Under the blood red sky

[Khamat]

(Note: For reference Khamat and the Flametongues are currently in duchy number 11, camped near the edge of Mallon forest)

Khamat sat alone on a fallen tree a hundred metres or so from the rest of the clan, they had been forced to move again. It seems that the humans didn't like the fact they'd had a camp of Skaldi on their doorstep so had chased them out, attempting to catch several of their number for their slavery. Luckily this time they caught none, watchers having caught sight of the humans well before they arrived and the camp being cleared with the lightning speed that the Flametongues were used to.

Never did they stay in one place for two long, and to this end they had perfected the art of making and breaking camp with great speed, all had a job and all knew what it was, it went like clockwork. 

This time it seemed they had been forced even further North, to the edge of a large forest, Khamat sat alone on the edge of this forest, looking out at the bustle of Skaldi going about their business, how he wished he could provide them properly instead of having to live this lifestyle. But they were not strong enough, they were still weak from the foolishness of Savrak, he would need time and somewhere safe where he could settle down before they would be strong enough to do as he wished. Currently they were reduced only to making occasional raids into human settlements, striking and grabbing anything in easy reach before vanishing like spectres. That wouldn't be enough forever though, they deserved to be something more than raiders who hid in the night and fled at the first site of a response, they deserved to be free Skaldi who could exercise that freedom without being crushed by humans.

The glimmer of several fires could now be seen coming from the camp, presumably the fires for an evening meal, the fires produced little smoke as all the wood had been dried for several days so far, but still they were kept small so as not to attract to much attention. His watchers had reported that just twenty leagues away there was a human village, nothing particularly large or bothersome but it was a place to watch out for anyway. Enough Skaldi had been diverted as could be spared to watch the approach from the village, but everyone was on edge as they'd have to be up and gone before any arrived. Whilst in a village there was not likely to be many true warriors, Khamat could not bear to lose any Skaldi for no more reason than he fancied a fight. 

The sky was a crimson red as the sun set, blood was to be spilt that next day if the omens were right, and they usually were. Khamat dropped down from his log and descended into the camp, traipsing through the men and women, his large frame being of no concern to them as he offered each a word of praise or even simply exchanged simple greetings or wished them well on a hunt or a piece of craft. 

Several minutes later he reached his own shelter, a tent exactly the same as any other's, except he had someone waiting for him. Tocgar stood by Khamat's tent, probably awaiting his return. Khamat sighed before he strode up to the overly-ambitious Skaldi, gesturing heavy as he spoke in a rather clipped tone, "You don't have to wait up for me, go and find somewhere you're useful"

The young Skaldi frowned for several seconds before hanging his head in submission and emitting a low hiss of confirmation before scurrying off to get to work as he had been told.

Khamat peeled apart the two flaps of leather that served as the entrance to his tent, it was fairly basic, holding only a rock that had presumably been put in there to serve as a table, as well as a giant mat sprawled out on the floor that served as their sleeping areas.  

[Khamat]

Khamat unrolled a large roll that sat in the corner of the tent, unveiling what few personal posessions that he actually held, he didn't feel the need to have much, he had enough to live and survive, that was all, but as far as weaponry went they didn't have a smith around them of passable skill that could create any sort of bladed object, the basic iron they had gotten their hands on wasn't strong enough to create a sword big enough for their use. 

Inside the roll there were several items: A small flint stone for starting fires, some dry kindling in case it wasn't present in the area where the clan settled, a strong cord of well-made rope they'd raided from a human village to the east, and a bundle of cloth strips in an assortment of different sizes and shapes, all used as bandages by Khamat should he injure himself. And injuring himself was something he did a lot. It wasn't on purpose, just when you train and you catch your arm at the wrong angle so that you cut yourself, or when you're chopping wood or hauling sharp objects, it just sort of happens and sometimes you don't even notice it till your done. 

Khamat took out two of the longer bandages, wrapping one around each of his gigantic clawed hands, wrapping them tightly onto his skin without any creases and making sure that the material didn't pile up anywhere. When the tent flaps opened again and their chief came out, he turned and skirted around the camp this time, heading for the edge of the forest, this time not stopping to talk to anyone and staying out of the sight of the Skaldi till he was out of the camp and at the edge of the forest. 

The sky was still the same crimson that it had been before, an omen of bloodshed to come surely, but who's blood would be shed was a completely different matter entirely. 

Khamat had been planning to go and scout out the two villages around their camp, but it would take him several days to get there if he planned to do the journey on foot. This time he would be unable to scout their surroundings, they knew there weren't any immediate threats to their safety but the two villages were an ever-present risk. The only way he could see of getting to the villages and back without it taking days was if he had some sort of horse. But a horse couldn't carry a Skaldi, well maybe it could a regular Skaldi, but surely not one that was the size that Khamat was, his size was almost unheard of amongst the Flametongues, it had it's drawbacks as well as it's strengths. But one of the larger drawbacks was that if he wanted a mount he was sure as hell going to have a hard time finding one that could bear his weight. 

