Reckoning

Barren Top

Wurm looked at the notched axe in his hands and felt sour.

He walked over to the entrance of his tent and reflected on the desolate surroundings. He had always hated cold Barren Top with its craggy icy mountains. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel dour.

It was raining. The kind of slow rain that made one feel cold in your bones. The wind had dissipated most of the morning mist away and he could see further out than he had in days. He saw something in the distance, or rather someone.

It was the figure of Mayfly. Mayfly was a creepy brute with broad shoulders and scared features. The man's camp was a few days walking to the south. He had once been a reaver among Hel's Maw pirates.

He heard the water behind him roiling over the firepit and poured some of the boiling liquid in his cup already packed with a handful of nettles. He grabbed his flask and poured a generous about of firewater into it. He returned to the entrance of his tent looking at the approaching figure.

As Wurm stepped outside and Mayfly came closer, he could see the crazy smile on his face.

"The call has come." Mayfly bellowed, in a growling tone. He slammed his fist against his chest and arms trying to get some circulation going and the cold out of his limbs. His pelts were soaking wet. "The Sand Horde marches to the East, towards the Stone City. They are offering gold to any warrior that joins their ranks."

Wurm looked back, frowning and still fingering his notched axe. "And the others?" he asked.

"Just waiting on your decision." Mayfly said. "Plundering and slaughter the like Arcadia has not seen in centuries." He grinned flashing his yellow stained teeth.

They looked at each other with grim determination, like two glorious, giant rams, in mating season. Wurm knew one day Mayfly would challenge him.

Wurm studied Mayfly's pale scared face. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "The Spirits call for Blood." he said as if the statement was answer enough.

Mayfly looked up to the sky and grinned, he rolled his shoulders and howled lifting his spear high.

Wurm opened the flap of his tent and beckoned the brute to follow him inside .

Tomorrow they would join the others. Tomorrow they head out to join the Horde. Tomorrow the Bloodletters would go hunting once again.