Camp
Arciris curse the merchant he had passed in the late afternoon,
"you'll make the town before night fall easily my young friend, just stick to the west road. Can't miss it." stated the rug seller.
Two hours after dark all Arciris found was more road. Faced with the choice of wondering till morning, he decided to camp for the night. Climbing down from his horse he led the animal onto the side of the road. Striking flint to steel with practice ease , he soon had a small fire going. Turning to the horse, he lifted the saddle bags down, then removing the saddle, setting them aside, while he cared for the mounts needs. Completing the task and tying the horse to a nearby tree, Arciris set about make camp. Finding firewood proved no problem, there was several adequate logs and kindling to make a good fire. With dinner cooking, Arciris settled back to wait. Taking sword in hand he began work out the nicks. Damn Goblin's he thought, examining the small cut on his let forearm for infections, before returning to honing his sword. Who knew that ten of the bastards could hide in such a small cave. He managed to kill one and maim another, before charging the group , scattering them long enough to breakthrough. With the forest covering his retreat, he manage to lose them. Only then did he feel the sting upon his arm. It was a minor scratch and could be left to heel on it own. The smell form the cooking fire, pushed thought of Goblin's from his mind, as he sat back down to enjoy his meal. It would be the last for awhile, if he didn't find this damn town. His money was no good if there was no store around to spend it. Curse of the noble born, not often was he force to hunt for his supper, his skills were somewhat lacking. Even during his time as the master at arms, most time spend out camping, tended to be within a days ride form home. He pushed that thought of home away, it always led to memories of the day of celebrating his son birth. The dreams were bad enough. They would be there when he closed his eyes, there was no escaping them. With the clean plate back in his pack Arciris turned to his blanket roll, kicked of his boots, and covered himself. The night was cool, and a few more logs would keep back the cold. Sleep came.
Arciris looked over to his wife, she grew more beautiful every day. She stood, watching the barges floating along, all dressed up in ribbon and flowers, awaiting the guest to be herded aboard Turning her head she noticed him staring, she smiled warmly and looked down at the small bundle she carried. Their son Dunfrey, named after Arciris's father. He stepped towards her, arms encircling from behind, left hand gently caressing his son head. Then a screamed ripped out, spinning around Arciris could see riders charging down the river, swords swinging.
Arciris curse the merchant he had passed in the late afternoon,
"you'll make the town before night fall easily my young friend, just stick to the west road. Can't miss it." stated the rug seller.
Two hours after dark all Arciris found was more road. Faced with the choice of wondering till morning, he decided to camp for the night. Climbing down from his horse he led the animal onto the side of the road. Striking flint to steel with practice ease , he soon had a small fire going. Turning to the horse, he lifted the saddle bags down, then removing the saddle, setting them aside, while he cared for the mounts needs. Completing the task and tying the horse to a nearby tree, Arciris set about make camp. Finding firewood proved no problem, there was several adequate logs and kindling to make a good fire. With dinner cooking, Arciris settled back to wait. Taking sword in hand he began work out the nicks. Damn Goblin's he thought, examining the small cut on his let forearm for infections, before returning to honing his sword. Who knew that ten of the bastards could hide in such a small cave. He managed to kill one and maim another, before charging the group , scattering them long enough to breakthrough. With the forest covering his retreat, he manage to lose them. Only then did he feel the sting upon his arm. It was a minor scratch and could be left to heel on it own. The smell form the cooking fire, pushed thought of Goblin's from his mind, as he sat back down to enjoy his meal. It would be the last for awhile, if he didn't find this damn town. His money was no good if there was no store around to spend it. Curse of the noble born, not often was he force to hunt for his supper, his skills were somewhat lacking. Even during his time as the master at arms, most time spend out camping, tended to be within a days ride form home. He pushed that thought of home away, it always led to memories of the day of celebrating his son birth. The dreams were bad enough. They would be there when he closed his eyes, there was no escaping them. With the clean plate back in his pack Arciris turned to his blanket roll, kicked of his boots, and covered himself. The night was cool, and a few more logs would keep back the cold. Sleep came.
Arciris looked over to his wife, she grew more beautiful every day. She stood, watching the barges floating along, all dressed up in ribbon and flowers, awaiting the guest to be herded aboard Turning her head she noticed him staring, she smiled warmly and looked down at the small bundle she carried. Their son Dunfrey, named after Arciris's father. He stepped towards her, arms encircling from behind, left hand gently caressing his son head. Then a screamed ripped out, spinning around Arciris could see riders charging down the river, swords swinging.