The Sons of Baroth

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 9

Fredas the 11th of Midyear 4E49

Karl gro-Baroth dragged himself off the bunk in that small cabin below deck on the Golden Drake. He couldn't see much through that small starboard side portal. Only that it was light outside and the sky still appeared overcast. The noises coming down from above deck, as well as the ease of motion of the vessel, told him that the ship had finally made port.

That was something to be grateful of. Though he expected that the crew had it much worse, he hadn't enjoyed the journey from Rihad so much at all. Those past two days had not passed exactly according to plan.

Things started off well enough. The vessel had set off on time on Middas morning, just after the dawn. The reasonable expectation was that the ship would make Hegathe by late Turdas afternoon or early evening. However, that journey had been delayed by the poor weather, adding at least a good twelve hours to the voyage.

As the Golden Drake set sail early Middas morning, the weather appeared relatively moderate. That morning, Karl even went up on deck for a short while, just to get out of the cabin for a bit. Those clouded skies had persisted, but it looked like no more than the possibility of some rain. The waters had not appeared too rough and the stiff breeze seemed to be something of an advantage during that earlier part of the day.

Those circumstances shifted quite a lot as the day wore on. Not so long after noon, the weather turned stormy once again as the dark clouds rolled in from the southern seas. That had coincided with the part of the voyage that involved sailing around the rocky peninsular of southern Hammerfell known as Hews Bane.

As Karl later learned, the crew exerted a great deal of effort struggling to keep the vessel from being driven toward the rocky outcrops. Normally, the trade ships tended to sail a good distance offshore. That day, the currents of the sea had other ideas.

After eventually clearing the peninsular of Hews Bane, the Golden Drake had been driven further off course into the northern part of Hunding Bay, nearer to the southern coast of mainland Hammerfell. The greater portion of Middas evening kept the sailors busy with trying to get the ship back out into the relative safety of open waters.

The usual route would generally take the vessel along a fairly straight line, through the deeper waters midway between Hews Bane and the island of Stros M'Kai. It was already obvious enough that several hours were going to be added to the journey.

Turdas morning brought only somewhat improved conditions. The storms had passed, but the seas remained rough, keeping the sailors just as busy. Accordingly, there was no opportunity for Karl to think about stretching his legs above deck. With the periodic showers persisting, he wouldn't have wanted to go up there anyway.

Passing most of the day in that tiny cabin, he tried to continue reading that book that he'd started on the previous day. It was one of those adventure stories set in the late second era during the struggles between the Redguard Crowns and Forebears. Part of the story took place on Stros M'kai and other parts on mainland Hammerfell. It was evident that some parts of the tale were based upon historical record. Other parts were far more fanciful.

Though the book was entertaining enough, Karl barely managed to get half way through it. With the way that ship was heaving and surging on the rough seas, that second day of the voyage from Rihad to Hegathe left him feeling more than a bit queasy.

Only to tend to his unsettled feelings of hunger, he did go visit the ship's mess later in the afternoon. Still, he didn't eat that much for fear that he'd be seeing it for a second time. He was just a bit surprised that he managed to keep it down.

It wasn't until some time after nightfall that the movement of the ship finally seemed to settle. It was a little longer before Karl's belly had settled. During the hours of darkness, the winds had fallen away and the waters finally became more calm. That made for an easier trip along that last stretch to Hegathe. However, the lighter winds also meant that it would end up taking a bit longer reaching that port during the early hours of the morning.


Once he was dressed in his plain clothes and leather vest, Karl locked his cabin and left it behind. After visiting the bathroom facilities, he headed back to the ship's mess. He still wasn't feeling like eating any food, but he'd already learned that the Redguard cook always seemed to know what was going on aboard the vessel. After all, it was the one place on the ship that everybody came to. The big Orc settled for a mug of the tea that was already brewed as he struck up a conversation with Barka.

The cook offered a brief summary of that last part of that voyage, informing him that they'd only just pulled into port ahead of the dawn. According to Barka, the Golden Drake would only be passing half a day at port. Just long enough unload cargo and pick up anything they were carrying northbound.

