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The Black Marked Bard
Chapter 6: Brief History of the Empire

Chapter 6: Brief History of the Empire

What followed was the assembling of a truly pathetic looking army, Alayne had lived in the empire most his life and he'd seen house guards of a petty minor lady ransack villages that were larger forces that this 'army' that the nobles seemed so proud of as they watched them march from horseback.

It was going to end badly, of that Alayne was sure, maybe just for the soldiers, but hopefully for the lords too. He would witness as much as he could and write the tale of it all, he was a coward and in no way a man of action so he made it his duty to witness events such as this. Horrible acts that cost so many lives that were so avoidable, the only role he could play was to make sure others became aware of the misery their leaders caused and maybe stop it happening again, already history was littered with examples that proved his naivety.

In the months that followed Alayne watched hope drain from the hastily put together army day by day. Alayne had seen before the folly and bravado of young men as they marched to their deaths, they thought every fight was like something from a play and they were the main character destined to deflect arrows and drag riders off horses as they skipped along the battlefield hacking their way into legends.

But the months of sitting in wet grass and sinking mud in the fields that sat in the middle of the Forgotten Valley quickly wore them down.

No training, no motivational speeches or strategic talks, just a collection of conscripted older men and foolish overly optimistic youth volunteers who watched their poorly made equipment rust and their feet slowly start to bloat from the constant damp they were exposed to.

The only good thing was a selfish one for Alayne as he and Raven had become fairly close as they'd marched and eventually made camp.

To his surprise Raven had sought Alayne out on the many nights after a hard day's march to ask him questions about the empire, magic and other unknowns to him. Alayne could see it was out of loneliness more than anything, he was revered by the common man and ignored by the upper class. Alayne was the only person who spoke to him freely, well there was also an older man but their conversations were always short and forced despite obvious familiarity. The bard also enjoyed the talks, he was away from the safety of a city and despite the many campfires and hundreds of soldiers around him, he could feel the return of the watchers.

Always behind him, in the shadow of trees that lined the road, behind the many horses in their makeshift paddock, waiting for something. Maybe he was just paranoid -

You definitely are, there is nothing there he said to himself

But he was sure some of the others had noticed something as well, he'd seen men spending far too long looking over their shoulder until they wandered out of formation and got a smack across the ear. 5 or so people sitting around a campfire laughing would suddenly sit bolt upright at the sound of a branch snapping, as if they had been waiting for something to happen.

Something was out there, he wished he was just a paranoid fool.

The evening chats with Raven were a good way to distract himself for a few hours and sometimes the older man would sit with them as he had little friends amongst the rest of the army himself. Alayne had seen him pushed or swore at before a look from Raven silenced the offender, but he barely seemed interested in any of Alaynes tales and had no interest in what should be simply extraordinary revelations to a Rha'vandian man.

Raven was aghast to learn of not just goblins, but elves, taurosi, orcs and even gnomes, although the conversation took a dark turn when he had to reveal that the elves and orcs where almost extinct and the remnants of once great peoples were purposefully lost at sea on the floating city, and that the taurosi where now a conquered and enslaved race or how noone had seen a gnome in decades after what had been deemed 'The Squashing' in the first few years of the emperors reign.

That's how most of his stories went with Raven's line of questioning, eye opening revelations followed by the crushing reality of the empire's displays of depravity and dominance.

Jaycob, the older man who sometimes sat with them, had asked only one question.

It had been on the last day of their march, he had scouted ahead and come back unhappy at their leader's choice of war camp, and in what would become a constant source of resentment, his concerns were ignored. He'd sat down as AJ tried a dance he'd been learning from watching some of the younger soldiers on other nights, it went terribly but it was a bad dance in the boys' defence.

"What happened after we beat them?" He'd spoken as he sat, startling all 3 of them.

"The decimation is the only story I have heard and it's only spoken in whispers, did it not reach your shores?" The tale was legendary, the outcome of the only defeat the emperor ever felt.

They both shook their heads.

Alayne had to think for a moment, he looked around at tired faces sat around various fires around them, some listening in and trying to look disinterested as they did so, others making the most basic of small talk whilst considering their life choices.

They needed a little bit of hope, this wasn't a story for 2 broken men.

