Winds howled, freezing snow tearing at the faded cloak, eager to ravage the soft flesh beneath. Pulling his hood low the youth squinted against the hail. Days had passed since the red haired boy last ate, winters frigid grasp having sent any prospective prey into slumber. A silhouette stood against the distance. Focusing, Kain’s eyes shifted, taking in the enormous city carved out the equally titanic mountain. By the ten, how far away is the fucking thing. Lacking any mitts, the youth pressed his hands closer beneath the patched cloak. Moth eaten attire offering the tender human form little protection against the elements.
For hours more the youth trudged through knee high snowfall, the distant city inching nearer. Coming closer to the sealed gates Kain reverted the slit eyes, darkness befalling the world. Barely seeing beyond his outstretched arm, the boy ran a hand across the metal gate. Catching a shimmer of light Kain looked above. Lamplight illuminated the ramparts as a figure atop patrolled. The red haired youth shouted, screaming to the heavens in a vain attempt to draw attention, sadly, the unceasing roar of the gale drowned all within its fury. Resolute, Kain pounded the sturdy gate. Again to no avail, the boy stopping short of potentially damaging the monolith. Cursing his luck Kain searched for the wicket gate. Feeling the grooves the youth sat down, back leaning against the cold steel. Kain repositioned, placing the rucksack between him and the frosty gate. Cloak firmly wrapped about him and cursing sailors to shame, the youth attempted to sleep until sunrise.
“Move vagrant”. The boy awoke to a kick between his ribs. “I said scram you flighty cur”. Shielding his eyes against the morning glimmer, Kain studied the full plate man glaring down upon him.
Standing, the youth gave a curt bow “Good morning to you good sir” Kain dusted the snow off him best he could, relieved that the innumerable days in the wilderness had not stripped him of all social grace.
“Ithraelle’s tits, one would think the sodding snow would keep out the riff raff” the gruff man adjusted his open visor.
“Much apologies sir, however I beseech you fair passage to the city as I have found myself separated from my companions for many a day” Kain lowered his hood in an attempt to be less suspicious.
The armored man grumbled an inaudible curse, “Squire there, whatever your name is. Check this boy for weapons and contraband. The good duke would not leave a lone traveler to freeze to death”.
Walking out the gate, the armored man pushed by Kain with little care for the youth’s wellbeing. Reining in his anger to the unwarranted mistreatment, Kain awaited the squire’s approach.
As the squire patted Kain down for any hidden weapon the crimson youth looked jealously at the gambeson. More concerned for a comfortable, insulated garb and a warm broth than the current security check. The crimson youth nearly tore the rascal’s head off as the thieving squire pocketed a gold coin. Closing the rucksack, the freckle faced man smirked at Kain. Taunting the boy to raise an objection.
“Follow me, I’ll guide you through” said the thief.
Grinding his teeth the red hair picked up his lightened sack and complied.
Slighted, the youth stomped through the snowed in streets. As he calmed the youth regretted his tantrums for not acquiring about the city’s layout. Pausing, Kain took in his surroundings. The buildings spread forth in an orderly fashion, stepping up levels after levels as the systematic streets thinned out of sight. Taking his current appearance in consideration the crimson boy distanced himself from the better off denizens. Shuffling through the ankle deep snow, Kain scanned the sparsely populated streets. Smell of freshly baked bread upon the wind sent his stomach grumbling.
Smacking some sense back, the boy approached a young man shoveling snow. Greeting the greasy man, Kain asked “Say sir, where might I find an inn”.
Looking the red haired boy up and down, the lanky man spat out a mouthful of tobacco “Come again”.
Scowling, the crimson youth rifled through his bag, throwing a silver coin to the man “Inn, where”.
Pocketing the coin, “Aye, straight till the green roofed building. It be a fair walk, not too long. Make a left, you’ll see a two story building with an elk sign after a bit more” the man replied.
Nodding, Kain walked off, hoping he did not just get conned like some rural buffoon.
‘Wanddering Elk’, Kain read the sign. A sad excuse at filigree writing, By Kuualdir, is this a joke. The youth stepped within the wooden building, an oddity amongst the stone sawed constructs surrounding it. Hood hiding the wild crimson hair Kain made his way through the packed tables, nary drawing any attention. Standing before the bar, a mustached man approached the youth. The squat, very short man addressed Kain.
