CHRONICLES

Founding of Clan Char

                Eyvinder’s clan were well skilled, both in weapon and elemental use. As they approached the territory of their neighbor and enemy, they moved like silent shadows over the desert sands. The scouts of Henrik were attentive but not nearly enough so as advance scouts appeared out of seemingly nowhere and pounced on them, slitting their throats with one hand clamped over their mouths. As they neared local herd, one dying scout managed to cry out a warning before he was cut off with a sharp thrust of a spear into his gut. The solitary cry was enough, however. The enemy warriors roused quickly, grabbing their weapons as they ran forth to defend their food and families.
                Eyvinder surveyed the scene with a dark smile and raised his spear, shouting, “To fight!” The cue given, all of Eyvinder’s men ran forth and engaged with the enemy, clashing dangerously close to where the other clan had pitched their huts and campfires.
                Char went forth grimly, doing his duty to his people with a single-mindedness that involved focusing on his fighting techniques and not the look of horror in the young man’s eyes in front of him as Char’s warhammer crashed with the unfortunate warrior’s ribs. Char didn’t even check to make sure the enemy had died – as soon as the man hit the ground, Char moved on to engage another warrior. A quick glimpse around him showed that Eyvinder’s clan had utilized their advantage of surprise well and they were steadily beating the other clan into submission. At this point, there would be no simple plundering of the local herd and sneaking back. This was a pitched battle for far more.
                As the number of enemies began to dwindle, the men set about to grabbing whatever they could carry. Many simply went and raided huts for already prepared and salted meat to carry back, while others began to drive the wild oxen back towards their own territory to be hunted at the clan’s leisure.
                Char was resting, taking stock of his wounds, few as they were, and watching the mayhem about him. Various sounds filled the night – the cries and moans of the dying, the braying of frightened oxen, the shrieking of women and children – coalescing into a single cacophony of survival, death, and battle. One woman’s sudden scream cut above the rest, an abrupt soprano cry that made Char’s head whip in the direction it originated. He saw clearly Eyvinder, outlined by the increasing light of fires as some of the huts were being burnt down, chasing a solitary woman who shooed two small children ahead of her. They could not run as swiftly as their pursuer and so the woman stopped unexpectedly and whirled around to face the man. Eyvinder snatched her by the wrist and jerked her, as though planning to drag her back to his clan. Rather than meekly submit, she struck him a blow, slapping him across the face with a crack that even Char could hear. A quick smile sprung to his lips until he saw Eyvinder throw her to the ground and drive his spear through her chest. This time her scream was not one of anger and fear but of pain and death.
                Anger burned in the pit of Char’s stomach but he made no move to stop his clan elder. She was just one more casualty in this bloody raid, and she had struck the elder. Though Char felt she was entirely justified and that Eyvinder had acted far too harshly, he was ready to turn the other cheek like so many times before until he saw what unfolded next.
                Rather than return to his pillaging of the clan, Eyvinder maliciously strode forward and caught up with the two children that had not gotten very far. The young ones, though frightened, had stopped only a short distance away to watch the fate of their mother and had wailed piteously at her death. Now they attempted to flee again but Eyvinder caught them with ease and speared each one as cruelly as he had done to their mother.
                Some things are simply inexcusable.
Char picked up his warhammer, growling and heading for Eyvinder. He noted that the elder seemed to still have his bloodlust up and was now pursuing another fleeing woman. She tripped, and he crowed with delight as he pulled his spear back for a killing strike. Char lunged forward and grabbed the end of it, pulling. The strike went astray and the terrified woman managed to escape. Eyvinder spun around, throwing a punch at Char, but the skillful warrior managed to weave aside of it.
                “Leave the women and the children alone, Eyvinder!” Char snarled, bringing his hammer to bear as Eyvinder fell back a few steps and brandished his own spear. “They are frightened, and what sane person wouldn’t be? They aren’t even armed, for Erif’s sake! They pose no threat!”
                Eyvinder spit and wiped a smear of blood off his cheek, remnants of the last victim he slaughtered. “Are you defying me now, Char? So openly? Ha! I always knew you were a traitor. You stink of it. If these cattle are afraid of me now, wait until they see what happens to the men who spit in my face. WARRIORS!”
                Char blinked in surprise as he found his clanmates suddenly surrounding the two, though mostly ringing around him. He looked about warily at his clan-brothers and began to move around in a tight little circle as he realized that they had cut off all chance of escape as silently and swiftly as they had for this clan. Most of these men were his friends, but none of them held mercy in their eyes now. Only sorrow, fear, and remorse. Unspoken were the apologies that lingered in their faces as they brought their weapons and signs to bare.
                While it might be pretty to think that Char fought valiantly and singlehandedly turned aside all challengers, the reality was that while considerably valiant, Char fell to the onslaught of so many opponents. Beaten, bloody, and barely able to stand, Char could only close his eyes in resignation when he caught a glimpse of Eyvinder’s exultant, almost rapturous countenance while his mortal enemy raised up his spear.
                Then there was horrible, agonizing pain. Then darkness. Then nothing.