With that information at hand, Karl decided he'd look into passing a couple of hours on land. He'd never been to Hegathe before and he thought he could do with getting some fresh air. The musty smells aboard the ship were starting to get to him. Added to that, he was still feeling the vague after effects of mild seasickness.

Leaving the ship's mess behind, Karl headed for above deck. The skies were still overcast, but the clouds appeared much higher and less substantial. Toward the far south and west, it actually looked like the cloud cover was starting to break up a bit.

The activity on the deck of the Golden Drake appeared frantic, spilling out onto the dock. Crates and barrels were being hauled up from the hold. A steady procession of workers were busy manhandling cargo off the ship.

After a few moments, the gangly Argonian bosun had spotted Karl still standing by the door that led back below deck. After shouting at both the sailors in the hold and some of the port workers, he came over to see to the Orcish passenger.

Karl advised the boson that he wanted go ashore for a few hours. The Argonian released a hissing noise that reflected his annoyance, but agreed to clear a path to the dock as soon as there was a chance. He also made a point of reminding him that if he had not returned by noon, the ship would be sailing without him.

A brief wait passed before the Argonian shouted to the big Orc, directing him to move along and disembark during a brief gap in the movement of cargo. He moved quickly onto the dock and kept going until he was well clear of the workers.

Standing on the far end of the pier, Karl noted that the Golden Drake was the only trading vessel at port. There were two Imperial Naval vessels in the harbour. One at dock and the other anchored just offshore. There were also a few small fishing boats sitting idle at the port.

Looking about the dock area, it seemed a fair bit shabbier than the harbourside of Anvil. It was certainly nothing like the facilities of Rihad. Aside from the lighthouse and one other notably old stone structure, everything else was made of weathered timber.

Just a few gulls hovered above on the light sea breeze. They seemed a fair bit quieter than usual. He spotted a few more scavenging along the shoreline. A much larger seabird circled high overhead. It looked like a hawk of some kind, but he didn't know exactly what type it was.

Karl headed up from the docks toward the main part of the city. The path brought him into a rather run down looking marketplace. The buildings mostly seemed a haphazard arrangement of shabby timber structures, with just a few older ones built of stone.

There were a greater number of stone structures toward the other end of town, but even those showed sign of age and disrepair. Just above the rest of the city, stood a weathered palace. It looked to be typical of the old style of earlier Redguard architecture. Mostly, it just looked old.

It was hard not to notice that almost every person on the streets was Redguard. He spotted only a few that were either Imperial, Breton or maybe of mixed heritage. There'd been a far broader mix of people working down at the docks. He'd seen a couple of Dunmer and Khajiit unloading cargo onto the pier. So far, it seemed that he might be the only Orc in town. Some of the dark looks that he received from strangers seemed to support that notion. None of the open street vendors made any effort to acquire his custom. Even the beggars seemed to give him a wide berth.

He thought that it seemed a little hard to believe that Hegathe had once been the capital of Hammerfell. Of course, about a thousand years had passed since that time. That was back in the middle of the second era. Sentinel had served as the capital city of that land since that time.

Karl hadn't even seen Sentinel yet, but it was easy to say that the western city of Hegathe didn't fare well in direct comparison to Rihad. That easternmost coastal city of Hammerfell looked much better. Rihad looked more the part of a busy trading port. Despite the architectural differences, Rihad seemed more like Anvil, only perhaps slightly larger and better fortified. By stark contrast, Hegathe seemed like a place that had left its better days far behind.

Karl took care not to spend too long wandering about the city. Before losing track of time, he made sure that he was back aboard the vessel well before noon came along.

Back on the Golden Drake, he quickly returned below deck as the crew and workers toiled to conclude their business. Soon enough, the ship would be leaving the docks and heading back out to sea.

He firstly returned to his cabin, but didn't stay there. While the ship's crewmembers were all busy above deck and the vessel was still at port, he decided to visit the bathroom to shave the bristles from his face. That was something he hadn't even considered the past two days. He'd held no desire to bring a razor near his face during that rough voyage. It seemed no small wonder that more than half the ship's crew sported beards or looked like they were working toward one. The one obvious exception to that was the Argonian bosun, of course.

