Weeks after I had left Kedrone and severed my fealty to its Liege, I received news that Dakor was back to the North and in fact now gathering a team of raiders.

From the news, he had been laying waste and terror on villages around Kedrone and gathering more followers.

I understood keenly what he was doing; he was striving to raise an army of rebels. But whatever be the fate of Kedrone and Dakor's plot, was nothing of interest to me.
All that had truly snatched my interest was my revenge on the cold man, and if fighting for Kedrone couldn't offer me that privilege, then there was veritably no point returning to her aid.

Through concealed knowledge of which was sure to aid my quest, I structured expediently my itinerary.
I journeyed the lonely roads some days till I had fallen upon a village. But I was extremely dazed when I had come upon the inhabitation.

Thick cloud of smoke and hazed vision welcomed me the little land. But I was even more astounded when I had driven deeper.

Wrecked ground, debris and distorted soil that seemed almost as a battle ground, spoke chaos had surely prevailed the land.

Rail of bodies as a path maker continued the absurd scene. The land was no less to desolation. Destitution profound; gloominess and ruin eminent. There were corpses in piles. Dried puddles of blood still comely in its host of flies. Unrecognised parts of human flesh lay scattered aground. And of the houses -- their was truly nothing left of it, save a handful of still standing structures. A pick I wager would bring the guised structures down -- reveal their true ruin.

  This could have been an attack from another clan. Or perhaps, a raid by a brutal gang!

Where was the humanity in this? The sight of this height of wickedness and injustice infuriated me -- perhaps because I myself had tasted a fair sheer of the feeling. 

As I moved on I satisfied my ire with more abominable sight. Men and women were gut down, and children hanged up trees and stakes by their entrails. This was monstrosity in its peak.

Very few villagers lay scatter the land. Most of which tended for their wounded. A few of the inhabitants did come to gawk at me.   By good fortune, I picked up sight of a man and then approached. He had managed to have survived the raid with his life and a good measure of his parts.

  "What happened here?" I asked, even though the man was too rooted in pains to take cognisance to my presence.

  "Please speak to me, what happened here?" I urged.

  "And what would it change strange man. It wouldn't bring back our dead ones, would it?" Each word of his carried the throbbing feeing of sorrow.

  "But it could bring you justice." I said.

  "What can one man do to such a gang." He huffed soberly.

   "All I need is a name, the route they took, and I swear it to you, I would bring justice to your family and friends" I assured with a confident tone. He could see the sincerity in my words. And after a deep exhale, he declared........

   " He was a great man, solidly built, with thick forearms, and well mounted legs. And he was full of stamina and tactics. He was an absolute thing of terror; he and his host. He called himself Dakor!"

My heart cut at the utterance of the man. A cold shiver ran through me for which I couldn't give pure recognition to; either a shiver of fear, or that of anxiety and enthusiasm.

  "Dakor!" I exclaimed. Fear first driving in, and then rage taking over. Even the man could recognise now a familiar hate in me.

  "You know him?" He asked anxiously. "You know the man." He spoke this time with surety.

  "I do. He is a lunatic. And until I stick my sword in him, I would not rest." I spoke darkly, revealing every cold killing intent I held for the man Dakor.

  "Your parts have indeed bitterly crossed then." The man confirmed his thoughts.

  "It has, and Dakor by fortune is just the man I have been searching for." I sneered at the thought of the evil man and his deeds of mischief and lunatism.

  "He led his gang due west. From my assumption, they would keep falling upon villages and towns, looting them, and increasing their number." The man finally completed the rest of information I craved.

  "Thank you!" I said to the man, stretching in rage, as the many thoughts of what I would do first to the vile man once I set my eyes upon him, struck me as a wave, one after another.

  "Please......." The voice of my respondent cracked suddenly.  "Make the maniac suffer." He spoke with so much coldness as I felt it in my heart. I merely nodded once I heard his words, and then strode for my beast.

  If their was anything I knew about Dakor, it was that he was nothing but a cold maniac.
Nobody could testify to this better than I.

With each day that drove away, it seemed like it were just yesterday. I remembered everything clearly; the event of Keiya and my unborn child. The maniac had ripped my unborn child out her. He had defiled and abused her right and person to the highest order. He had condemned her with the worst death sentence ever.

