Legends of Belariath
Garoakh Sharpfang
Appearance:
The wolven is 2.59 meters tall and his muscular body is covered with dark-grey fur, fading to black on his back and lighter grey on his chest, where his black skin shines through it. His dark eyes seem to be awake, constantly observing his surrounding. Big claws with black sharp nails , almost able to grip the Head of a small human in one palm, are never far away from the grip of his weapons. Besides a black shoulder belt, that carries the sheath for his sword, he prefers carrying dark-grey fur Boots, and short dark grey fur pants, as his only clothes, for his own fur protects him from cold nights more then enough, and don’t constrict his movements, as an armour would do.But occasionally, when a fight is to be expected, he wears a black leather armour, that covers his chest, his upper arms and his upper thighs.
Character Background:
Over twenty years ago…
Flames… and smoke.
Smoke of burning wolven tents, smoke, that makes it almost impossible to smell the blood of the slaughtered ones, fills the nose of the wolven woman…
Her face lies in the mud, her breath causing the small puddle to tremble with every breath she takes. A breath that is going weaker from second to second, because with every pulse life leaves the slumped body through deep wounds in chest and back. But the woman is calm. She feels cold, although she lies just next to the burning tent where she gave life to her son just hours ago. She can barely feel the pain that the arrow in her back should rightfully cause. She feels nothing anymore, but the warm feeling that her son is safe. And that… is the only thing that counts.
As the arrow is pulled out with brute force, just with the cruel intention to torture her a little more, her numb body cannot feel it. Her eyes can barely make out who turns her around. But she can guess, and she smiles the smile of a player, that just came to know, that she had won.
The hated voice trails already far away, not cool, not controlled… but furious… and furious… is good…
“They are all dead Ghaira, the whole tribe, I just thrusted Vhachs Head on a spike for all to see… so where is his bastard child, the one that should have rightfully had me as his father and not… him. Where is it? TELL ME!“
But the only thing left for Shraokh Nightclaw is the smile on the lips of his former mate.
A few months ago
A burning fireside, pieces of wood are thrown into it by the hand of a small human merchant with a thick beard. Then he lies down next to the fireside. Next to him sits a small blonde halfling woman, dressed in green and brown leather clothes. Opposite to both, staring into the fire, sits a tall wolven, tall even for his kin.
…
“How old have you been?” the merchant asks
“7 Years, almost 8…” the wolvens low, dark and male voice answers.
“It is horrible to lose your mother in that age”.
“Foster mother…”
“She told you already, when you were still a child?”
“She insisted that I knew were I came from. She said that my mother was a great person, and that she deserves that I know about her…”
“You must really hate the humans now…”
“No, you know… like us all, they can be good or bad and most of the time they are both. And… they wanted revenge. They just didn’t distinguish. Many were killed by a wolven pack that time, and there was a general hate towards wolven in Armarrah.
Most wolven had realized that already, and left the country, but Harrakh was a scout of the duke of Darkcrest, and one of his best. Harrakh was without a pack, and so it was easier to take her, instead of a wolven pack, which could possibly be the one that was causing all the problems. Rather take the old wolven woman than the strong aggressive wolven, that could kill you, so to say.”
The wolvens voice had become a rather sarcastic undertone as he says that.
“We thought we would be under the protection of the Duke. We had a paper, that identified us as servants of the Duke, and that anyone raising a hand against us would be sentenced to death. And so it was, the peasants who killed her, and me almost too, were sentenced to death afterwards. But that didn’t give me back my foster mother either. Dead is dead, as I remember her saying from time to time. And according to the peasants: If you are not able to read, a paper does not threaten you…
But I was given a home beneath the humans, and grew up there, and in that times that didn’t go without saying.”
“Was it hard, to live beneath us humans?”
“hard… well in some kind of way it was... I was a wolven, and growing up in a society that hates… well not particularly who, but what you are… well yes, it was difficult. Not being accepted feels always hard, especially for a child “
“How was your new family?”
“Oh they… they were miners, and they dug for iron ore in the nearby mountains. They… were not particularly delighted, when the Duke came to them and ordered them to feed another mouth, especially not a wolven, who was… in fact… two mouths, if you understand. But they accepted. “
“Did they have another choice?”
“Well, they surely felt they hadn’t and so the first year was… miserable. “
“But you are a strong wolven, you could have helped them with the work in the mines…”
“Yes, that’s why my relationship with my parents got better within the next year. I mean first i was able to work in the mines, but you can’t do that when you become more then 2 meters tall. But they always needed someone to push the carts around that left the mine, and so that became my job, that is to say… until…”
“Until?”
