1 The Old Raider (1)
Volume 1: Kareen Raider
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Violent coughing sounds are coming from the other side of a sturdy wooden door, and a young woman's voice shrieks, "Haalfrin! You're sick! Get back in bed NOW before I bash your head in!"
On the other side of the thick door is an old man hunched over on the side of his bed – struggling to put on his own miss fitting armor, as it had been made for him in a time before his bones had shrunk and his muscles shriveled with age.
There is a young woman with dark skin and black, wavey hair standing on the side of his bed with a worried look on her face as she sees the old man wheeze and puffs painfully in his struggle.
Finally, the girl can't stop herself anymore, so she puts down her basin of water and implores, "Please! Elder Haalfrin! You can hardly lift a rock above your shoulders anymore! You need to rest!"
Old Haalfrin just waves her off crankily, "Bah! I'm off to join the others! It's sweet mead and roasted lamb's leg for me! … Fetch me my sword, will ya? It's underneath the bed."
The girl's father used to tell stories about Elder Haalfrin, and he was always made out to be a man whose chief virtue was bravery and reason – a trait seldom seen together.
The teenage girl tries again to stop the elder, but age must have made the old raider even more stubborn than her father remembers.
"I haven't swung a sword in so long," Elder Haalfrin argues back with his heels dug in the ground, "I've been antsy for decades! I'm meant to be out there with the boys, swinging my sword and shield!"
Seeing he isn't going to listen, Haalfrin just huffs, "Enough! I've had enough of sitting on that stupid bed, doing nothing but battling frail health and weakness until death finally wins!"
The girl Reeda hadn't seen the old man rant for this long in a very long time, so she knows he's VERY agitated.
When young Reeda sees the old man struggling to bend down to get his heavy sword, she tears up a little and finally offers to help; she quickly bends down and grabs his heavy sword for him and helps him straighten his back again.
"Thanks, girl."
She sniffs back a tear. "If you were grateful, you'd get back in bed and drink your medicine."
He takes the sword from her and looks at her without that previous stubborn attitude. Then he abruptly hugs her, saying, "If I'd had a granddaughter, she'd have been just like you. Thanks for making me take my medicine every day."
The clan raiders are getting ready to set sail today, and Reeda has a strong feeling her old mentor figure won't be coming back.
Just as she's trying to hold back her tears, Haalfrin says, "I got a chest of money beneath one of the loose stones in the fireplace. It's my life savings, and I'd like for you to inherit it. The house is yours as well."
Haalfrin then slings his sword onto his back, and he leaves the house as the girl behind him is bawling her eyes out with the door wide open.
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After he leaves, Haalfrin looks down at the pond in front of his house and sees his reflection. He's wearing his favorite armor, decorated with Kareen tribal markings, as well as the personal marks of all his former raiders he spent his youth with.
Unlike Reeda and the other Kareen tribesmen, Haalfrin isn't dark skinned. Instead, he's pale white, just like the locals here.
The Kareen are nomadic thieves and sometimes mercenaries; he came across some while they sailed past his homeland, and they accepted him as a member of the tribe.
Over the years, he'd had a blast sailing the seas with them – Chief Grotto and the lot. Haalfrin just looks down and bitterly smiles. "I thought I could adventure away the days of my youth, and that I'd get an arrow through the neck or a mage's fire in my face… I didn't expect to live this old at all."
Kareen men live such violent lives that everyone Haalfrin knew in his youth were either lost at sea, or they were killed in battle. In the end, Haalfrin is the only elder left in this world from his generation.
Having memories of a time that nobody else has shared feels…strange… and lonely. For these past ten years, he'd whiled away his days rotting on a bed, waiting miserably to die.
As he continues looking at his own reflection, he imagines himself in his former days of glory. He was a tall, burly, and upright beast of a man with an intimidating glare.
"Now? I've gone frail, my back is hunched, and my limbs had shriveled and shrunk. My armor doesn't even fit me anymore."
Getting irrationally angry for a second, he swipes his sword scabbard into the pond and scatters his reflection before marching away.
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After a short walk, Haalfrin goes to the main hall, where the younger men are celebrating before they go to seek wealth and adventure.
Hearing the roaring, drunk laughter, Haalfrin stands before the front door feeling more than a little awkward. He hasn't come here in years, and many of the younger faces inside are strangers to him by now – no longer looking like the children he once knew.
All those times Reeda had to change his soiled pants have eaten away at his confidence, leaving him feeling too ashamed to open that door and face his clan. He's no longer the strong, dependable leader he used to be, after all.
Over the years, as Haalfrin grew older, he eventually kept to his home – no longer intermingling with the younger folk.
After growing so weak and useless, he'd convinced himself he was no longer good enough… "But today, I hope this courage I've gathered is enough… Whatever. I'm headed in."
He opens the double doors with some difficulty, then hobbles in. The young Chief is in the middle of bragging about their latest pillage – one of the coastal cities. "Yeah, with the Alasta Kingdom being at war, this is the perfect time to pillage! There are no men to defend the towns!"
However, the moment Haalfrin comes in full view of everyone, the chief stops his story and stares at the newcomer, along with everyone else.
