold of his shirt. It was rather dull, barely had the glint of those gems that his clan often gifted to esteemed outsiders, but with a leather string wrapped around one end, he thought it would make a fine necklace. Hopefully she would agree. 

 “…Damn the beast faced Abaneki…”

 The loud shout shook Vadik out of his contemplation and brought him to his feet. However, the boulder behind him had served to obscure the vision of the newcomers. They had yet to notice him. The soft grass did much to muffle whatever sound footsteps might have produced, so he couldn’t guess their number. But from muddled murmurs, there might be just more than he could handle alone. 

 “That beast faced bastard wouldn’t get away this time. Abaneki’s chief my ass, he couldn’t even herd sheep proper…” 

 “…had it planned. We strike on the second day of the Gathering…”

 “…the chief and his heirs… get them alone…”

 Vadik creased his brows, but his sword didn’t leave the scabbard. The Craenak champion knew when he was outnumbered. Attacking now, stopping this conspiracy dead in its track was very tempting. While he had little care for affairs of outsiders, Abaneki’s were an exception. The reason for that though, was very, very private. Regardless, a better course of action for now would be inaction. He needed to wait at the Gatherings, where the odds would surely be on his side.  

 So hidden behind the large boulder, Vadik listened in, trying his best to gather as much information as he was able. But at las, there was not much, aside from what he had already overheard. Soon enough, the conspirators took their leave, the opening fell silent once again.

 Only then did he leave his hiding spot, but it seemed another was already there, calling out to him. It took conscious effort to not reach for his weapon instinctively.

"You, your name was Vadik, correct? How interested are you in saving a chieftain?"

 He looked at the new comer, and recognized him as Floran, one of his brother’s mercenaries. However, the man’s reputation did separate him from many others, and he did catch the attention of the Craenak’s chief, so Vadik knew a little about the man and his love for honour. He knew not to expect support from the clan in this matter; Viklaus would not act without more concrete evidence of a conspiracy. This Floran might be his only ally in this quest, unless he could somehow alert the Abaneki. How many of them are willing to put faith on a Craenak’s barbarian?

 Who, except her? 

“Find me once we reach the Gathering.”- Ignoring the man’s pointless questions, Vadik spoke curtly, before turning to leave.
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