“Well…I had become 13 years old some days before, and was working at the mine, taking full carts from the mine, and returning empty ones you know… , as suddenly dust darted out of the dark mine entrance. As a miner you know what that means… some corridors haven’t been properly supported, and they had collapsed. 10 Miners had been in the mine that day, and my foster father and my brother were some of them. It took us 20 days to take out enough rubble, to get to them, and I had worked day and night, with barely a rest, but finally we were just able to recover the corpses.”
“I am sorry…”
“You shouldn't be. Mining disasters happen. You live with that risk when you work in a mine. But that day I became the bread-earner of he family. There was only my mother Adhaena left, and her two Daughters Maraestra and Gwynheria. But the salary of a mere helping worker, and I couldn’ t be more for I was much too tall for the mines…, it’s not sufficient, as you can probably imagine. So we began to starve. It was a hard time. Then one day, when things were really bad, I went to the sword in the rock…”
“A sword in a rock… how was that related to your situation?”
“Well, not far away from the city, there was a mountain, with a sword in it. Just the grip was protruding from it. It has been there for longer then people can think of, or so goes the say. But never ever was anyone able to pull it out of the stone. And so it was left there, and with the time the people had lost interest in it. I had heard rumours that hundreds of people had tried during the centuries, but none prevailed, and so no one had tried for a long time. Sometimes people that wandered by, pulled on it, but not seriously, just like a Tradition: Who passes by the sword has to try to take it. You know… Like you touch pictures of saints that you don’t believe in. But never ever anybody was able to pull it out of the stone. But to me…it was a sword, and it would have some value. My family was really bad off, and we could have really needed the money that time. So I planned to take it, and sell it at the weapons trader. Nobody was taking it seriously, I thought, and so when I would take it, nobody would miss it either.“
“And you pulled it out? ”
“Not exactly… You know… I thought… You can either remove the sword from the rock, or remove the rock from the sword. And for I was foster-son to a miners family… I decided for the latter option… During one night, I went to the sword, and used pickaxe, hammer and chisel to crack the godsdamn stone open. And that worked pretty fine for me. It still wasn’t dawn, when I left the place, and went home, the sword hidden in some cloth, so nobody would see it. I planned to sell it the next day, but it never came to that.”
“What happened?”
“The next day the Duke came to the family, and demanded to take me with him. He wanted me to become a scout like Harrakh, my first foster mother. But for I was the bread-earner, he paid my family off, and gave them some land to cultivate. “
“Why couln’t he find another Scout for himself” the halfling woman asks.
“I am a wolfen you know, and for dukes like the Duke of Darkcrest, scouts and rangers with the nose of a wolfen are quiet valuable. In case you hunt a prisoner. I had been trained by Harrakh, to survive in the wilderness till I was almost 8, But still hi had much to learn. And I learned to read. The Duke said that a good scout should be able to do so, and so he demanded a teacher for me, to teach me reading and some etiquette. I suggested later, that he did so to show me off on his hunting parties, so I wouldn’t leave such a bad impression with his guests. But the ability to read was well worth it. It opens up a whole new world to you.
“Hmm… Armarrah… hasn’t there been this terrible civil war?”
“Yes… stupid story… it started after the old king died, for he was heirless. No sons, no daughters. And the people just couldn’t figure out a new king. Suddenly everyone wanted to be king, and there was no way to tell who would be the rightful one. At that time I had just turned 21 and was still in the service of the Duke”
“The way you pronounce: at that time…” the Halfling woman asks.
“Well… Things went bad very quickly. The war raced across the country like a bushfire in the dry steppe. My Duke was one of the first who fell to the men of Gerold of Longbrook, who was the Duke of Blackwood. Gerold was one of the three possible usurpers of the throne. After several months of civil rioting and fighting between several nobles, he, Lady Kwyn of Waterdale and Ardar of Lake Gwyndoch were the only ones that had defended their claim for the throne.
“So…What did you do after her was dead. Return to your family?”
“It wasn’t that simple. The war hadn’t stopped at their doorstep. Yes I returned home, but as I reached it, it was pillaged and burnt to the ground. There was no sign of my foster mother, or her two Daughters…just the cold ashes of the ruins that had been my former home.
“Didn’t you search them?”
