Vadhaka Ro

Vadhaka Ro - Chapter 1

Demarus was angry – angry that he had been robbed. He was angrier still that he would be the one that would pay for the crime if he didn't get that precious ring back. But what angered him most was that he knew who the thief was; he had trusted him.

"Cursed Peostrian hack!" he shrieked as he kicked over another chair in the small tavern, startling the other patrons. The locals exited the establishment while the tavern keeper stayed behind his counter, wide-eyed.

"It wasn't my fault that he stole it!" said a cloaked, tussle-haired Ceveling who scrambled out of the path of his master's wrath. "Besides, you shouldn't have trusted him."

As soon as the words left his lips, Keltho Fobnob realized he had said the wrong thing.

He panicked seeing the wild-eyed gaze of Demarus focus on him. Turning to run from the building, Keltho didn't make but a single step before his short frame was yanked backwards and into the air by his cloak. He collided with a timbered wall before crumpling to the earthen floor. The room was spinning and he couldn't breath. Pain shot through his left shoulder as he tried to raise himself onto all fours. Just as he thought he might get up, a heavy boot slammed into his right side, sending him tumbling through two chairs and a small wooden table. Keltho lay on his back struggling for breath, a chair lying across his chest. The room darkened around him as a shadow came over him.

"What did you say?" The voice was menacing and malicious, daring a response that would fan the flames of the speaker's ire.

Wincing at the pain in his side, he looked up at the owner of the heavy boots standing next to him. Keltho knew that Demarus would not hesitate to kill him if he said the wrong thing now.

"Forgive me, master," the Ceveling groveled, not daring to do more than to roll over on the floor at the large Tarnisian human's feet. "I, uh, meant to say "I... yes, I... I should not have trusted him. It was my fault, master."

Demarus lifted his right foot, tempted to stomp on his underling's head. Instead he stomped in the dirt next to Keltho's dirty face. The small Ceveling flinched and closed his eyes, expecting the worst.

"What a pathetic sight!" Demarus spit out the words. "If we don't get that ring back from the Peostrian, I will take out the rest of my fury on you. Do you understand me, half wit?"

Grateful that the tirade was over, Keltho's bobbed. He was slow to get up, not sure if another attack was coming.

Demarus turned around and sat down at one of the two tables still standing upright. "Get over here, half wit!"

Keltho moved over to where Demarus sat with his clenched fists on the table. He stayed out of reach circling to a chair opposite his master. Sitting down without a sound, he ventured to look up at Demarus, a feeble smile on his face. The glare he got lost the smile.

"Do you know how many years we've been searching for that cursed ring!? I will not tolerate another failure! You will get it for me! Do you understand?" the large man demanded of the Ceveling. "Or you will die trying, one way or another!"

Keltho nodded; he had no other choice than to agree.

* * * * *

Giant sandstone and limestone formations twisted against the harsh winds and desolate flatlands below the cliffs of the southeastern Rimbhotain Mountains. Shadows were stretching across the barren wastelands. The hardiest plants thrived in these parched desert sands, such as the cicakaicho plant; precious to the few who traveled this near-forgotten trail. Its barrel trunk held a life-sustaining liquid. Many a traveler had learned too late that the water found in the steaming mud pots was either too hot or too sulfuric. Either way, the thirsty were never satisfied but soon dead.