rohan

He stared up into the darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he could just make out the lines of the rough hewn logs that supported the roof above him. He remembered how big and safe those logs had seemed as a child. His father had worked on them himself – with help from others in the town, of course – but to Bregoan, he was the hero. It had seemed impenetrable.

An icy chill ran the length of his body and fear seemed to pervade his mind from every angle. He fought it, countering the fear with pent-up anger and rage. He could not be stopped, would not be stopped. His blood seemed to run cold, and every part of his body screamed for him to stop. He hardened his heart, this was not real, it was summertime, the chill was just a figment of his imagination. Or perhaps… could it be? Could this actually be the same one as it had been years ago?

Talae sat cross-legged in the tall plain grass, her golden hair blending in with the golden blades. But her heart was not lifted by the quiet serenity. But a few months ago, a great tragedy had befallen their village. A Dunlending raiding party had pulled a foul stunt which resulted in the death or capture of almost all the women and children, and many of their horses. Many wondered if the village would even survive a blow like that. And in fact, many had left, choosing to relocate somewhere safer. But a few of the most stubborn and willful stayed. This had included Talae and her father.

26-08-3 RedStable