Kaelen sat by the hearth, his hand resting on the hilt of a rusted shortsword. He was only nineteen, but his eyes held the weary weight of someone who had spent every autumn guarding the granaries. When the harvest was high, the "Shadow-Walkers"—a desperate band of outcasts from the northern wastes—would begin their descent. They didn't come to conquer; they came to maraud.
Kaelen cornered one near the well—a figure draped in tattered furs, eyes bright with a feral hunger. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Kaelen saw not a monster, but a man driven to the edge by a winter that had already claimed his home. The marauder didn't strike; he simply clutched a small bag of salt to his chest as if it were gold.
He stepped into the cold night air just as a torch flared in the distance. The marauders moved with a terrifying, practiced fluidness. They didn't stand and fight the town guard; they split into shadows, darting through alleyways, snatching sacks of grain and livestock before vanishing back into the mist. maraud
: Slash Maraud is a post-apocalyptic "punk rock" comic featuring mutant dinosaurs and roving gangs.
The first sign was always the silence. The crickets would stop their rhythmic chirping, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Then came the soft thud-thud of leather boots on thatched roofs. Kaelen sat by the hearth, his hand resting
: The term has been used to describe the "swashbuckling scallywags" of the Age of Sail, such as pirates and privateers who raided coastal towns. I'd Buy That For A Dollar: SLASH MARAUD #1 (November 1987)
The fog didn't just sit in the valley; it prowled. It clung to the damp stone walls of the village of Oakhaven like a living thing, waiting for the moon to dip behind the jagged peaks of the Iron Mountains. In Oakhaven, the word "maraud" wasn't a vocabulary term; it was a season. They didn't come to conquer; they came to maraud
"They're here," Kaelen whispered, more to himself than to the sleeping village.