There is no sovereign of all Craglorn, the regions few cities and townships must maintain their own autonomies by employment of guards, militia, or mercenaries. Thus the roads and trails outside of these settlements, despite being key trade routes between the provinces of High Rock and Cyrodiil, are left unguarded and lawless. And any caravan or expedition braving these routes without ample or able guard, will undoubtedly fall prey to the ruthless Greycloak Mercenaries.
The Greycloacks are an outlaw band, and by outlaws I don’t mean the rascals and rogues that are but the trite invention of the tavern bards. These are vagabonds, bullies, cut-throats and petty thieves. Along the eastern road, just outside the jurisdiction of Belkarth, can be found a huge mountain cavern from which the Greycloacks run much of their illicit businesses. Exploring the cavern I found everything from the essential to the exotic. Teas, textiles, spices and sugars, weapons, armour, jewellery and even caged beasts; all no doubt smuggled or purloined.
They even have a giant adult Wamasu, a dangerous reptile rarely seen outside of the Black Marsh. Just how the Greycloacks managed to get it down here is beyond my comprehension, or indeed just what they intend to do with it. I recall back in Glenumbra reading the lament of a sea captain who had foolishly tried to transport a full grown Wamasu matron to Anvil on the Gold Coast. During a storm the brute broke free of its crate, crashed through the hold and proceeded to destroy the ship in tempestuous fury. So it is no great surprise to now watch on as the Greycloack handlers loss control of their beast too.
Perhaps their misguided confidence came directly from their leader, a fierce Redguard named Ariana At-Fara, who herself keeps two senche-tigers close as hand at all times; perhaps as guards, pets, or companions. She might do well to remember the Khajiiti adage, ‘One can befriend a senche, one can train a senche, but one can never, ever, tame a senche’.