**Chapter 2: The Legend of the Raiders**

The desolate highlands of the Slough seemed to darken, as if the very presence of the Raiders of Never-Ending Misery was enough to draw the light out of the air. Cormag and Sith stood frozen, their eyes fixed on the wraithlike forms that coalesced before them. The Raiders' wails, like the mournful dirge of a dead man, tormented the weak and proclaimed their glorious victory to those they encountered. As the spirits drew closer, Cormag could feel the air grow thick with an unholy presence. The Raiders' forms seemed to shift and writhe, like living darkness given shape and form. Their eyes, empty voids of malevolent intent, fixed on Cormag and Sith with an unblinking gaze. Sith's hand instinctively went to the dagger at her belt, her eyes darting towards Cormag. "What do we do?" she whispered. Cormag's grip on his sword tightened, his mind racing with the legend of the Raiders. They were said to be the restless spirits of those who had dared to touch the eternal relic, forever trapped in a cycle of sorrow and despair. "We don't engage them," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Not yet, at least." The Raiders began to circle around them, their wails growing louder as they moved. Cormag and Sith stood back-to-back, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of escape or respite. But there was none. The Raiders seemed to be everywhere, their presence suffocating. As the spirits closed in, Cormag remembered the stories he had heard about the Raiders. They were said to be merciless, driven by a hunger for mortal souls. Those who had dared to touch the eternal relic had never returned to their mortal form, forever trapped in the realm of the Raiders. "We need to make a deal with them," Cormag said, his voice barely audible over the wails of the Raiders. "We need their help to find the grave of the last emperor." Sith's eyes widened in alarm. "Are you mad?" she whispered. "We can't trust them." Cormag's gaze locked onto the Raiders, his mind racing with the possibilities. "We have no choice," he said, his voice firm. "We need their guidance to find the relic. And I think they're willing to help us... for a price." The Raiders seemed to sense Cormag's willingness to negotiate, and their wails grew softer, more melancholic. One of the spirits, its form more defined than the others, stepped forward. Its eyes fixed on Cormag, and for a moment, he felt a pang of sorrow and regret. "We have been waiting for you, Prince Cormag," the spirit said, its voice like a sigh on the wind. "We have been waiting for one brave enough to seek out the eternal relic. But be warned, mortal, the price of our help is steep. Are you willing to pay it?" Cormag steeled himself, his mind racing with the possibilities. He knew that making a deal with the Raiders would come with risks, but he was willing to take them. He had to prevent his father's demise, no matter the cost. "I am willing to listen," he said, his voice firm. The Raider's form seemed to nod, its eyes glinting with a malevolent light. "Then let us speak, Prince Cormag. Let us discuss the terms of our bargain." As the Raider began to speak, Cormag felt a sense of trepidation growing inside him. He knew that he was taking a risk, but he was willing to gamble everything to change the course of his destiny. The fate of his father, and the course of history, hung precariously in the balance.