A couple o' days had past, and the mood o' the swamps had turned something rotten. Barad Dhorn was lost to the Eglain, along with a couple o' good crews. Dunlang had been on the war path ever since, and Brulk reckoned himself lucky to have avoided him for the most part. Unlucky enough to be sharing a campfire with one or two on the receiving end o' Dunlangs claims, but lucky all the same. Today, he reckoned, that streak o' luck was about to come to an end. He'd been called to Dunlang's chair.
"Sword." came the voice of the guardsman, his voice more an echo than anything. Brulk thought for a moment about arguing, but reckoned against it. Those being the times, and all. He unbuckled his belt, and handed it over. The guard, some fella' Brulk hadn't seen 'fore today, gave the faintest o' nods and gestured him into the reed house. That fuckin' smell.
She stood there, lurking like a shadow beside Dunlangs chair. He had a black look about him. Dunlang had a reputation for giving black looks, but something o' this one gave Brulk's ear one hell o' an itch. "Chief." He nodded, twitching his eye over the second woman in the room. Similiar to Temair, though Brulk reckoned her more human. She wore the tattered afterbirth o' a fine dress, burgundy and a shade o' blue Brulk wasn't too fond of. "Brulk.." Came his voice, ashen and distant. "You don't see, do you Brulk?"
"Chief?"
"You don't see the future o' our tribe, Brulk. You dont see it, and your lack o' sight cost us the fight."
Brulk's eye twitched, and his ear burnt something chronic. "We fought 'em chief.." shrugged Brulk.
"Fought 'em?" Barked Dunlang, jerking forward from his chair. "Fuckin' fought 'em? You lost us that South wall. You and that fuckin' hero o' yours! Lost it like a child down a Norborg pit.." His voice had turned down to a growl, and Temair placed a hand atop his. He settled back into his chair, a snarl stretched across his face, as his witch stepped forward.
"Your Chief speaks the truth, young warrior.." Her voice came like a maidens kiss, but Brulk knew it was laced with poison. Something rotten about her, more'n likey worse than those she brings back from the dirt, Brulk reckoned. "You're eyes only see half a truth, but fear not young one fore you eyes shall be opened by our lessons." Temair smiled over her shoulder, and the second woman stepped forward. "This is Lesburr, a Faithful of my flock and a true daughter of the Crown." She too had a smile set upon her lips. Brulk wanted to reckon it a fake one, but somethin' about her told him it was true. "She shall teach you to open both eyes, child." Temair stood to Brulk's left, Lesburr on his right.
"Reckon that crew o' yours are ready for a job?"
No, half of 'em are wounded and the other cursing the name o' your fuckin' witch. More'n likely we'll be down to just Me, Teeth, Mulk and Khelem by end o' the week.
"Aye, Chief." Brulk felt the words slip from his throat. "Whats the issue?"