“No handouts here, show me coin or out with you”.
Looking at the wide man, a head shorter than himself, the crimson youth remained speechless.
“Humph, never seen a beardless dwarf before? Speak up man” the dwarf stroke his overly twirled mustache.
“I wish to board sir” said the boy, drawing some attention as he lowered his hood.
Crossing his arms “Five silver a night, one for meals. Morn and eve” said the dwarf.
Glancing at the mite eaten boards, Kain twitched at the offer. “Twenty silvers for a ten day, including meals and a daily bath” replied the boy.
“Ha!, don’t be absurd boy” said the dwarf as he took in the youth.
“Then I shall find business somewhere else. Many thanks for the hospitality sir” Kain turned to leave.
The dwarf’s brown gambeson rustled as he quickly grabbed the red hair’s shoulder, “By the ten. You drive a tough bargain”. Signing, the air tossing his long whiskers about, “This is what I get for leaving behind the stone” mumbled the dwarf, “Fine, take a seat. I’ll bring ye key after the meal” he added more audibly.
Finding a quiet corner the crimson youth set down his rucksack, barely held together after the hard travelling. As he got comfortable a kindly middle aged woman served the pauper looking youth, a steaming beef soup accompanied by a loaf of bread and watered down ale. Having taken time to enjoy the meal, Kain went upstairs to his room. An iron basin of warm water and a clean rag waited within. A bed, a roof above my head, and warm cooked food a singular tear ran across his stoic face as Kain undressed.
Slightly more presentable the crimson youth bounded downstairs. Spotting the hearty dwarf tending the early drunks, Kain approached. Sitting upon the wooden stool Kain tracked the wood grains upon the countertop as he waited to be tended.
“How’re you planning to fleece me this time” asked the dwarf.
“Bottle of liquor and conversation” asked the crimson boy.
Grunting, the slicked haired dwarf reached for a cloudy glass bottle. Placing the bottle and a cup before Kain, “Vodka, it’ll be fifty coppers” said the dwarf.
Kain slid two large copper coins to the squat man. Uncorking the bottle, the boy poured himself a fill. Not as tantalizing as Adron’s fine brews the aspiring alcoholic appreciated the thick essence of vodka. Gulping down the cup in a single motion, the youth refilled.
“Aha, a man after me own heart” smiled the dwarf, “Lets converse away” added the dwarf as he took a bottle for himself.
A few minutes of silent conversation later the dwarf procured fresh replacement for another round.
“So youngling, what ye called” asked the rosy cheeked man.
“Kain, sir. May I enquire yours” replied the crimson youth, warmth spreading throughout his person.
“Enough with the niceties. Name’s Thaldrick” the dwarf took another gulp “So what do you want’a ask”.
Matching Thaldrick, the youth drank his fill “I wanted to inquire directions to the nearest mercenary guild branch”.
Breaking into a laugh the dwarf nearly choked, “You mustn’t be from here” Thaldrick filled his cup “The duke evicted all mercenaries from his duchy. Was his first edict actually”.
The duo drank into the night, dwarf accounting for all of the youth’s drinking despite his own inebriation.
Sulphur infused every breath, ash and soot coating all about. Taking a step forward, kindling cracked below feet. The crimson youth wadded through the endless cataclysm, thin shadows needling the horizon. Forging through the billowing haze Kain reached one of the lithe figure. A gust blew, baring the surrounding clear to the youth. Before Kain lay a forest of burnt corpses, what little left of their visage frozen in wrenched horror. Refusing the dread vista Kain fell to his knees. Cracklings resounded as the squirming boy cupped his head within a vice grip. Pulling away, the crimson youth finally saw what he trotted upon. Crushed bones and burnt flesh.
With a bound the youth awoke in cold sweat. A shiver ran through Kain, singular moon peeking between the curtains. The boy slip into his less patched shirt, strapping the worn leather jerkin before draping the well-travelled cloak.
Weaving through the layers, gentle snowfall wiggled their way to warm skin. Irritated, a chill bit at the youth. Mage lights illuminated the streets, steady and even to an unnerving degree. Mindlessly strolling in attempt to clear his head the boy passed stone buildings after stone buildings. The constructs seemingly identical, only changing in cleanly demarked thresholds. The night was well and truly dead, not even a drunk tumbling the seedy corners within view.
