The Raid -DE Short story

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    • The Raid -DE Short story

      Originally posted in the DE forum, before I found this page.

      Hope you enjoy the read.
      *Comments and feedback welcome.*

      The Raid

      It is said, that in ancient times
      When the gods were young
      they demanded sacrifice from the Dathen.

      First from the soil
      then from the herd
      and then from the folk

      As their power grew, so did their appetite.
      And so the Dathen would adapt.
      First they raided for appeasement.
      But soon they raided for necessity.

      And so the stories about the Dread Elves were born.

      The muted sounds of the sea and the wind drifted into Raekoths cabin.
      The crew moving around on the deck of the Silvered Hand barely noticable
      as they hurried while doing their tasks.
      A low knock on his cabin door pulled his attention toward First Hand Daecros as he stepped in. ’The Vanguard has been put onshore by the Corruptor, we make landfall in half a Bells time.’
      Sitting up from his bunk, Raektoh turned to Daecros, ’Stirr the rest of
      the ship so they have time to prepare. We need to move fast if we want
      to make the most of this opportunity. Has the Caller started her
      preparations yet?’
      ’Yes, Reaver, she has been awake for the last bell.’
      Daecros turned then and left to wake the rest of the crew.

      A few moments later, Reaver Raekoth of the Silvered Hand, Fleet commander
      of the Kirah tower stepped onto the deck of the ship. All around him
      there were preperations for what was to come. He could see the busy but
      muted activities of veteran soldiers as they sharpened their weapons and readied their handbows for the raid. In one corner he could hear the muted blessings from a cult priest
      of Nahb, steeling his devotees for the harvest that approached, while
      on the bow sat the hunched figure of Caller Eshtera as she maintained
      the thick fog that hid their approach. Even if it was before dawn, there
      was security in being covered, and if the town had any guards on watch,
      they would get the few extra minutes before they realized what was
      going on.

      As he stood there, he could see the faint guide lights of the two other ships in the group. The Corruptor and their Captain Kaeltor, with their hold filled with eager riders. Specialists in harassment and capture of fleeing
      targets, they had a nasty reputation for precise execution and no
      remorse. And on the other side he could see the Grasping Hand, a
      harvester ship, designed to carry a heavy load and with a big, flat
      front ramp where they could quickly move their harvest onto.

      This was all his effort, he knew. If not for his reluctance to let go of
      the old traditions, there would be no one to defend the Tower once
      their enemies arrived. Wallowing in decadence, politics and deceit, the
      socalled council of Kirah tower would probably just as soon surrender if
      they were attacked, rather than fight back as any proud Dathen should.
      There was little left of what once gave birth to these human’s name for
      them, the Dread Elves.
      Grown fat on trade and debauchery. But not Raekoth or his host, no.
      These were his fellow disillusioned. His kinsmen by heart, and they had chosen him as their Reaver. Their Fleet commander.
      It was with a sense of pride that he stood there, draped in his Kraken
      cloak as First Hand Daecros came up to stand next to him as the ship
      came into view of the town.
      ’The crew is ready, Reaver. The sail is down and our final approach has begun.’
      ’Good. Join your squad. You will be the first to hit land and the glory shall be yours this day, my friend.’
      Standing in stunned silence for a moment, Daecros quickly gathered his
      wits. Saluting, a fist on his chest, before he turned around and
      rejoined hos squad to share the news.

      How long had he been doing this? Daecros could almost not remember a
      time where he had not raided under Raekoths command. 200 years? 200
      years and this was the first time he had earned the right to lead the
      charge down the ramp. His blood was boiling in his veins as they slipped
      into the harbour towards the town. Finally it was his turn to show what
      he could do. Finally it was his time to shine and take the glory for
      himself, maybe even earning his own ship.

      A few moments before they made landfall, the alarms of the town started
      ringing. But it was too late. The three ships were already inside the
      harbour, covered by Eshteras impenetrable fog. As the ramp hit ground,
      Daecros and his squad ran down it. This was it, now was the time for the

      A sharp snap was heard, and Daecros toppled forward, a quiver to his back.
      ’The first person to bring me the governors head will be my new First Hand! Now attack, and harvest!’
      A wild roar erupted from the corsairs as they charged down the ramps.