[thoughtless]

Reylan slid his knife across the length of his forearm, splitting his thick wirey as it went. The blade was sharp but not sharp enough. For a third time, he took his stone to it and began to hone the steel. The sharp sound of metal grinding on rock was satisfying to his ear. A soothing of sorts. Familiar for a man who had spent his whole life training for battle.

A battle they'd finally won, he thought. But there was no smile on his face. Winning always came with a price, same as losing. They'd lost good men, good women, over the years and a victory would never bring them back. Peace was always precarious. His father had taught him that.

He was turning the blade over in his hand, examining his work when a young scout breathlessly enter his cabin. Reylan looked up with cold grey eyes.

"They're here, sir."

Reylan nodded, sheathed his knife in the casing on his belt, and followed the boy out into the yard.

Tents were still scattered across the settlement but he had hopes they would all be gone soon. With their newly won victory, this place would become a permanent stronghold. A true settlement. A place were his people would be warm, comfortable, and safe. A smattering of cabins had already been built and a crew was working on an outer wall with great progress. For now it looked like a bizarre, shabby, makeshift mess, but in time it would become something much more. The offering would ensure it.

When he arrived at the center of the settlement a crowd has gathered. He rolled his thick muscled shoulders and ran his hand through his shaggy black hair. Two of his men greeted him with a smile.
"It's been finalized, sir," The first assured him.
"Their envoy agree to the terms and are on their way back with their tails between their legs," continued the second.

Reylan nodded and rolled up his sleeves. The crowd parted, as their leader moved towards the offering. He leaned over the bound man. He licked his lips.
The young man was pretty, at least, though a little thin for his liking, and it was clear by the bruises that covered his body he was not all that versed in fighting. He knelt, examining the interesting contraption they had strapped him to. Someone wanted to make it difficult for him to talk.

"...take me home..." the young man slurred.
Reylan chuckled and yanked the man's head forward, forcing his swollen eyes to his. "Home..." He licked his lips, and wiped a streak of blood from his prisoner's cheek. "Has no one told you what this is? You're mine now. You have no home."