Having lost any and all measure of time the boy slunk into the darker regions, his dark disposition searching for the embrace of nothingness. Instinctively his eyes slit, dispersing the shadows as the endless days within the wild took over as. For what felt like an eternity Kain snaked the alleys, avoiding what scant few gatherings he spotted into the distance.
Catching motion in his periphery the red hair halted, pulling his cloak closer. Cocooned in darkness Kain leant against the wall’s edge, observing two figures looming over another. Curious, the boy could only watch, gathering winds deafening the exchange. Catching the prostrated individual by their collar, a standing figure dragged and shook the poor soul. Prompting meek gestures, followed by scathing laughter that pierced the hale.
Aslena’s teachings compelled Kain to assist the victim. Since he could remember, the priestesses would always remind him that the goddess of purity and patroness of knights would never bear any cruelty. However, past events had woven shades of grey into the boy’s mind, shaking his faith. Making to leave the three to their own devices, Kain watched as the victim fell to the cobbled ground. Blood soaking the soft snow.
Unsure why the youth tailed the murderous duo. Thankful that the elements hid his presence, stealth having never been his forte. Turn after turn found prey and hunter weaving the grid streets. Eventually, the meticulously residence gave way to more haphazard construction, clearly much older than the city proper.
Kain hugged the shadows as his quarry fiddled with a set of weed covered gates. Key finally finding its mark the pair stepped into the overgrown yard, eagerly making their way within the poorly maintained manor. Putting logic aside Kain allowed instinct rein. Standing before the rusted gate, nails shifted into wicked claws as red scales flared outwards, stopping just below the youth’s chin. Lowering his hood golden eyes shone within the night, red hair played by the frosty winds. With a swipe of his hand the rust flaked lock fell down in pieces.
With a thud, the steel lined double doors flew off its hinges. Stepping through the portal akin to a spawn of Nhik’vox, Kain studied the defaced hall. Packed in every corner, all manner of thugs and hooligans turned to the intruder. The room fell to silence, before breaking into an uproar as all shouted into a chaotic discord.
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A gruff man approached Kain, his putrid breath preceding him. Baring cold steel the squatter threw the scabbard aside. Sinking into battle sense the world slowed to a sluggish crawl. The crimson youth studied the sword as it arced along the overhead swing. Concentrating, tiny wisps thrummed throughout the naked steel. Background arcane energies, which the boy had learnt all manner of entity possessed regardless of their mundane appearance. Inches from his face, Kain reached for the razor sharp blade. His motion suddenly halted the assailer pulled at his weapon. Unyielding, the weapon held fast within Kain’s scaly grip. Fear finally setting in the fur wrapped man released the hilt, dropping to his rear as he scooted backwards. Squeezing the free weapon steel bent and contorted, before the blade shattered in half.
Not a soul stirred, dread flushing the host. Chuckling to himself Kain walked towards the curving stairs, deliberate and with purpose. Surely, the leader does not mingle with the common rabble thought the boy. Turning to the sudden threat Kain observed as a bolt left its crossbow. Mundane. The heavy bolt tore through soft cloth fabrics. Quarrel shaft snapped from the force of the impact, naught but a faint chip across red scales attesting to the projectile. Kain grinned at the offender causing the man to bolt for the entrance, disappearing into the dark.
Dam burst, the residents all but climbed over one another to evacuate the abode. Looking upwards the red hair pondered as half-dressed men and women held onto the railings. Drawn weapons shaking within the grasps of some as others curled, praying to whomever would listen.
Purposely Kain dallied up the stairs, claws drawing flakes from the brass railings. Spotting a man in gold lined silks the youth made for his mark. As the death’s very emissary passed them, all within his wake tore for freedoms sweet allure. Taking note of his marked status the silken man dove within a decadent room. Kain upon his heel.
Entering the bedroom Kain scanned about himself, spotting a door ajar from the brighter lights seeping through. Pushing the well-oiled oak doors a rush of danger flared. Dropping into a roll the air rushed above Kain, an orichalcum tipped ballista bolt embedding itself within the stone wall, sending the marble finish flying apart. Fucker has a ballista in his study! Pouncing like a feral animal, Kain landed atop the man. Clawed hand perilously coiled around the trembling man’s throat, the other lifted high, poise to shear flesh and bone.