Feeling a bit better, Karl made his way back to the ship's mess again. He passed a brief conversation with the Redguard cook and then got something to eat and drink. He hoped he wouldn't be regretting it once the ship was back under sail.


Guildhead Adrienne Canne looked toward the doorway of her office to see that Malcolm Forester was standing there. Elynwen, the Bosmer second also turned to look. The Imperial man looked rather unusually haggard.

The Breton woman waved him in. "Forester, come on in. Take a seat." She waited a moment as he settled into the chair. "I expected you back last night."

"Well, with all the rain, we chose to remain overnight in the cave."

The head of the Skingrad Guildhall nodded her acceptance. "So then, how did it go?"

Forester cleared his throat. "Well enough. Well, more or less." He sighed wearily and smoothed his goatee beard.

Canne raised her eyebrows in question. He was generally far more verbose.

Forester offered a little more. "There were a few more goblins in there than we expected. Fourteen in total." He glanced briefly to Elynwen.

The Bosmer responded evenly. "I did advise you that I was unable to determine how many might be inside the cave."

"Of course." Forester agreed.

Canne stepped back in. "Was there any difficulty?"

Forester cleared his throat again. "Well, just a bit, but we did manage to dispatch them all in due course. A shaman was among them. Fortunately, it was not one of the older and more dangerous kind." He winced. "Artellian and Temel-Za did suffer some relatively minor injuries. Jaras took a few arrows and Temel-Za's leg and tail were badly gashed. I was able to treat their injuries with healing spells last night. They're both at the College of Whispers right now, visiting the healer."

"The others?" Canne prompted.

"Oh, no. Both Maplewood and Ras'Dar are perfectly fine. They both performed quite well. In fact, Ras'Dar is coming along quite nicely. He follows instruction far better than… well, those other two are becoming far too reckless, in my opinion."

Canne nodded, her eyes darted briefly to her second. "I'll be sure to have some words with them."

"Of course." Forester accepted.

The Guildhead finished adding some notes to her book before looking to Forester again. "Anything else that should be going into the report?"

Forester shrugged mildly. "No, I should think that covers it. Fourteen goblins, including a tribal shaman. All dispatched in and around the Bleak Flats Cave. Moderate injuries sustained by two Fighters Guild members. The goblins possessed a typical collection of shiny objects. Nothing of particular note."

Canne made some minor notes on the contract document before passing the parchment over for Forester to sign off on it.

The Guildhead leaned back in her chair. "You can tell the others to rest up today."

Forester nodded wearily.

She added a further comment. "They can also expect it remain quiet for a few days."

Elynwen spoke up. "I'll be scouting the West Weald Track over the following days."

Forester's expression indicated curiosity. That was the lesser road through the south of County Skingrad, eventually leading to County Bravil and the road into northern Elsweyr. It was not well travelled.

Canne offered some explanation. "We've just received reports of trouble in County Leyawiin. The Renrijra Krin are suspected."

Forester frowned in response.

Canne continued. "It's more likely that only Leyawiin and possibly Bravil would be affected, but it can't hurt to keep an eye out."

Forester accepted with a silent nod.

Elynwen passed comment. "From what I've heard, the Renrijra Krin don't have any traction around Riverhold. Doesn't mean they're not passing through that area."

"It's possible." The Breton woman conceded. "If you do spot any, you shouldn't tangle with them. Just observe and report."

"That's the plan." The Bosmer agreed.

Forester's expression indicated a measure of disquiet.

"Something else?" The Guildhead prompted.

"Well, I'm still concerned that we might expect further goblin problems. My friends from Chorrol have previously mentioned sighting larger numbers in parts of The Great Forest." He paused. "As you know, I have some family at Brindle Home."

