Vengeance for Vigo
We made good progress up the cold face of the Peak. A landing of sorts, a deep cut in the cold stone, was a good place for us to take a rest on the climb. No one wants to get altitude sickness before a fight. After another day of hard clambering through cloud, sleet and frozen fingers, we arrived at a large cave opening which looked out at the breathtaking vista of deep, snow covered valleys far below. My hunter’s sense told me this was the place; the bones which lay scattered about the outside of the entrance, half buried in snow and rubble, helped as well. Ithela lit a torch as we edged our way into the cave. “That went as well as it could have.” I told myself while silently giving thanks for Ithela’s expert guidance.
As we delved deeper and deeper the cave split many times. Descending down here, twisting into a cramped tunnel there, but the way ahead was marked by the occasional discordant bouncing echo of a bestial sound. The noise was unlike anything I had heard before. The Ironlands held many monsters compared to the desert plains of the Old World. As the volume of the shrieks increased, an acrid taste came to my mouth. Was it bile, or just naked fear? I couldn’t tell you which.
My blade made a dull sound as it slid out of its leather scabbard and I pressed myself against the cold, jagged stone of the cave wall. My eyes shot back at Ithela with my finger to my lips and motioned for her to lower the torch, I couldn’t have her getting confused at a time like this.
“We may be able to sneak up on the beast,” I whispered and edged carefully forward.
We rounded the last corner towards the high-pitched, scrapping grunts. A wide smile, like I was about to open a birthday present, unconsciously played on my face. The creature lay prone while its chest rose chaotically. The scene looked child-like except that where the child would hold a rattle, the hideous beast held the mutilated hind quarter of some unrecognisable prey animal. What a day for vengeance. In my peripheral vision, bathed in the shallow torch light, other remains were strewn chaotically about, some of it was distinctly human shaped. The time it took to clear the wall of the den’s entrance to standing over the grotesque ‘child’ felt like an eternity. My feet took what purchase they could on the smooth stone floor. The beast’s hot breath was a stinging attack on my unwavering eyes as I glared down. And struck.
The creature’s cat-like eyes shot open as a screech of pain blasted around the den. The beasts throat gurgled and a cascade of blood gave the off-white fur a darkened hue. It moved to strike but its prone position left itself open to another enraged thrust of my sword. The beast rolled across the floor, stood up off to my side and recklessly charged. Swiftly I prepared my sword to parry the immense claws that swung down from high above my head. The lumbering attack knocked me out of the way, but didn’t end the fight. I thought I heard a snap in my arms as they struggled against the otherworldly beasts strength.
We clashed yet again, with my sword slashing over the thick hide of its abdomen. As I pulled away, I was keenly aware of the burning, crippling feeling overwhelming my off-hand shoulder. Pain shot through my it as my arm failed to respond. Ithela saw this exchange and fumblingly threw a large femur bone at the back of the beast, striking it in the base of the neck. “Over here you shit! Come try and chew on some dried up hag he he he he,” she yelled. The beast turned, distracted by the other intruder. My heart cried out in blood-drenched joy at the opening she had presented me. I pushed my advantage, I turned the tide.
“Come on!” I screamed at myself. Where my blade should have eaten flesh it just flew through empty space. The beast lumbered towards Ithela who awkwardly waved the torch in her clenched hands as if she was trying to scare away a house cat. Her face quickly withered to fear.
“Ahhhhhhhhh…” From between the behemoth beasts legs I saw my mother crumpled upon the floor. A faint cloud of breath was the only indication that she still lived.
Her unconscious body reached out and grabbed my heart so tightly it stopped moving. The rushing blood, the pounding pulse of adrenaline that had been overpowering before was replaced by silence. My mind saw so many things at once, Ithela helping Vigo and I draw a bow, Ithela scolding us for stealing, Ithela crying over Vigo’s body and Ithela watching me as I charged towards this fate. I had been blind to what I still had in pursuit of what I thought I needed.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” came out of my mouth like an avalanche whose crash was amplified by the surrounding mountains. I had to steady my legs as the beast moved assuredly towards me. With what seemed like overconfidence the it carelessly attempted to crush my head into my body once again. I stepped inside this hammer fist move, so close I could have ripped out a chunk of fur with my teeth, and drove my sword deep into the beast’s belly. It was time to end this. The cat eyes were wide as they looked to me, then to the sword lodged in its belly. Ignoring the shooting pain from my shoulder, I drove the blade deeper. With a final pained breath, the hideous thing fell with a thunderous crash to the cold stone floor.