Leaning closer to the pinned leader’s ear the boy whispered “Gather your men” his youthful tone never registering within the incontinent man. “I will return in three nights” a claw drew a trickle of blood, earning yet another spasm “No business will occur before then”. Another claw tasted blood “Do not earn my ire, you and your ilk serve me now”.
Then just as abruptly as the storm rolled in, the terror left Hans’ headquarters without preamble. Calming the torrents that was his thoughts, Hans never realized that the red demon had pilfered his pouch of gold from atop the desk before departing.
Backtracking to the ‘Wanddering Elk’ Kain thumbed through the cold, gold coins. Why he did any of what had transpired was beyond him. None the less it felt exhilarating. No longer would another rule above him, no longer will he bend to another’s whim. He would helm his own path from this point forward, the world that abandoned him would provide. Willing or not.
Three days past, the crimson youth returned to the Old District. Four moons illuminated the night casting aside near all shadows. As ever the five celestial beings were fickle, denying any would be scholar in predicting their glorious cycle. Fur lined coat topping fine leather and velvet cut an impressive image. Sadly ruined by the near six feet cross tightly wrapped in dark linen strips the youth shouldered.
Crossing the manor yard Kain noticed two sentries before the hastily repaired doors. The guards cursed their faiths at being within the night’s frosty embrace. At least they learn the boy thought to himself. Granted entry the red hair lowered his hood. Dark blue eyes studied the capacity filled hall. Gaggle of equally fearful and curious tracked Kain, all rooted to their location. Stopping at the base of the stairs Kain turned to the crowd, “Hans” he called. Quickly the clean shaven man shuffled up to the boy, but a step behind as Kain made for the wiry man’s room.
Taking the dominant seat at the study’s desk, Kain leant the concealed great sword at his side. The eight and a half pound weapon weighing down the crimson youth no more than a knife. “So Hans” the boy placed the blade atop the clean desk, “Did you receive my note” slowly unravelling the massive blade Kain appreciated the intimidation factor of the sword.
Hands overly animated the man replied “Ye…yes”. With a gulp Hans steadied himself “I had your ultimatum sent to the Bloodhounds yesterday”.
I’m surprised how easy it was to acquire information about these gangs. How in all hells are they still operating… the youth broke out his inner monologue as he realized the man was still talking.
“…Sir” asked Hans nervously.
Standing, the red hair hoisted his comically oversized weapon “Gather the men and do as planned”.
Akin to a wraith, Kain strode the cobble streets of the Old District. Naked steel upon his shoulder and sixteen armed men but a few paces behind. None dare utter a word as the group twined the erratic stone buildings. Weaving through the small town, detached but within the majestic city, Kain arrived before the grand walled manor. Located in the district’s center, the manor was a sight to behold even ravaged by time and disrepair.
Motioning for the ‘Shadow Fall’ to hold Kain approached the twelve feet gate, perfectly in line with the stone wall. Inhaling deeply Kain sunk into battle lust, snow fall all but unmoving before him. Drawing his full might the boy kicked the solid steel obstruction. Cobblestone shattered beneath the planted foot as his right sole battered the obstruction. Leaping through the buckled gates Kain was met with a volley of crossbow bolts. Barely maintaining his balance upon the slick grounds Kain twirled the great sword awkwardly, deflecting the projectiles.
Seeing their attack fail the twenty crossbow men fell behind ranks. In sync, three dozen pike men fell into formation. The curved line encircled Kain, creating a killing ground. Trapping the crimson youth within their range, with but the contorted portal offering escape, the warriors thrusted in unison. Again, Kain twirled his overlong weapon, both hands upon the hilt to offer optimal control. Spinning in a horizontal figure eight, the great sword caught offending thrusts after thrusts. Wood chips and metal heads showered the yard as the blade cleaved and shattered wooden poles.
Comfort of their longer ranged weapons rend asunder, the warriors unsheathed their side arms. As one the throng stood their ground. The red hair took a step forward. In kind, the group rippled as they inched backwards. Parting the sea of flesh and steel, Kain strode through the offending line unmolested. None in the mass having the courage to engage the fiend in melee.
