As new recruits, we were hardly treated any better than we had been when we were living in the wild. We still slept in the mud, and instead of having free reign, we had to gather raw materials for the clan, an initiation fee. We were allowed a fire though.
Before we could be trusted as true members of Necessary Evil, we had to muster up 100 pieces of timber, and 100 iron ingots. This turned out to be a much easier job than before, as we now had large stretches of safe land to harvest from. But working to make these marauders even wealthier disturbed me. I figured it was something I'd just have to get used to though. I didn't exactly have to go with them on their killing sprees, maybe not everyone in the clan was a raider.
As we assimilated into clan life, our tight knit group of friends that had formed on the mainland soon began to unravel and go its separate ways.
Redham took to the seas, to no one's surprise, and manned cannons on voyages to hunt massive beasts called krakens. He wouldn't get much of the treasure haul from successful trips, but he said he enjoyed himself nonetheless. It sounded like good fun, and I regret not going with him.
Publius would accompany him on many of these outings, but he soon fell victim to routine. Each day I'd see him rise, spar in the city with other members of the clan, then he would be required to get on board a ship and head out to hunt the same beasts over and over again. Sometimes at the day's end he'd talk to me about the other folks he was meeting at sea, but never with much enthusiasm. It seemed to me he enjoyed his time with Necessary Evil less and less. Then one day, he was simply gone. No one knew where he went, or why, but I had my guesses.
The others soon vanished as well. Clan life didn't quite fit them here on this exotic island. Some began to miss the mainland, other's missed their freedom and independence. Some were just outright disturbed by the activities the clan was involved in.
There was one of us though, who seemed to benefit the most.
The dissenter, the one who first suggested we join with these men, took to the killing easily. He reveled in it. Before long he was training day and night. Sometimes I'd join him while he sat and listened for hours to the clan leaders. They'd ramble on about how best to kill, where to find the most vulnerable people, and the fastest way to get gold. It didn't settle well with me, and ignored most of it, but from the look on my friend's face, he was absorbing every last word. With disturbing quickness, he became a different person. Or, I wonder now, perhaps he was always that way, and he just needed to be put in the right environment.
I worried a little, that such a person could have been so closely involved in our own group, that I hadn't seen this side. How much did I really know my other allies? I tried to console myself by reminding myself that I wasn't the one who recruited all of them. But the words meant little, when faced with the reality that I had lost my allies to this clan. What's worse, as time went on, and I got a sense of the bigger picture, of the politics of clans all over Agon, the one we had rashly sided with was fairly unimportant and poor. I'd had enough.
After about a month enduring time with the barbarians, and watching my friends vanish one by one, I decided it was time to leave. Redham tried to convince me to stay, but he quickly gave up, as even he could hardly stand to be on Yssam any longer. But when it came time for me to leave, he decided to remain behind. I took the wood I had gathered for our clan leaders, and fashioned it into a raft. Gathering my best possessions, I set out back for Mercia.