I ran to Ithela and grasped her head. With my cheek to hers, I felt her breath as meek as the brush of a reed. “Well mother, looks like we need to spend a little more time here than we thought we would. Best to hole up here the night and make our way home in the morning yeah?” It sounded like I was convincing myself of something.
In the dead hours of the night between unbidden sleep and bleary eyed wakefulness I searched around the remains which littered the floor like a midden. There it was, discarded as if it was a meaningless trinket. An iron ring on an iron chain. Black, dulled and beaten with age. Even though it was cold in my hand, a warmth spread through my body. With my eyes closed I felt it rest on my chest. Where it would stay to remember my brother, Vigo, for every coming day.
Groggily and with painful movements I awoke with that cold iron necklace still clasped in my hand. A pair of familiar eyes stared at me from across the way. “Well, I think I may have underestimated my heroing ability there Sibi. Next time, can you take those duties upon yourself?” That smile was worth more than any trophy could ever be. We gathered what we brought with us and left that foul grotto without a backwards glance. Homeward bound.
At least, I thought we would make it home. We were slow to traverse down the mountain, our wounds and the frenzied weather up here on top of the world would be fatal if we rushed back. After about a half day descending hand over hand, it happened. The hard pounding of falling rocks, a scream, and then my mother tumbling past me. A scream stuck in my throat as my eyes followed her rag-doll body fall. I raced, desperately, down the mountain face, heedless of danger to myself. She was lying there on the snowy rock face, her back arched unnaturally over a stone and her eyes were closed, unconscious. I knew that if I didn’t aid her immediately, she would not make it. My pack hit the ground and I ripped it open. “Herbs, bandages, ANYTHING!” My mind was frenzied as it tried to shut out the creeping dread. “Shit!” is all that came out of my mouth. I had resupplied, where were they? I watched, useless, as my mother’s life slowly ebbed away on the frigid cliff face.
“The crows!” I shouted aloud. Surely they could help me, give me a sign, perform a miracle, ward the Keeper from this lonely mountain. The bones rattled to the ground and words incanted with the most desperate pleading to ever come from me but they never came. I waited for an eternity up there, days crouched next to her body. Hoping for a miracle. They never came. Maybe it was fucking fate that I lose both my family members only days apart, maybe I’d made this fate myself.
That peak was meant to be a journey of vengeance, but it had doubled my sorrow. As I gave silent vigil I heard her reply again and again to my offers of help, “”If I take your help now, means I’m done for anyway. I won’t stand for that now, my little Sibi.”
I learnt a very valuable lesson that day, revenge is a master of itself and our human fate in the Ironlands all ends in the dirt. After I teetered near the edge in a hunger induced daze I realised it was time to move on. She was too heavy to carry, she would be buried here, overlooking the mountains and valleys of the Hinterlands. The land that she loved so much. Here in the Ironlands the rites had to be performed for all people. If you were not properly buried, you would rise again as a horrific abomination. No matter the dispute, no matter the animosity, no Ironlander denied these rights to another. The Ironlands had some kind of force, a magical power within the earth, which twisted humans upon death. The elves, for their part, were immune to these effects.
The clink of hard dirt chipped into my only digging implement, my sword. It was a shallower grave than my mother deserved but it would not be disturbed up here. I gave one last prayer to her and ,knowing she would not return to this earth in undeath, my spirits were slightly buoyed. However, the journey back, and life going forward, would always weigh heavily on me.
Once I descended far enough to join the trees the way home opened up for me. It was an easy trek home. I hunted a little, adding some furs and fresh meat to my empty hands and lonely self. No rambling about Vigo and I growing up, no complaining about the lack of children’s squeals in Mournhill. I would have taken all of it now. I was angry at myself for ever having had complained about it in the past. My brother and mother were both dead. Where did my path lay from now on?
I snuck into town and headed straight to my home. I needed some time to think and the space to do it. There would be too many questions about what happened up there. I didn’t feel like punching people in the face who felt that my mother’s time was due. Where would I go now in this savage land, alone.
RPG Downtime 