Before the boy stood a man in full plate.
“The fuck you’ll doing” screamed the man “Attack!, its but one short cunt”, spitting in disgust he added “Fine you dick-less sods”.
Lowering his visor the Bloodhounds’ leader gripped his halberd, lowering into a more stable stance. Cracking the earth Kain charged his foe. Meeting the blur before him the armored man lunged to meet Kain. Inches before the halberd’s point Kain slammed his left foot into the ground, shifting his weight to the right leg Kain spun inside the man’s guard. Coming out the twirl, the youth brought his sword upwards. Exhaling, Kain slammed his weapon atop the helmet before his foe could recover from the thrust. A deafening symphony rang across the open yard, the blade laid shattered having dented the helmet inwardly by an inch. Slumping downwards the Bloodhounds leader lay motionless. Neck having given out under the intense blow, killing the man instantly.
Back turned to the gawking crowd Kain bit into his lower lip, drawing blood. Steady now. This is the path you have chosen the youth reprimanded himself. They want a monster. Give them want they want Kain held to his crumbling mind, suppressing the guilt noosing about his heart.
Minutes passed as the boy stood before the slain man, steading his breath as he attempted to justify the execution. To the Bloodhounds thugs though he appeared as a wraith gloating over its kill. Wiping his bloody lip Kain turned to the mass, grief having drawn the golden slits. Unawares of his transformation the youth uttered.
“YIELD”.
His forced tone further painting him as the villain. On cue the Shadow Fall entourage arrived, no resistance were offered as Hans and his men bound the larger group.
Leaning against the walls near the entrance, Kain caught concealed movements within the manor. Faint light seeping through the glass windows being snuffed one after another. With a cough Hans bought the crimson youth’s attention.
“We’re done binding them” the man shuffled beneath his coat, vain attempt in keeping the persistent snow at bay.
“Good” Kain straightened “Have the Bloodhounds elect a new leader”.
Hans’ eyes darted from side to side, his hands restless.
Signing, the red hair asked “Out with it”.
“Uhm...sir, what if any oppose” replied Hans.
“Eliminate those that don’t fall in line” Kain pulled his hood low, hiding his disgust at himself “With the Hounds assistance, your Shadow Fall will consolidate the Old District”. Before the man could object Kain added “Any within the Old District not serving in a ten day”, blue orbs shifted to golden slits “I will handle personally”. The boy slinked into the night, not trusting himself to further inquiry.
Dawn found the red hair back at the Wanddering Elk. Coming through the doors Kain locked eyes with the dwarf.
“Someone been enjoying the nightlife” beamed the dwarf, “So who’s the lucky la…” the jovialness flowed out Thaldrick upon seeing the youth’s countenance.
“Are the Adron whiskeys in” asked Kain. The dwarf grunted a positive nod. “Bring a case to my room” the youth added as he dragged his steps.
Over the next seven days Kain spent every waking moment drunk, drowning out the nightmares. By the eight he found his wits. Steeling himself, the youth drew out his future plans. An occasional drink to numb any emotions that threatened to derail his thoughts.
The tenth day heralded a blizzard, the tempest lashing at the crimson youth’s furs. Turned around twice Kain braved the storm. Bloody winter. The youth finally arrived at the Bloodhounds’ mansion, no sentries on account of prevailing weather.
Winter’s shrill eased as the carved oak doors closed behind Kain. Not but a single soul stood within the vaulted hall.
“Good evening Master Kain” approached a young woman, faint blue dyes of her winter wares easy on the eyes. With a gesture the attendant relieved Kain of his coat, snowflakes rolling off the soft fur coat. “I hope the journey was not too unpleasant Master” the supple woman hung the coat upon a polished wooden hook, swirling engravings mesmerizing to the observant.
Barely audible a groan escaped the crimson youth.
A soft smile graced the attendant’s visage, “If you would be so kind” the woman took the lead, Kain but half a step behind.
Silence prevailed as the pair walked at a sedate pace, unsoiled carpet making for light foot falls. Faint mage lights peppered the manor, the odd candles and lamps seemingly meant for naught but ambiance. A faint cough brought Kain out of his musing.