[Khamat]

He decided that instead of setting out in the middle of the night with very few supplies and without telling anyone he would instead leave that very morning, it'd be much easier as then he could organise supplies and for someone to organise things for him while he was gone. He'd probably have to set a watcher to stay behind if they moved to lead him to their new camp, that would be the first thing that he organised. 

Khamat turned back and walked into the camp, having had a good 10 minutes away from the hustle and bustle in his solitude, returning to his own tent and gathering up the aforementioned supplies. He called for Tocgar and made preparations for a watcher to stay behind should they move, the boy was only a few years younger than Khamat and even if he was a bit over-eager he was useful and carried out any jobs he was given to perfection each time, Khamat felt comfortable giving him a task so important as setting a guide as he knew that the young Skaldi would not forget. 

He then organised for some food to be brought, travel food meaning essentially dried old meats tough enough to chew till the day you die and some small hunks of bread, hopefully it wouldn't rain to heavily or the bread will go soggy or mouldy, then all he'd have to eat was the bread. As soon as all of the supplies were organised he sat down on his sleeping mat. 

Khamat breathed out a large sigh, allowing the weight of the world to slip off his shoulders for a minute and pretend he had grown up in a time when things for the Skaldi were already good instead of them having to fight tooth and claw to get there. Falling asleep was harder than he'd expected it to be, but eventually he drifted off into a fitful sleep, punctuated by brief periods where he would awake in a cold sweat. 

---

Florias 2 200AD

Khamat awoke, the shape of his wife next to him on the mat curled up against him, she must have come in late and not wanted to wake him, knowing what he planned to do today. Gently untangling her from him and setting her comfortably he gathered up the small amount of supplies that he'd arranged the night before, quietly opening the tent flap so as not to wake anyone before dancing around the mess of tents and equipment to reach the edge of the camp. The guards let him through with barely a glance, knowing what he meant to do, and as soon as he left the camp he began, taking long strides across the plains, eager to cover as much space in the first day as he possibly could.

The quicker he could make this journey, the quicker he could do what he needed to and the quicker he could begin to make the return journey, the longer he was away from his clan the larger the opportunity for things to go wrong. 

[Khamat]

Floras 19th early morning

Khamat stood on a rise several hundred yards from the camp, he'd been away for long enough now that he had begun to miss the constant movement of the Flametongues and the bustle of people and the sense of companionship and of them all being one large family.

Khamat leaned one hand up against a tree next to him, leaning slightly on it, he'd cracked a brutal pace and walked halfway through the night just to make it back as early as he had, he loved nature as much as the next Skaldi, but there was nothing like being back with your clan. Khamat said a silent thanks to the forest for keeping him safe on his journey, placing a morsel of his food at the base of a tree as an offering before stepping out from under the three cover and squaring himself up.

Khamat pulled himself up into as straight a posture as he could and puffed out his chest, looking all the strong and eternal leader that he should, hiding his weariness at having walked so long in favour of showing the Skaldi what they needed to see. Khamat strode purposefully into the camp to many welcomes and happy Skaldi, in joy at the return of their chief, whispering silent thanks to the forests for keeping him safe and the streams and animals for keeping him nourished. Khamat answered as was expected, telling them that his journey had been successful in scouting out the human village, they would be no issue at all.

He then decided that a special story was in order, gathering around the clan, each person leaving their work for a short time to listen to the tale of how their leader had fought and beaten a human (leaving out the part about where they were both to tired to continue and instead replacing it with the human running away). While Khamat had not actually beaten his opponent, he had scored a hit and the human hadn't so he was only telling certain bits of the truth, it would be good for their morale, not that they really needed it right now, but it'd give them confidence. Once the tale was over and done with their was much roaring and laughing, merriment from all at the tale of how their fearless leader had beaten a human.

Once the merriment had died down slightly each went back to their job, Khamat calling for Tocgar to meet him on the plains in front of the camp, washing up quickly before going out there to meet the younger Skaldi. "What have you done while i've been away" Khamat amiably asked Tocgar, he wasn't angry just wanted a report on what'd happened while he'd been off. Khamat listened intently for several minutes as it was all recounted, feeling incredibly pleased by the end of it yet also slightly saddened. While he'd been away, it seems they'd caught a local craftsman, forcing him to work while Tocgar and several other of the younger Skaldi watched and tried to learn what they could. The craftsman had died before they could get to much out of him, someone had been playing a bit to rough. And it seemed that Tocgar had been the only one who had even been able to partially replicate the human's success so far.

"So... it looks like your in charge of crafts now" Khamat said, growling low at times as if trying to suppress a slight laugh, which is exactly what he was trying to do, Tocgar was now the most skilled crafter amongst them, was it a joke? He'd proven useless at most things up until now, at least now he had a way to be of use to the clan like he'd always wanted.