No one truly deserved justice or vengeance as myself. Now, Dakor was going about raiding nearby villages and towns. But what truly were his intentions? Whatever they were my blade was sure to end him before he accomplishes his cold intentions.

Following the guide I had sapped from the raided village folk, I had come upon a route through the wilderness of woods. I had ridden in that direction a full day, asking inhabitants and campers in the woods for direction. At last, their guide had led me once again unto another course that would tend me upon a village. 

The farther I moved, the more I had an assurance that I was getting closer to Dakor and his gang, even though at the moment, the effort felt futile.

It was Kazor! A village upon the wilderness.  Although I had predicted Dakor be far away from this very settlement, since along my journey certain circumstances had bore dilatory. Howbeit I perceived it needful to pass a night in the humble inhabitation, rather than the cruel woods.

I had pronounced myself lord to the beast whilst sited head up upon horseback, masked with the guts of the sheer believe of myself -- a warrior. 

The sudden thunder running through the air exiled swiftly that feeling of audacity. By instincts jolting, I put my beast to a standstill and in a breath dismounted.

I took to a quick survey. A drawn out blade was rather apt for the proceedings. I traced the sound of the firearm. The result was rather disappointing. A valley of inhabitants!

Then I saw it!

Apparently, the valley of peaceful inhabiters had been seized by a brutal gang of hostiles. They had taken greedily what they needed, killed who they had chosen, raped who they fancied, burnt down where they pleased...and yet they had refused to ride away.
     
Callous!

But that was life all the same. But the heaven laughs at them for they see and bare witness to this and they know truly their day is coming. Howbeit, I stand at rear and would consider them slow.

Why should good people suffer ill fate and how long would it persist?

Then again what was I? A single man!  What truly could a man as myself do?They were well in number, brutal in instincts....clearly even fighters. And now adding to my slim odds; they possessed a rare and remarkable piece of weapon, 'firearms'.

  Even if I could fight as a solo wolf - take down a few of the men, I would surely be brought down eventually.....perhaps by a fool hiding in a hole and taking lucky shots.

  This was a fight to pay for justice for this cheated individuals. But this sadly was not my fight to die in.

   As stabbing as it was, I had to take the decision to abandon this people and leave. It was a decision harder than one could comprehend........for in fact I was once a leader, and I knew what leadership and people were and the sheer feeling of a leader loosing his people.

    "Bring that one too!" Amid my cold fantasies, abruptly from the valley the sudden crack of the man in a thick roar, yanked my consciousness back the black soil I laid squat. I had almost turned away to leave, when this strange voice gripped me; familiarity yet surrounding it.

  I turned back to the view of the valley, my belly and chest pressed upon the soil so that I was creeping now. But I was blown in complete awe when my eyes had fallen upon the speaker.
   The shock so strong, I almost swung up had I not willed myself otherwise.

  The huge man was drawing out of the hut and pacing to the gathering of the inhabitants, his enrage nature was static. Even so,  drawing closer upon my view, so that his look be better defined, his arrogance was held high. He was a big jawed man, covered by his prominent beards; well mounted in height and stamina...and amidst the thick dark covering of his beards, I could still sort out the old, rough scar planted on his left cheek.

  How could I not recognise this maniac........for the ugly scar - old ugly  scar, had been in fact a sheer planting by my blade. This cold maniac was no other than my mortal enemy - Dakor!

          Oh gracious fate!

  I had almost lost the very person I had held up strive and chased for weeks on end. I should have known better that this was Dakors style.
And how could this fight not be mine? 

Dakors presence in this valley had in fact summarized my resolve and my stand on this matter deepened.  And like I was not the same man trembling once at the number of the hostiles, I felt now a fresh surge of ire, and in it yet a strong motivation.

  I would kill Dakor and grant this families the justice they deserve and even so, put my enraged turbulent spirit to rest for good.

    Even though my rage was heating up and all my being was begging I jumped down this hill already, descend upon the maniac and seize glory in the kill........still, I knew how foolish this would be. My rage could only guide me to recklessness. And following the insane number of Dakors associates, a blind charge could not be my most potent weapon. I would be gasping for life even before reaching half way to Dakor. It was a suicidal optimism, one I couldn't fall for.

  If ever I wanted to make it to Dakor, it would be sneaky and less alarming. And the only time that could offer such courtesy as less alarming, was the dark.

In the dark would cruel justice come.