“Of course I did. But where to start? it could have been soldiers, it could have been bandits… I went to the place nearby, where I had hidden the Sword that I have taken out of the Stone years ago. It was still hidden by the rubble that I used to cover it. So I had a sword, but no liege to serve, and I didn’t want to leave Armarrah before I found my family, or what was left of it. So I became a mercenary and joined the army of Gerold of Longbrook.
“The one who killed your old liege?” the halfling woman asks startled.
“He didn’t kill him. It was war, it were his men that did it. But yes, I had the same bad feeling about him. I should have listened to it…”
“What happened?”
The wolven stares into the fire again, his face is serious, his mind obviously remembering painful things. Then, after inhaling the cold nocturnal air audibly, he raises his voice again.
“Well…”
5 Years ago:
“Well then you are…Garoakh Sharpfang?”
“Yes Sire.”
The dark furred, considerably older wolven, sitting behind the old wooden desk, showed an attitude in every part of his gestures and in his, due to an eyepatch, one-eyed gaze that said” You are just a minor chore I have to deal with, nothing of importance.” And “You wouldn’t like it if I become interested in you:” Well… as far as Garoakh was concerned that was ok, for this man was the Chief Interrogator of Lord Gerold of Longbrook, and the stories that were told about the prisoners… What was his name? Shraokh Nightclaw? He really didn’t wanted that this guy… showed any interest in him… Of course Garoakh was nervous, but that was because he had been informed just yesterday, that the Chief Interrogator of Lord Gerold wanted to talk to him. And when you get such an invitation, suddenly everything you did in the last years becomes something… traitorous, even if you just “kept your ears shut” while being on watch, so you “wouldn’t hear” if some of your comrades steal away to have some fun with the girls in the city…
“You know… I once knew a Sharpfang too… but that was long ago, in a place far, far away. Well… take a seat, I want to ask you some questions”
“Yes Sire.”
“Have you ever heard the name Adhaena Hammersmith?”
Garoakhs eyes shot wide open, as he heard the question… “Yes…, Yes… Do you know her, do you know where she is?”
The older wolvens gaze raises from the paperwork. “I ask the questions, you answer. So you have heard about her, and it is true that you refer to her as your mother?” His gaze returns to the paperwork.
“Yes, I do Sire, but please, if you know where she is…”
“You know that she can’t be your mother. She is a human, you are a wolven. Would you explain me how does it come that you refer to her a your mother?”
“I…I…” Garoakh was so surprised by the fact that his foster mother was probably still alive, that he needed some time to gather himself. Then he answered.
“She is my foster mother. My second. My first was Harrakh Ghost-is-Hunting”
A change went through the behaviour of the older wolven. He had been staring onto the paperwork up to now, not even raising his head, while posing questions, obviously to show a lack of interest that was probably not there, but could lead Garoakh to say things that are probably not thought through entirely. But now his head raises slowly.
“Did you just say Harrakh Ghost-is-Hunting was your foster mother?”
“Yes Sire. I was given to her by my real mother when I was barely one day old. But that has no importance for Adhaena. She doesn’t even knew Harrakh. The Duke of Darkcrest gave me to my new parents after Harrakh was killed by a mob…”
The older wolven raises and accompanies Garoakh to the door. But before opening it he turns to Garoakh and says:
“I‘ve heard everything I wanted to know. I am sad to tell you that Adhaena Hammersmith died in our cells this morning from the consequences of interrogation. But it will please you to hear that Gwynheria, who, according to the terms that you used, is your sister, is still alive.But she is held here too under the suspicion of treason”
“Can I see her...please? “ Garoakh asks
“Of course you can…” The wolven answers while opening the door. And, while turning to the four Watchmen that were guarding it, he adds“ …and you will. Captain, take this wolven as a prisoner! He will be charged for treason, obviously we fed a spy of Lady Kwyn of Waterdale in our Army. But this has an end now.”
Days later.
Or weeks?
It was so damn difficult to tell the time in that hole.