"Yes, I know that." Canne sighed. "I have discussed those matters with Karl. I expect that he's going to organise a culling. Perhaps a couple of months from now. He's already suggested that it might be a coordinated effort. Most likely involving the Chorrol, Skingrad and Bruma Guildhalls."

Forester took note of that information with a nod. Hesitating just briefly, he voiced another thought. "Will Karl gro-Baroth be assuming the role of Guild Master?"

Canne tilted her head, considering her response. "I suppose that remains to seen. If I had any say in it… well, hopefully he will take the job. Either way, I expect the matter will be resolved soon enough."

Forester advised that he would go check on the other Skingrad Guild Fighters, then rose and left the Guildhead and her second in the office to continue their discussions.


The Golden Drake set sail from the harbour below Hegathe at some time around noon, headed westward for Iliac Bay. By that time, Karl had returned to his small cabin. With little else to do, he started reading that book again. Without really knowing why, he soon found himself losing interest in what he was reading.

At some point, his mind had drifted. He started thinking back to his childhood days once again. The other day, he had been going over his recollections of when Potentate Ocato was assassinated. That was when he first learned of his older brothers.

At that time, he'd been living with Fairbeard in that small rented shack in the Waterfront District of the Imperial City. With the general state of chaos that followed in the wake of the assassination of Ocato, and the general lockdown of the city, they were forced to remain inside that little shack for the first two or three days. Over the next few days that followed, they were permitted outside during daylight hours, but restricted to remaining in the Waterfront District. No movement was permitted between the districts of the city. The Legion soldiers rigidly enforced those restrictions.

There was plenty of time for Karl to plague Fairbeard with questions. His Nord guardian didn't know everything about Baroth gro-Uzgark's time with his previous family. It was really just the broad details. Even then, it was fair to say that he'd probably left out certain things, only speaking of them much later, when Karl was a little older.

At the time, Karl had wondered if that shack might be the very one that his father had lived in with his previous family. Fairbeard didn't know. There were many things that he didn't know. He wasn't even certain that he'd be able to find Karl's older brothers. The only thing he had to go on was the word of others. He'd heard mention of an Orc in Chorrol that went by the name of gro-Baroth, but no more than that. It seemed that the only way they'd learn more was by actually travelling to that city. Unfortunately, that was going to have wait.

Fairbeard had used that time to attend to Karl's schooling. Really, he was probably just trying to keep the young Orc distracted. Maybe he was also trying to keep himself just as distracted.

More than a week passed by before anyone was permitted to leave the Imperial City at all and some measure of trade activity resumed. Even then, the heavy Legion presence remained and anybody actually permitted to come or go was heavily scrutinised.

Eventually, Fairbeard managed to gain permission to leave the Waterfront District with one of the trade wagons headed for County Chorrol.

One morning, Fairbeard had gathered up all their meagre possessions and they went to meet with the traders over the northern side of the harbour.

Karl's recollections were interrupted by the noises coming from above deck. There seemed to be a lot of shouting, thuds and other various sounds. The ship lurched to one side indicating a fairly hard change in course.

He got up to look out that small starboard side portal. The weather appeared fair and the seas relatively mild. Of course, he couldn't really see all that much. He didn't know what might be going on and he also knew that he couldn't go up there to find out.

After some further course corrections, the ruckus seemed to subside. Since it was growing late in the afternoon, he expected that the Golden Drake would have been rounding the cape into the broad mouth of Iliac Bay. Still, it seemed to have been a bit more excitable than he might have reasonably expected.

Either way, there was nothing much that he could do about it. He returned his attention to that book he'd been holding earlier. After reading less than a page, his mind soon returned to his previous train of thought.

Back before the tenth year of that new era, Karl had never travelled nearly so far in his short lifetime. During all the time he'd lived in Orcrest, he'd never gone further than a couple of leagues from that city.

Upon a few occasions, in the company of other Orcs, his mother had taken him out to visit the shrine to the Orcish god. Just once, Baroth and Fairbeard had taken him out to see the ruins of the nearby Oblivion Gate, where a good number of Orcs and Khajiit had fallen fighting off the Daedric invaders before he was born.

