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Viewing Single Post From: Frostbitten

For a boy of only ten, tired from his long travels, two longswords were a heavy weight to tote. Squinting at the meekness of the town, he wondered how people could come to live in such a barren place. He missed the comforting arms of a keep, where men walked the battlements all times of the night. Can a town be without a blacksmith? He wondered to himself, walking the length of the town, and coming to find no armorer.

When a voice found him, he turned to face it, soft brown hair falling in his face.

"Sir," He said nervously, " yes a blacksmith, sir. My knight needs the nicks in his sword hammered out. Do you know of one, sir?"

At the stables:

The squires had kicked up some muss, and two of them had taken to wrestling in the snow outside of the stable. Dayton never took the time to learn any of their names, none other than his own (who had perished in the woods), and of course Leraway's. He thought back briefly to the scene, they had to dig shallow graves in the snow. Leraway had said they would come back with spades to give them a proper one.

"Quit. Blondie, baldie, help me with the horses. You can finish kissing each other afterwards." He gave his sarcastic grin.

When he had knocked on the stable door, Dayton heard some rustling from inside, and what he thought to be the noise of a women.

"Three horses and a cart." He said blind confidence, not caring to engage the man in depth.

"The boys will sleep here too, got a place for them in the hay?" He smiled to the man, noticing the young women.

I thought county bumpkins only slept with sheep.

At the Inn:

"You will address him only as 'Count' in my presence, bastard." The old knight steamed.

"Calm yourself, Sir Oryn." Leraway said.

The old knight gave him a look of distrust.

"He wants to talk to you, Brown. What of, he wouldn't tell me. Though why you made us chase you all the way out here, I'd like to know." Leraway again.

"The scene is quite nice, isn't it?" He broke off for a moment, looking about the place.

Leraway put his elbows on the table, leaning his head forward a moment to slick his hair back. Frustrated by the nonchalant of his Lord fathers bastard.

"Spiced cider sounds magnificent." Sir Oryn omitted to the serving women.

"Five more ciders and eight stews, thank you." Leraway raised his head, "Do you have any extra chairs? And yes, we'll be needing some rooms. Three should suit us just fine."

"A storm?" Brown shifted in his shackles, "How fortunate."

"I'll be needing some wine as well, two bottles if you have them." Leraway told the women.

He looked around the room for a moment, tracing over each figure. Not long enough to rouse suspicion, but long enough to see what everyone was doing. His lids narrowed as he caught sight of a hairy form on a rug. His eyes fell away for a moment, finding his fathers bastard.

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Frostbitten · Hiskarin Mountains


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