He threw AJ his tambourine and played some opening chords as he hoped between fires and jumped onto the back of a supply cart.

What followed started with the retelling of the battle of broken tooth beach, which of course they all knew as their country's biggest glory. How a few hundred men had pushed back the red wave, the empire that dominated every land without fail. The unbloodied youngest son Conquerous had come with his fleet to the only accessible point for a large scale assault in this land, there were many smaller ports and beaches where small forces could sneak in but Emperor didn't believe in stealth or subtlety, he wanted blood and for all to see and feel the force of his power.

It was obvious that the emperor was unable to understand the concept of hubris or the outcome that followed would have caused severe self reflection instead of anger and eventual brutality.

Conquerous had died at the hands of a nobody and had been sent back with whatever was left of the fleet. Ships had been broken on the hidden rocks that lay under the tide, and the waters had run red with the blood of the soldiers who had to skip through the sea to reach the shore as arrows pelted down on them.

This his audience knew, and they roared and cheered at the success of their fathers and grandfathers, and at Jaycob.

Now for the decimation, every soldier, sailor, fletcher, armourer who returned from Rha'vander, or helped plan the invasion or had a fingertip of an involvement in the supplying of the forces were lined up. The emperor had his generals walk down the line pulling out one in every 10 men forcing them to turn to face their fellows.

The rest had been hacked to pieces where they stood, throats slit and bodies cast into the ocean to be dashed against cliffs and devoured by the sea life who cared not for petty wars or evil emperor's

Those who had watched were then blinded, so the last thing they'd see was the deaths of their comrades, they were branded 'The failed' and forced to walk the empire penniless as a show of the emperor's mercy and his wrath.

There was a hushed silence that fell over the crowd, he had expected this, it was one thing to push a faceless army back to the waves and cheer about it, it was another to hear of the horrors they avoided and pushed onto others.

The story didn't end there, Emperor Aniamatatus had other sons, one of which was born seconds before he received news of his son's death "at the hands of you fine people", and he gestured out to quieter cheers than before as they all learned and listened intently. He considered his newborn infant a curse, he vowed one son was all he would take from him, so he gathered up the small boy in a bundle and walked out to the shore facing where his fleet would be coming back from their failure. He placed the crying boy in the water and held him there until the crying stopped. Decimous he was named after the act that he preceded , and any bard or chronicler who shared his story was hung, drawn and quartered in the palace grounds from that day forward.

"Well, except this one of course" and he winked at the crowd.

Alayne had wanted to boost morale, but he'd noticed the lords and ladies watching some ways back from the crowd and had pivoted slightly to show the horrors of war, even after the fighting was done. He doubted it would make a difference but who else was going to stop them before they killed everyone here.

The lows of the story had cast doubt into the minds of bloodthirst and the highs had caused morale to pick up a little at the thought of what a small force can do when forced to fight, and that was enough to get them through the night and through one more days march to when they could finally rest and make camp.

Jaycob had felt relief at first that had settled in when the word got round they finally arrived at the war camp.

That relief quickly turned to confusion when they'd crested the green ridge of the valley and seen what he had seen the day before whilst scouting, they now looked down at a wide plain of swampy mud-land with long overgrown grass scattered across. The only buildings were some rotten jetty's used by fisherman decades ago that you'd have to be mad to step onto now and a large stone religious building that had a tall tower which had long since crumbled with blackened wood sticking out the top attached to a long two storey structure that was all surrounded by crumbing walls that had a working gate but enough holes to make it obsolete.

This, without debate, had obviously been taken by the lords, their children, their servants and their horses.

Confusion had then turned to annoyance as soldiers lost boots and socks to the mud as they made walkways to get around and the realisation that they would be constantly damp set in amongst everyone.

Jaycob had joined Raven, and the bard for some reason, in strategic meetings with the lords, also in attendance was general Kace who had been dragged along out of retirement just like himself, they'd both fought in the last war of this land and with all the wealth and experience that they brought Jaycob had assumed they would be listened to and sought out for advice on tactics and training to ensure this hastily built 'army' of workers and kids where in any way ready for an actual battle.

