Arrowhaven

The wind blew through the tall Man's unkept hair and rough beard, as he stood upon his horse and atop the grassy hill. He could now feel the weight of his gear, his swords sheathed inside their well-made scabbards hanging down from his back, the armored pads on his shoulders and the leather belt around his strong waist  Finally his boots, made of fine black leather, carrying pieces of dried mud and dust, a sign of the long road that lied behind him, now almost to an end.

It was nearly dawn by the time Lyfrid returned to the Manor, but she could not sleep, she was wide awake.  The young woman selected something simple to redress, tied on a large apron and hurried herself to the kitchen after her tantrum subsided.  There she found a sealed parchment, it was obvious it was the stationary of the lord of the Manor.  Though the Cook could not read, she had learned to spot a few words, one of them being her name when written so she

Lyfrid burst into the manor, stomped her way to her room.  There she tore off her dirty gown, though it was still in perfect shape other than the street dirt, it was ruined in her mind.  She balled the cream baldaquin dress and threw it into the fireplace in her room.  The fabric immediately burst into a hot flame, a lot like the woman's temper earlier that day in Bree.

She had a way of making friends with the odd sorts, maybe because Lyfrid herself was just as odd.  No one gave her a side ways glance at the old ruins out the Greenway, but there was a strong possibility that could change after her discovery in Trestlebridge that early afternoon.  Being it was no longer a good idea to conduct her rune reading at Amon Raith, Balisan had seen to that by his wandering out of the cottage, she needed a new place to ply her trade.

The light of a new day was just beginning to rise over the hillsides surrounding Arrowhaven.  A messenger from the ranger, Saeradan, had arrived just moments before.  After summoning Sir Gaildrin, one of her personal guards, Alkawen sent the knight to assemble any of the

From the top of the slab of rock that jut out past the line of birch, Sybri and her horse stood silently overlooking the Loudwater below.  The scout's vantage point provided a good view of whoever or whatever crossed the river.  She wasn't looking for anything in particular, she was just watching. 

The last of the attendants had left for the evening.  Alkawen wandered through the halls snuffing out candles but stoking the last of the fires in the many fireplaces within.  Balisan had retired to his quarters for the night.  Some of the Knights and Septarians were resting in the dorter.  The Lady's home was just down the hill from the manor but she rarely rested there.  Tonight was no exception to that normality, Alkawen was deep in reflectiv

Long have they know each other and their friendship was one of convenience, respect and necessity more than mutual admiration or love, at least that would be how Lyfrid would describe it.  They had taken employment at the Inn due to Lyfrid's insistence.  She was tired of the never ending roads, lack of a solid roof, scrounging for each silver and the Inn seemed as good a place as any to acquire what she wanted.