The Bastard

The Watchers

Northwest of Fang and northeast of the Great Desert of Skulls, just at the edge of Zardani territory stand the two mountains known as 'The Guardians'. These two silent sentinels are not home to any clans, septs or gens and even the tribes of the Odsier shun the place. The small mountains, mark the beggining of Hel's Maw territory and are deeply rooted with ancient history of the Zardani.

He rode out until it was dark before making camp. He didn't risk a fire. And to be fair after the blazing hell of travelling the desert it seemed he could tolerate the cold for longer.

He didn't know much about the place. He had been warned to skirt it if possible, but somehow he had ended up here anyway. He ate some of his dried rations before laying down, gazing at the night sky, pulling the wolf sky over his body he pondered what his next step should be.

Stram had heard about the war in the Plains in his travels. The surviving Odsier tribes were holed up there in their summer pastures. Licking their wounds after their defeat at the hands of Ostiarium. He cursed the Empire and what they stood for, with their war machine and their gluttonous gods. He had known it was only a matter of time before they claimed the land for themselves. He imagined that espite his hate for the Empire he would not survive long among the tribes. So he would travel into Hel's Maw. Maybe settle among the raiders somewhere. The traitorous cur Tarmen flashed in his mind for a second and he prayed to Slivikhi that one day he had the chance to cut the tongue from his corpse.

He didn't know the history of the place he was in. It was called 'The Watchers', and the way between the two mountains was named 'the path of beggars'. He didn't know anything about the old lore or legends but she knew.

He heard her song even before he saw her fire, dozens of metres up the road. The voice that carried over the wind seemed to be coming right next to him as if a loved whispering, calling, drawing Stram to find whoever was singing into the cold winter night. There was an appealing and alluring quality to it and an edge on the deception and danger but intriguing none the less. What was a woman doing out here and singing none the less.

Stram stood up and walked towards the camp of Kara Mei... He didn't know the story of this place but she did. And before the night was over she would tell him all about the Beast from the Deep, Zaraie and the Bastard and how their tragic story will change the face of Arcadia forever...