Instead they, and Raven, had been mainly ignored or worse yet belittled, as the lords stuffed their faces with lavish meals that never seemed to stop despite diminishing rations amongst the soldiers and they talked amongst themselves like they were at home and hadn't recently committed treason. It was embarrassing for Jaycob to be treated like a child, and he knew when the soldiers died in the field they'd curse their names as well as the lords.

Jaycob found his hands bleeding from clenching his fist nearly daily, he longed to walk off and return to his family who needed him but if he was caught he'd be killed, instead he had to stay, be ignored and hope he could survive the eventual battle.

After one to many days been able to hold a sword due to the cuts on his hands he decided to stop attending the meetings, he wasn't summoned despite his absence and saw General Kace walking the camp a week or so later during the time of the meetings, clearly he'd also come to his senses and realised it was pointless.

Only Raven stayed, he continued to try and get through the arrogant fools in charge, pointless as it was.

Even his friend the bard had given up quickly, he'd been the first to stop attending, he hadn't lasted long.

Alayne stood behind the large table they all gathered around, paper scattered everywhere, little toy soldiers lying dead on the floor and goblets of wine held in every noble-born hand as they dismissed General Kace and his concerns over the swampy battleground.

"You have been away from battle to long Kace, The unnamed king knows not our lands and will fall right into our trap, this battle will last moments and we can all return home as heroes" Agelmar had looked pleased with himself as he spoke, they'd all straightened their backs as if this was the greatest battle plan ever concocted.

"Sorry, Sorry. But that's absolute cow bollocks." Alayne had been so good at keeping quiet and letting those around the table discuss things, playing only his lightest tunes for them whilst he listened, but this was too far and only getting worse. He watched Raven flinch as he spoke and he gave him a look of anger, shock and fear over what was to come.

"Evening everyone, Alayne Ducard Master bard, yes that one. Couldn't help overhearing your 'plan' if you can call it that and I just had a very, very, tiny, almost pointless, little note or two to make. Number One-" He strummed a single string of his lute, no illusions or tricks but he played his strings to match the natural rhythm his voice was taking.

"You speak of the 'Unnamed King' as if he is known to you, when clearly he is not, now the Red Emperor's children are bloodthirsty monsters capable of no real traits of a decent person, no offence Sildaris. However the unnamed son is not really one of these. He is less than a bastard. He by all accounts is just a rat the Emperor allows to inhabit his halls. He is not of his family and I strongly doubt you have been conquered, you may wish to think how he claimed the throne so quickly with no mention of war. This is implies he has strong backing from the southlanders and they do know these lands, so your trap will fail"

Ravens expression had settled as he let things play out, he knew there was little he could do, the others though were furious but seemed to be having trouble finding their tongues, although Sildaris was the quickest to recover:

"I..."

But was quickly cut back off.

"Never interrupt a bard's performance, it's bad luck, and I strongly believe you'll need luck. Now Secondly, this is it? You believe you 3 are gifted enough with your combined non existing battle experience to quash an attack from a boy who has been surrounded by the greatest military minds in any land since birth? You ignore your generals and commit all your number to one fight on your own land, on bad terrain when you're bound to be outnumbered, to be quite honest when I tell a tale or write a song it's need to have more than a single slaughter, it's a little anticlimactic, don't you agree?"

"Stick to writing uninteresting tales and uninspired songs, we each have our purpose in this world and we shouldn't stray"

Sildaris had his fists clenched so tight they may burst but it wasn't him cutting the Bard down, instead Lord De'Clare had lost his temper. Alayne found even the most kind or dull looking highborn goes close to madness when their impotence, sorry omnipotence is called into question.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

He still wore a smile on his face, but his eyes were staring holes through Alayne. That look was the only threatening thing about him and he couldn't hold it for long, but Alayne ducked his head before going too far.

"Of course, Apologies my lords and ladies I have spoken out of turn. I will return to my uninspired songs."

Alayne plucked his strings softly again returning to safe soft melodies as one by one those at the table dropped him from their gaze. They all stared at the table either in thought or frustration, it took some time for conversation to resume but when it did Alayne found himself inspired, like he'd been waiting for this very moment as his lute became a fraction louder as he strummed:

"O The people were led by their leaders of course

But they died o so quickly each man and his horse

Their was plan was such shit everybody had known

When they spoke it out loud all their generals did groan

To home they fled back with tails between legs

As the people they abandoned all came for their heads

Now these fools we remember those idiots three

Silardis, Aglemar and De'Clare are thee

Recalled throughout time for those they have killed

Though not by sword, spear or bow they were skilled

They killed through ignorance, arrogance and faux confidence

Sildaris, Agelmar and De'Clare failure in abundance"

Raven had punched him in the gut and dragged him outside, Alayne had smiled in the shadows of the ruined courtyard.

