Demon(#Wattys2017 Entry)

Chapter 6:Home

The home of Black Griffin was a simple fort. From afar, it had little to distinguish it from other forts. Up close, however, one could see the intricate carvings on each plank of the fort;The laws of the warband, one carved onto every plank. It was bordered by the Coldwoods, the vast forest that was always blanketed in snow, and the home of the Eisen.

Fortunately, The Devil had been friends with many villages nearby, who had sworn oaths to defend against any unwelcome visitors, making the eastern border of the fort almost invulnerable to attack. It was small, made of old planks and mossy stones, and many of the huts surrounding it were not quite large enough for the families they housed. But,to the members of Black Griffin, it was home.

They were lead there through the woods by Vaussten, who was the unofficial tracker through the woods. "Only makes sense,you know. He was raised here." Reba said as they traveled.

Guiltare, who had heard the tale many times, nodded in agreement.

Vaussten had wandered into the woods as a young boy, orphaned by a war in his homeland. He had been discovered by a small village and adopted by their village elder, to be raised alongside his own son; Guilta, the boy who would grow up to be The Devil.

He had proven his worth early with the discovery of his power. While The village had relied on fire to melt their streams for water, he had been able to melt it with just a touch. His offer to do this again whenever necessary, as well as his admitted 'weakness for silver-haired women', had lead to him spending much time in the woods, even after he had grown and joined Black Griffin.

One such woman had joined from a nearby village, listening intently as he described his journeys. Giles heard her giggling, even from far behind the tracker. "Whatcha think they're talkin' 'bout, eh?"

Gem sighed,signing to him. "Trust me, you don't want to know. Having my hearing can be a curse sometimes."

Giles laughed. "While we're on the subject, your wound doin' alright?"

In answer, Gem lifted the shirt of her uniform. The wound inflicted by Xethe had been neatly stitched tight with needle and thread. She started to lift it more to show further evidence of her skill in stitching, but Narra gently pushed down on her hands for sake of modesty.

Giles shrugged. "Good ta see...but Y'know, me or ma could always just bind your wounds shut. Save ya a few scars,eh?"

Gem made a face and spat on the ground, signing. "Denying a warrior her battle scars? I'll have no part of that, thank you very much." She grinned and pat her stitch, ignoring as a few droplets of blood stuck to her fingertips. "And this one is going to be niiice!" She signed, making the sign for 'I' several times in 'nice'.

Giles blinked in surprise, then looked at Reba. "Huh...you were right ma. Chicks do like scars, eh?" Reba narrowed her eyes. "Don't call me 'ma'!" She snapped.

Guiltare saw the fort and took the lead, walking towards it. She was soon overtaken by Morz, however, who moved surprisingly fast, considering his size and cloak. He ran to the river, grabbing a short, blond-haired woman and lifting her into the air. He remained silent, but the woman laughed brightly. "Hello to you too, dear!"

Narra smiled and ran over beside them. "Hi mama!"

Morz' wife, a short woman with a few streaks of grey in her otherwise golden hair, smiled warmly. "Ah, thank goodness. I think I'd have wasted away if I had to go another day without your cooking." She smiled, crinkles appearing in the corners of her eyes.

Morz nodded, taking the hint."Come then, I'll cook you something." He said.

Guiltare managed a small smile and shook her head. It always amazed her how he would always appear gruff and disinterested, even when he spoke to his own wife. Still, she always sensed a certain tenderness in the words he shared with his wife that was absent elsewhere. Perhaps that was because she was one of the only people to have seen him beneath the cloak.

She walked to the gates of the fort, looking at the beam above. Charred into the beam was the paramount law of Black Griffin, which every member was taught from their first day.

"Never Dishonor, Never surrender,
Kill all your foes, tear them asunder,
Never a survivor, unless to strike fear,
This is our creed, which we shall all hold dear."

She sighed. It was a code of conduct for soldiers, and it inspired good traits among them. Brotherhood, loyalty, diligence.....And cruelty. While some preferred 'never dishonor', more preferred 'Never a survivor', and practiced this on the battlefield, slicing down any and all who stood in their way. This way of thinking was what had caused the dominance of Black Griffin in the mercenary field.

She nodded to a few of the soldiers wives and children who bowed as she walked through the street. It always made her uncomfortable to be treated with such reverence. She was, after all, just a general.

One of the wives walked forward. "Uh,p-pardon me, my lady. Y-you may not remember me, but, uh...Three months ago, you saved my husband's life. Av'rasca, he was an advance foot soldier." She nodded, remembering.

Av'rasca was a Deena man, who had charged into battle against a group of mages. They had set up magical traps, set to erupt in flame when pressure was applied. The battle had been won, but many traps had been set off. Guiltare had ended up offering her horse to carry the wounded to safety. The first man that horse had carried had been Av'rasca.

The woman smiled."Well, recently...he held our little girl for the first time, so...Thank you, so much." She looked past her to the shade. Av'rasca smiled, holding a small bundle in his arm. His long bronze hair hid most of the burns on his face, but there was little to be done about the rough hewn wooden leg that had been strapped to what remained of his leg.

He waved."Hey boss!" He said cheerfully, not even minding his wound. He looked to his wife."Hold Mi'lada for me, would you?"His wife nodded and took the child. The soldier stood, saluting."Thank you, lady Demon."

She managed to avoid blanching at the nickname others had given her and nodded."Just keep recovering, and that will be all the thanks I need. Good men are in short supply these days."

Av'rasca grinned brightly as she strode off."Ma'am yes ma'am!"

Narra was at the main house, a medium-sized wood structure with a few battlements installed as a last line of defense, the home of the Black Griffin general. She sighed, scrubbing away at the door. She looked over, gesturing."The things people think they can get away with when you're gone!"

Someone had written a simple message on the door;Murderer. Narra nodded."Apparently, a Sawaln man heard of the massacre and came here to send a message."she reported, scrunching up her nose."Only tomatoes this time, thank goodness....said he used rotten ones 'for the decayed corpses of my comerades'. Crazy people these days, right?"

Guiltare looked at the door, at the bits of rancid food sliding down the planks, at the faded letters that Narra had wiped away. This was not the first time people had managed to vandalize the keep, and it would not be the last. It was simply the cost of being seen as a cruel mercenary. She sighed."Home sweet home."She muttered, walking inside.