Brynleigh

Hertha looked up from her studied examination of a box of nails, a gate hinge and a small eating knife. The double doors to the armory and forge swung open in a manner suggesting someone was not totally at ease that day.

“Did you get out of the wrong side of the bed this morning, cousin, or is it something I said?” 

An oath is not something to be lightly made. Not if you have any honour, any integrity. Not if you have any doubt you can keep it. And oaths once made are held most highly among our people. Aye, oaths and promises alike can rule your life, can cost your life...can take your freedom from you.

I was never one for oath making. 

 

Ride, ride, ride, Men of the Mark!

Hear the horns, heralding their time,

One.. two... and step back… one.. two... and step back… trying to increase the speed... one, two and I’m out of balance again... stumbling back, instead of the single steady step required. It is hard to practice the basic counter maneuver I learned all those years ago, with the left arm in a sling and broken ribs not fully healed. The throbbing headache is not helping either.

Been a while where I weren't goin' so often to the Pony on account there was supper waitin' for me back home, now Lumina lives there with me, but she been away a little while now doin' some business of her own -- not sure what, maybe her healer work. So I'm back to having supper at the Pony most nights, and sometimes lunch too, and so I been seein' other folk, which has been nice.