When you accept the role of the Bread-earner, of the protector of the family, there is no turning back. Probably it is something primary male to think like this, but you just can’t. Garoakh felt the chain, that bound him to the wall, the pain it caused at his wrists. He felt the Hunger in his stomach. Every now and then somebody came and left some food, mostly a mash, and some water, but sometimes bread too. But never enough… it was obviously part of the torture. But most terrible: He knew that in some cell in the prison there was Gwynheria, his, well… sister so to say. They didn’t share the same blood, not even the same race, but he was responsible for her. In the time after Mr Hammersmith died, he had cared for the family, and they had bond, even accepted him as a family part, they called him son…called him brother… He hadn’t felt such feelings since the death of Harrakh. And so they had really become his new family. And it had been really hard to leave them, but with the money from the Duke, the money that he could earn as the Dukes scout… He just wanted that his new family could live without worrying about the future, and where they could get their next meal. And now… Probably he could have protected them, if he would have been there. Probably…
And slowly, very slowly Garoakh could feel the growing wish that somebody would come with a heated spike or something else to begin the torture. The uncertainty, when the interrogation would begin, was almost unbearable, far worse than the torture he would have to undergo, or so he began to think. And still they hadn’t told him why he had been arrested. Well, yes… treason. But no one had told him particularly what he should have done. But that could have been part of the interrogation too. Garoakh wanted it to end. And mostly he wanted it to end, because he didn’t want to feel guilty anymore, guilty of not being able to protect his family. He didn’t know that it would come far worse. Otherwise he wouldn’t have wished for it to come so soon…
Then, one day...The cell door opened, and Lord Gerold of Longbrook and Shraokh Nightclaw entered.
Gerold was a small blond man with a considerable amount of eyebrows,But small doesn’t mean much for every person smaller then 2 meters was small related to Garoakh. He wore a long velvet cloak and some fine gloves, made of silk too. He had barely entered as Garoakh started to plead:
“Sire, Sire… I am innocent. I never did anything like treason. You must believe me this is…”
“shhhh, sshh” the Lord said…”I know… I know…”
“You know… but why am I in here? “
“This… oh this is a personal matter between you and Shraokh Nightclaw. He just told me that you are innocent, but that he needs you to get this bitch, that you call your sister, to talk. You know… We know that an attack of Lady Kwyn of Waterdale is near, but we sill don’t know where she will attack. And we are running out of time. So here is the deal. You will go into the cell of this woman… what was her name again?”
“Gwynheria, My lord” answers Shraokh.
“Well.. whatever. She and her mother were arrested under the urgent suspicion of being spies for Lady Kwyn of Waterdale. You will enter her cell, rape her and break her will. For you are so close to her, she will surely break when you do so, and then tell us everything that we want to know.“
“And you will make it terrifying for her, I will watch you.” Shraokh adds. “If you don’t, or if she doesn’t talk… you both will die a horrible death. But you will have to watch her die slow and painfully first. I can make a body stay alive for several days. Trust me… She will suffer. So… did you understand?”
“Yes, Yes I understood… But no… i… just can’t do this… I mean she is…”
“She is not even of your race you idiot.” Shraokh shouts. “But I am happy that you feel so much for her, that makes it even better for me…”
“Why? Why me…? What have I done to you?”
“Oh, you exist. I will tell you now a little story about your origins…You are the bastard son of Ghaira Hunts-with-the –Ghosts and Vhach Sharpfang. But Ghaira was my female. After she became pregnant by this traitor Vhach, they fled our tribe, the Silverback, and searched cover at the Moonstrider Tribe, for I was the Alpha of the Silverbacks. Well I found out where they hid out, and came over the Moonstriders with my men. We burnt their whole tents down, and killed every Moonstrider in the tent village of the r tribe…and your father and your mother too. The next winter my Tribe hadn’t had enough men for the Hunt because of the casualties during that battle, and so the Silverback Tribe abandoned me too , for I had led them into that situation. And so I lost my tribe for nothing, for you were still alive. Your parents had expected it, and they tricked me. And now I knew how. They gave you to Harrakh, who wandered our lands during that time. She was a lone wolven you know, without a tribe, but she was a little famous throughout the wolven of the north, and we let her. As you told me your name was Sharpfang, and that she was your foster mother… I only had to add 1 to 1 and so… here I am. I had already given up the hope to ever find you. But then you turned up, right before my very eyes, and the only thing I had to do… was charging you for a treason that you never committed. And no one will believe in your innocence, for I am the Chief Interrogator…It is my Job to pick out the traitors…And it will be so delightful to see how you rape that bitch. I mean… She means nothing to me, but much to you… and that is the only thing that counts…”
This was too much. Here he was, the murderer of his parents, and he was going to force him to rape one of the few person that were important for Garokah on this very world. Garoakhs gaze turned to Lord Gerold.
“Sire, you know I never broke my word, you can’t just let this happen can you?”
“Look, I know that you are a good soldier, and this is worth something to me. But sometimes you just have to bring some sacrifices to reach a more valuable target. And we really need to know where this attack of Lady Kwyn will happen. So imagine that you are doing it for… my country will you?”
