Thorvall

{the sequel to "Of Confessions"}

Aeshaeidr followed the Oathlord into the mead-hall that had become his seat of power in recent weeks. With the high ceilings and openness of the main hall, the echo of their footsteps across the wooden floors only echoed back louder to her ears.

Howling. He had heard it too that night, and for all his jests, Thorvall had pulled the hide blanket tight about him.
Dawn was still a ways off, and sleep seemingly had no wish to embrace the Oathlord, and so he walked the ramparts of the makeshift fortress. 

Word-fame they hoarded in heaps, even now it lays glittering about them. A name that will wear out the tongues of men in it's telling. Sometimes a name is not enough to leave behind though. Sometimes we leave our friends in the earth, a mark of our deeds. 

It was The Oathsworn's first day in Cliving, they'd been appointed a space in which they might stay. Which in truth, put many in the company at edge. Seeing as the high ground rested above them. Yet they figured it was nothing more than their own paranoia. All of the company had seen blood-shed, and knew well what the low ground entailed.

Long and lonesome can the road to Edoras be, but I do enjoy my own company and rarely have the need to be among many. 

*Opens the book onto the long wooden table, looking up with each opening of the door, shifting uneasily with every sight of someone in black.  Taking some ink to page, she starts to write*

*taking a deep breath, then wincing, she continues*