Aegaldred

*splayed open upon the desk before her lay the blue, leather bound book, its bindings still new and protesting at being held open, the only sound in the room being that of the scratching of quill to parchment and her dog whimpering in its dream filled sleep.

*A blue, leather bound book sits upon the table before her.  A silver inkwell and quill to her right, a goblet of red wine to her left.  Tapping the quill to her lips in thought, she then dips the sharpened end in ink before writing...*

Another day, another storm.

How oft I think of committing words to this book, and how frequently I lack the enthusiasm, but the wine and events of late have made me more reflective.  Though before I continue, my bard, if you are reading this you shall cease now and return the book to where you found it!

How cold the crimson was upon my skin.

How loud the crying that came from my mouth.

How bright the colours that came into my eyes.

How warm the blanket wrapped around my body.

How gentle the sway of her loving cradle.

How soothing the sound of her heart's soft beat.

How beautiful the sound of her calm voice.

Hello there old friend, thought it was about time I gave you a nod once more. Should not keep you waiting as long as I have in the past. You deserve better than that.

There they stood, the three of them. Meadwine, Meadowyn and Ægáldred were lined up before their father in the main hall of his house.

Tale starts from: Life as a Refugee - Meadowyn's Account I: A Wound​

It was dusk and Meadowyn could not find her red cloak that she enjoyed to gaze upon. Though it were an insignificant decoration she thought it to be something special, as it was a bit of her home and she grew to treasure such things more as the days passed. She grew frustrated and sought throughout the house to no avail, she doubted that she could have lost it, for she seldom wore it. Then a thought came to her mind. 

I would that I could walk rightly again. I am a limp, a cripple. A shield-maiden of little use who has been cast into fate against her will. We are come to a town named Bree and found ourselves with no home to life, instead we live in a camp, lost. My sisters are mourning and Aegaldred's complaining has done us no good since we have arrived. The town of Bree lingers within our gaze and we haven't a clue how we shall live in their. Aegaldred does not know what to do, but how am I in the right when I do not know either.