And while turning to the door, Shraokh Nightclaw adds.
“Or you can look at it as the opportunity to rip through the very bonds that bind you to that damn family, and become a free wolven again … .So it is rather a fortune that we met don’t you think Garoakh…”
The metal door shuts, and to Garoakh… the heavy thudding sound that it makes, announces the end of the world.
Still today can he hear her screams, her begging for mercy, her pleading And it follows him into his nightmares…like the gleaming in her eyes that vanished, the day she finally broke.
Back at the fireside, a few months ago:
“By the gods…” The halfling woman said. Sometimes any more words would be futile.
“She was no spy of Lady Kwyn. Just a barmaid, she worked in the bar that was frequented by some of Lady Kwyns spies And that was all. But she would have admitted anything to let it end. To get rid of the presence of the monster that she thought I was. Lord Gerold and Shraokh were well aware, that the informations they had gotten from her were utterly children of her own mind, but that didn’t stop them to sentence us to Death. Everybody has committed something. And The Lord of Blackwood, and his fellow Inquisitors… They don’t do mistakes… And of course Shraokh insisted to kill her right in Front of my very eyes. But he told me, that he wanted me as his “plaything” first, and that the execution would be at the end of the winter, that had just came over Armarrah.“
“But you were rescued were you?” The halfling women sits upright in front of the fire that was dying out slowly. Her arms were slung about her knees, and her gaze lies magnetized on the wolven as she asks further. ”I mean you are here now. You managed to flee with her, did you?”
“One day… Shraokh came into my cell, and told me that Gwynheria had conceived, but couldn’t stand the thought of being pregnant from the monster that she thought I was. And so he said that he was sad to inform me that he must have lost a knife in her cell “accidentally” the day before. They found her corpse the next morning, her wrists were cut by her own hand. And he even asked me how I feel now that I knew that I drove my sister to commit suicide. And then he threw a knife in front of my feet, and obviously he expected that I would follow her. I think… the thought that I was broken, and hopeless, and that I would take away life from me by myself… this would have satisfied him even more than seeing my body hanging at the end of a rope. And so I took the knife. I still have it…”
Garoakh takes out a small knife, and shows it to his two listeners.
“It is the same knife that Gwynheria used to commit suicide. And if I ever have the fortune to find Shraokh… this will be my weapon of choice, to cut his throat”
“But you didn’t use it. What happened.”
“I intended to use it. I was so close. But … call it fate. That very night Lady Kwyn started to besiege the castle, I was imprisoned in. And so I gathered hope, that I would come free, and be able to take revenge on Shraokh. The attack was an utter surprise for Lord Gerold, and so he fled into the mountains with some of his fellow men, including Shraokh. But now that the luck was gone for Lord Gerold, the men deserted one after the other, and Shraokh was one of the first who left him. Lord Gerold was caught two weeks later, hiding out in a small mountain cave with his last two servants.
I meanwhile was set free, for I was imprisoned for being one of Lady Kwyns spies. What I never was, but I surely didn’t tell her men. I got my belongings, that is to say my sword and my clothes, back, and began to track Shraokh, but the trail was already cold, and at least he was a wolven, and knew how to avoid being found. “
“But it led you here?”
“No. I decided not to sacrifice my life for seeking revenge, even if he is a dead wolven, if he ever crosses my way. I was led here for I found out what happened to Maraestra”
“Your second sister?”
“Yes, the younger one. She, and Adhaena and Gwynheria were captured by bandits, and sold for slaves. I found out the slave trader, to find her track. But only Gwynheria and Adhaena were sold to the owner of the Inn, in which they were working, when the men of Lord Gerold came and arrested them. Maraestra was sold earlier to another slave trader from Nanthalion. And that’s why I am here.”
“Revenge is something that you don’t seek. For if you do… it seeks out you” the merchant says, before a yawning leaves his Throat.
“Very right,… very right. Your sword… it doesn’t look any magic” the halfling woman asks. She does not seem to be tired at all.
“Well… it can do cobblestone magic…”
The merchant giggles. Obviously tired, but that joke already had a beard.
The halfling woman didn’t know it.
“Never heard about that…”
“If you hit somebody with it… it hurts” the merchant adds, and continues: ”Well… the fire had almost died out, and we have a long day tomorrow until we cross the borders of Belariath. So I would suggest to sleep now. Garoakh, will you take the first watch?”
“I will… I will”.
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