Since leaving Orcrest, Fairbeard had taken him nearly halfway across Elsweyr and then nearly as far again to the heart of Cyrodiil. After all that, they were going to travel even further north. Though it was not really quite as far as they'd already gone, it did seem like a long way from where they started.

After leaving the Imperial City behind with Fairbeard, it took a couple of days before they reached their intended destination. Travelling with the traders, Karl passed most of that first morning sitting in the back of the wagon gazing back toward the Imperial City until it finally disappeared from view.

Just as the hills of the uplands obscured the clear view of the broad valley that contained Lake Rumare and tall towers of the city, the ruins of another old Oblivion Gate appeared just near the roadside. It was only the second one he'd seen since leaving Orcrest, but it served to remind him that they must have been all across Tamriel. Even at that young age, he knew that the Oblivion Crisis had plagued all the lands a decade earlier. However, he hadn't really given it all that much thought before.

During that afternoon, the journey was interrupted twice. The first time, it had been because of a pair of wolves threatening the horse that drew the wagon. Fairbeard joined the wagon's guard in fending off the creatures. They killed one wolf and the other ran off injured.

Karl had actually been rather excited by the incident, failing to fully recognise the potential danger of the circumstance. The two men did make it look fairly easy.

The second incident occurred a little later in the afternoon. As the wagon passed through the ruins of an old stone fort along the road, a bandit appeared from hiding and tried to ambush them with his sword at the ready. The wagon driver tried his best to outrun the armed attacker. With Fairbeard and the wagon's guard standing up and brandishing their weapons, the lone bandit quickly decided to back off.

Karl recalled that he'd been a bit more alarmed by that second attack. It was probably because it was a human threat instead of just dumb animals. In retrospect of course, he now understood that two hungry wolves might easily be more dangerous than a single bandit. Added to that, experience had since taught him that the average roadside bandit that operated alone was commonly not much smarter than a wolf and just as likely, far less cunning.

A little further along, they came across another trade wagon headed in the opposite direction. Where the wagons met, both groups stopped to set up camp for the evening. There was certainly some sense to the idea of safety in numbers. It also provided opportunity to exchange information regarding dangers along The Black Road.

During the evening, they were joined by a Legion rider headed outbound from Chorrol. He remained with the camp, intending to escort the southbound wagon as far as the County Chorrol border the next morning. He seemed keen to see to that bandit at the old fort if he was still lurking there.

That night, Karl had been alarmed by some of the distant noises in the dark, but he felt slightly more confident in the company of that larger group. He certainly trusted in Fairbeard, but it didn't hurt that there were two wagon guards and a Legion soldier at the camp.

The following morning, the wagons set off again in their respective directions. That second day passed far more quietly. Though they'd heard the noise of a forest bear bellowing in the distance, no dangerous encounters occurred along the road. The only encounter had been another Legion rider out on patrol.

Before too long, they reached the first sign of some civilisation as they neared a small farming settlement. Back then, Odiil Farm was still just a couple of farm buildings near the crop fields. In the decades since, the settlement had grown with the Odiil family. It was now three farmhouses with stables and a few sheds. The crop fields and livestock fields had also become far more significant than they'd been back then.

A little later, they approached a more substantial settlement. Karl recalled that he'd firstly thought that it must have been Chorrol. The two larger stone buildings at the front of the Weynon Priory settlement fooled him into thinking the place was more substantial than it really was. There were also some farmhouses and several other structures located further behind, but it wouldn't have even qualified as a town.

Karl's attention was soon redirected toward the high stone walls of a city further ahead along the road. Those walls were fairly tall, but not nearly as imposing as those of the Imperial City. He could see some sort of taller structure rising up from within the walls. The spires of that temple were nowhere near as tall as the tower of the Imperial City, but they still seemed fairly tall.

Before quite reaching that city, they passed by the ruins of another Oblivion Gate up on the hillside above the road. It's red tipped darkened spires rising up out of the remains of an old stone tower. That further reinforced the idea that those things must have been just about everywhere.

