Waelden

“Who are you?” I called out. “What do you want?”

The warmth of a small fire is of some solace here in this deep and dry cave. This wicked winter keeps the land outside locked in its firm and cruel grip. Wildermore has always been a wilder land, the Balewood in particular, but there are strange matters afoot.

Continued from: Into the Cold: A Call from the Wild

Now Hild had not intended to be at all nosy about Thane Averel’s coming and going. She had thought in the past few weeks that surely he would return to Bancross soon, as he did every year at around this time. The village had prepared well for the leaner months, but she was finding herself eyeing some of her supplies in the Roaring Dragon a touch wistfully.

With a hand raised to shield her eyes from the unexpectedly bright sun of the early winter’s morning, Hertha watched as her cousin, Thilwend, approached the doors to the Armoury and, with a court nod and a ‘Fair day to you,’ passed on her way to her office. But another, much smaller figure wasn’t far behind the sergeant. Her lightness of step and cheerful expression caused the Smith to smile a little.