"You go to far bard"

"I fear I don't go far enough, you know how this ends if things don't change"

"This isn't the way to get through to them"

"There is no way Raven, surely you realise this? You need to think of more drastic measures than my songs or your mild mannered attempts at interrupting their meetings"

"Meaning?"

"For once I've said enough, if you wish to go back to your pompous fools and bang your head against that brick wall I won't stop you. I'm going to find an audience that needs me"

He was hinting at treason, which they both knew of course, it was the most drastic of options but Alayne feared it was the only way for the people here to survive, and it wasn't really treason, it was but it also wasn't, it all depended on who won between them and the unnamed king really.

Raven had sighed and walked away whilst Alayne was deep in though obviously more frustrated with his situation than Alayne.

Over the weeks Raven voiced his considerable frustrations to Alayne frequently as they met along with AJ in his small tent that was pitched against the outer wall not far from the abbey's gate. Alayne prodded him for details of conversations; the more he knew the more he could relay to the outer world when this was over.

He regretted, only slightly, his rashly performed song.

"I have questions for you first bard, I am owed from a day spent in my company am I not?" Raven reminded him of their arrangement every time they met up, as if Alayne would forget.

"Of course my friend, what would you like to know this evening, more on Goblins? Dragons? Ogres? Fairies?"

Alayne had toyed with Raven by leaving such threads dangling, wasting questions on such fantastical beasts that were just that, fantasy, not everything was as real as the Goblin people.

"Are Drag-No you will not do this again. If your magic is real, are there others like you? Why is there none in Rha'vander?"

AJ grunted from his place by Alaynes side and held two of his 3 fingers up.

"Well noted AJ, that was 2 questions, tut tut, but we can let them get the best of us for a change can't why"

AJ didn't agree and huffed as he crossed his arms over his small green belly.

"Firstly.." he clicked his fingers and crack could be heard and Ravens head snapped to a side, cheek already turning red as the lanterns illuminated the small space "there is no one like me in the world over"

Raven steadied himself and checked himself for blood, of which there was none on this occasion, and gave Alayne a tired stare whilst AJ giggled.

"Secondly, 50 or so years ago the Emperor gathered, voluntarily at first and forcibly not long after, every semi capable mage in one place. The Magehold, A massive fortress dedicated to study, to cracking the nature of our world. No more than a few years later it was burned near to the ground, every one inside was dead and although it is still denied to this day there is no one who could have accomplished this but the Emperor himself."

"And since then, surely there are more with your skills?"

3 fingers were raised by AJ as he jabbed his elbow into Alaynes ribs and pointed at his hand.

Alayne held his hand out to settle him.

"It's fine boy. My gifts aren't learnt, they are just there and I've found no one with similar gifts in my travels or through tales or in the histories, I don't know why I am, I just am. Normal magic on the other hand was a study, whilst you may be born with talent much like smithing or swordplay, a wielder had to dedicate their life to learn its mysteries gaining power through practice. Otherwise a child who can light a candle without thinking will live to a hundred and never progress beyond that basic spell. It's essentially a lost art and it will eventually become a legend in the empire like it has here."

Raven sat back against one of the wooden poles holding his canvas up and said nothing for a time. It was a heavy subject and one he knew too little about for his own liking despite his searches. There were inconsistencies in how the Magehold massacre happened, which was normal for something 50 years in the past but something still didn't sit right with Alayne.

AJ gave a long yawn beside him and Alayne patted both his knees as he rose.

"Looks like that is my que to leave for the evening."

Raven gave him a nod and pulled the tent flap to his side up without standing and Alayne ducked underneath with AJ following behind, his hand tightly wrapped in the bards.

Their own sleeping space wasn't far from Ravens but it felt longer in the dark, the shadows just a tad too thick in places.

