An Age of Wrath - Chapter I

I

Wolves of the Red

Beneath the warbling shadows of ancient trees and rolling meadows, a menacing fleet of armored wagons drove. Their gigantic wheels dug deep into the dirt pass as hearty horses clopped in low, sallow tones. Banners in red, dressed with the black face of a viscous wolf snarling cruelly at a black sun fluttered gingerly despite itself. Dark, dirty faces sat driving the wagons. Men they were, though they appeared more like trolls of malcontent; hunched over and gripping onto the reins of their horses with massive, scarred hands. They were covered in dingy, black cloaks, and ragged leather cowls. Their faces said nothing but disdain for the world around them.

They were mercenaries.

The banner of the Wolves of the Red had not been seen in the countryside of My’Dian for over three years. They had been outlawed by order of King My’Dek, who responded to the wishes of the noble class who had been reeling over the constant threat of robbery by the many passing mercenary groups. Yet as the notorious group of outlanders traveled across the fertile land, they feared a reproach from neither king nor law of land, for the Wolves of the Red on this particular occasion were invited.

Ravendorn the Red was the leader of the small mercenary company that specialized in tracking, sabotage, and assassination. He was generally a quiet man himself; never saying anything that did not need saying. He was called the Red for his large red beard that hung with beaded gems and a few teeth from noted fallen enemies. His head was bald, save for a braided tail that hung two feet long at the back of his scarred scalp. He was a powerful man, with massive hands that were known through out many lands for killing without aide of weapons. He was feared by many, and that included his own men.

Beside Ravendorn sat Kallus. Kallus was a loyal man, much smaller than Ravendorn but just as shrewd. He was second in command and an advisor. Kallus was also several years older than Ravendorn, though they had known each other since they were both young men before their second age. Kallus had a full head of long mangy brown hair. It too was beaded at parts with gems, though he wore no teeth in his hair, as that was the sole trade mark of his leader Ravendorn. He wore a patch over his right eye; he had lost his eye in a scuffle with a rival mercenary group ten years back. It was a fight over little more than egotism.

Dolus of the Zumanarth Mountains and Bishop who was known as the Rabid Monk sat beside Kallus. Dolus was a giant of a man with a great yellow beard and blue eyes that were common among the savages of the north. He was very well natured, despite his slow wit.

Bishop, the Rabid Monk was a slight wielder of the arcane arts, and was very handy when not completely intoxicated. Despite his moniker, the Rabid Monk was nothing of a spiritualist; rather, he was fonder of the fairer sex, gambling, and of course – drink over any of the teachings of the Father-Mother. In his younger years he was said to have been in monastic training within the holy lands of Kalzef before he disgraced himself with low morals and driven out to the Waste, a barren land were he was certain to die.