“We have arrived Master”
The attendant rapped gently on the double doors. But an instance later the heavy doors open, “You may leave” announced Hans. With a curt bow to Kain, the woman made for depths unknown.
“Good evening Sir” greeted the man almost sheepishly, stepping aside to allow the red hair entry.
All gazes shifted to Kain as he entered the room, three of the four seated studying him keenly. Swiftly the youth took to the great stone table’s head, awaiting patiently for Hans to take his place before an utterance. The Shadow Fall leader seated, eyes darting to all about him before abruptly stopping upon the red wraith. Defying the chill a bead of sweat snaked across Hans’ brow, crumbling as he was under the piercing glare.
“S… Sir, these are the leaders of the Old District” said Hans “All others have entered the fold under our leadership, and the rest have left outright” the man ended with a gulp.
Satisfied with Hans’ answer Kain leant deep within the cushioned chair “Very well” the boy crossed his fingers, resting his chin upon them. “I’ll cut straight to point, you will all maintain a certain degree of autonomy. Open hostilities between one another will not be tolerated however” Kain let his words sink in, his face a mask of indifference “And as the leader of this merry little group” the youth paused for effect “A third of all profits will be paid to me as tribute”.
A crash resonated through the room as the blonde woman to Kain’s right hand side stood fuming, her chair toppled from the outrage. A thin wisp of a smirk curled upon the red haired youth.
“Is a culling in order?” asked Kain.
Biting unto her lips, nearly drawing blood, the woman retook her seat.
“Edmund I believe” Kain asked to the well-built man on his left “Congratulations are in order, Bloodhounds’ new head”, eliciting a grunt from the man. “You are to cease and desist all mercenary activities” the youth drummed the armrest gently “By the ten, how your gang has remained active after directly insulting the Duke is beyond me”.
Edmund shifted where he sat, self-deprecating smile plastered across his face.
“The Bloodhounds will turn to racketeering” Kain sight roamed the host “No one is to target Edmund’s clients, do I make myself clear”. Everything going to plan so far thought the boy. “Hans will be my proxy” Kain glowered over the wiry man, blue orbs transforming unto golden slits surprising the three newcomer. “Do not disappoint me” added the boy before leaving.
A gentle knock preluded the attendant’s entry to the meeting room, “Master Kain has left the premises Madame Alva”.
“Thank you, prepare for our departure” replied the seated brunet.
As the doors closed a blur whistled across the void as a dagger buried within Kain’s chair.
“Calm yourself Lisa” said the bald man besides Hans and Edmund, looking upon the re-toppled chair of the blonde.
“That’s Lady Summerstill to you!” replied the woman.
“Now, now Lady Summerstill—” started Hans.
“Shut it you spineless rat!” Lisa turned her attention to Hans “I will hear nothing from a boot lick” the woman slammed the stone table “Lasvarii take you. We see how you bend to the brat’s every word”. Taking short breaths Lisa added “I will handle this personally, the sprouts days are numbered”.
“Easy now Summerstill” intruded Edmund “You were not there that night, I would not push my luck in your shoes”.
Crossing her arms Lisa scoffed at the tall man “For all his pomp and circumstance, this Kain has killed but a single person”, sneering at the Bloodhounds leader “Feluniir would be disappointed” added the woman.
Bursting into motion Edmund was upon the woman before any could react, pinning the slender noble to the ground.
“Do not question my faith cunt” Edmund said through clenched teeth.
The bald man placed a firm hand onto Edmund’s shoulder “Enough, let us remain civil”.
Having dissolved the violence he offered an arm to the downed noble. Lisa slapped the open palm away, “I do not need your help Hammond” the woman caressed her bruised neck as she regained her feet.
Slowly returning to her seat Lisa turned to the last member, a seething hate creeping to the surface as she watched the young woman refilling the crystal clear wine glass. The rosé releasing a sweet fragrance as it swirled.
“And what say you Alva, surely a sorceress of your caliber would not play second fiddle to a child” the noble poked gingerly at her swelling neck.
Taking a tentative sip Alva replied “Why do you assume we would be worst off under the child’s rule”. Alva raised a hand, preemptively halting the noble woman’s rebuke “Hubris would be our downfall, it behooves us to be patient and observe”.