The wagon soon pulled up outside the buildings identified as the Imperial Trading Company. Both the office building and the warehouse both appeared fairly new back then. The old stabling facilities across the road looked much older and worn.

By the time that they'd reached Chorrol, there were still a few good hours of daylight left. Leaving the traders behind, Fairbeard gathered up all their belongings and then took Karl toward the south gates of the city. He'd again reminded Karl that they shouldn't expect to find his brothers right away. The first thing that they needed to do was find a place to stay.


Karl gro-Baroth was roused from his musings with a start. He quickly realised it had just been the noise of a door slamming shut somewhere on the deck above that startled him. He also realised that darkness had fallen and he was sitting there in the shadows with that book still in his hands. He put it aside.

Rather than bothering to light a lantern, he got up to head off to the ship's mess. He wasn't feeling all that hungry, but he was glad enough that he wasn't feeling sick.

Karl found Barka looking slightly busy in the mess. The Redguard cook was checking on each of the pots as he served up some food for a couple of Nord sailors. One of them was that younger sailor called Bjen.

Karl quietly waited his turn until the other two were done.

"What'll it be?" The Redguard cook looked up expectantly.

"Whatcha got?" The Orc returned.

Barka's expression turned serious. "Well, you can have the beef and vegetable stew, or you can have the beef with some vegetables."

"I reckon the stew sounds fine ta me. Don't want too much, but."

The cook nodded and started to portion out the stew into a bowl. "You want an ale with that?"

"Yeah, whatever ya got."

"Yep, got it. One ale."

"Hey, what was all that ruckus about, a coupla hours back? We have trouble roundin' the cape or somethin'?"

"No one told you?" Barka seemed surprised.

"Told me what? I was in my cabin. Figured I was meant to stay outa the way."

Barka released a long breathy sigh. "Had a bit of a close call, from what I hear. A pirate vessel pulled out from behind one of them little islands near the cape." He paused. "Might've been real bad if we didn't have an Imperial Naval vessel coming along behind us. Pirates took off once they saw the Imperial ship. The naval ship veered off to follow them."

"Pirates?" Karl was surprised to hear of all that.

"Yep, happens sometimes."

The big Orc shook his head in mild disbelief.

Barka continued. "Nothing you could've done about it, anyways."

"I'm with the Fighters Guild."

"Yep, you said before. That don't count for much out of the sea. Best thing is to try to outrun them." The cook met his gaze. "If things get up close and personal, then it's all over. You try to fight 'em, then they'll try to kill us all and scuttle the ship. Better to lose the cargo than lose everything."

"If ya say so." Karl conceded, though none of it sat right with him. He took his meal and headed for a table.

"Cook's got it right." The older Nord sitting with Bjen weighed in. He was a tall, but scrawny looking Nord with messy hair and a straggly beard.

Karl acknowledged him with a nod and a grunt as he sat down nearby.

Bjen spoke up. "It really is the best way with pirates. You just don't go messing with them. Just last year, a trade vessel got scuttled by pirates coming back from Stros M'Kai. It only came out cos' a survivor washed up on the island with a piece of the ship. They tried to fight back and they lost everything."

The other Nord added something. "We hear that some of the pirates get battlemages on their crews. Can't do much if they decide to torch the riggings out at sea."

Karl shook his head as he chewed on his food. "Just don't sit right with me."

"We were just lucky there was Imperial Navy around." The older Nord returned.

Bjen chimed in again. "Hans is right. Imperial Navy ships will probably have their own battlemages. With any luck, they managed to chase the pirates down."

Karl just nodded and kept at his stew. He was quite used to dealing with bandits on land. He'd been doing that for years. Bandits on ships sounded like a whole different breed of trouble.

The two sailors picked up on the big Orc's dark mood and let him be. They both left the mess as soon as they were done. As he finished off his ale, Karl realised he'd just met another Nord called Hans. It must've been a popular name.

Leaving the mess behind, he visited the bathroom, then returned to his cabin. He tried reading that book again by lantern light for a short while. At some point, he'd fallen asleep with the open book lying upon his chest.

~O~