He held AJ tighter, for the boys sake obviously and walked at pace, almost dragging the little goblin after him.

Those conversations were a highlight to Alayne, nothing else of much note happened, he'd spend days walking the fields with AJ chatting to the soldiers, watching first hand as they lost their smiles and motivation. It was the 4th week after they arrived that the first deserters had been executed, unsurprisingly this hadn't improved the mood. Alayne had tried a few performances to lighten things but he just reminded them of the life they'd walked away or been dragged from to come here.

For the most part he kept to himself. He and AJ had found a back passage up to the ruined tower of the abbey and after a little effort had made it into a safe and dry place for themselves where they could oversea the rampant misery below and if they lay just right they could see through the crumbling boards and tiles, in what remained of the upper floors and roofs, to see the moon and stars on a clear night.

It was small and tight, no place for a watcher to hide and from the window he could see for miles, all open marshland, hills and the cliff to the east, nowhere to hide from his gaze. Despite the misery and impending doom he felt mostly safe here.

He'd lost something when the watchers had appeared, as much as he loved performing and entertaining a crowd and, his time in the cities and towns getting to know various kinds of strange people and he was never more alive than when chasing the action and watching history happen before his eyes. But the real moments of beauty where it was just him and AJ alone on a patch of grass or nestled into the roots of an overgrown tree and just enjoying the peace and freedom of the night, life was chaos for the most part but those moments on the road between destinations where moments that no performance could out match.

Alayne had recovered that feeling somewhat here in this tower, where the eyes of the shadows couldn't reach him.

There was one night though that things took a twist he hadn't seen coming and he'd barely been able to catch his breath since. After nearly a season in a war camp, weather turning from wet and windy to cold and icy with occasional icy rain to make things better, AJ had started to grow bored and it had taken longer than Alayne would have guessed to the boy's credit. He began to adventure out alone and explore the upper floors and lofts of the abbey, jumping from cross beams to cross beams that strained under even his minimal weight. Alayne had allowed it up to a certain point, whilst the main abbey was allowed the upper tower above where they slept was off limits.

"It's to ruined, even your light feet could bring the whole thing down upon us"

AJ had raised himself on his tiptoes to demonstrate just how nimble he could be.

"I know you're very soft of foot, but it's still no"

And like all children he hadn't argued the point for hours and then snuck off and done it anyway, because all children regardless of race always follow instructions and respect their parents or parental like mentor figures.

No, of course they'd spent an entire night on the topic going in circles until Alayne finally just left their tower, a decision which in hindsight was terrible and one that made AJ's next steps obvious.

Alayne had returned several hours later, expecting AJ to be asleep, he still hadn't realised how obvious a misstep he'd made in leaving. It started to become apparent when he could voices as he climbed the broken and rotten steps to his tower, the grunting of AJ was obvious but a second voice set Alayne on edge. He had his lute in his hand without realising and crept towards the room.

A traitorous floorboard gave his approach away though before he could round the corner and silence fell in the room as he stepped out.

AJ stood like every child that had ever been caught with something he shouldn't, he was in the dead centre of blackened floor, feet together in an unnatural stance and hands by his side palms open and facing away from Alayne, a stance to hid something without looking like your hiding something whilst obviously making it look like your hiding something.

"What have you done"

Alayne didn't lower his lute, something was still wrong here with whatever it was he was hiding.

AJ said nothing but refused to meet Alaynes glare, as Alayne took a step forward AJ tensed up just for a second as if to step and block his path before thinking better of it.

He sighed and stepped aside.

There, behind where the boy had stood was a skull, a human like skull, it was a light brown or very very dirty white depending on how the light from the moon hit it, with large patches of black or dark brown as if it were burnt. It was clearly very old with any trace of flesh long since gone, with few teeth remaining and a large finger sized hole in the forehead.

Alayne scanned the rest of the room, someone else had been here, he'd heard them, was the boy smart enough to divert his attention with this prop.

"Who else was here?"

AJ pointed to the skull without hesitation and grunted.

"Just you and him...him being the skull?"

AJ nodded as it was the only obvious answer

"Does the skull talk?"

He'd seen some odd things, some harrowing things, but never heard of anything so ridiculous but still AJ nodded whilst giving the skull a look as if it was to respond itself.

Alayne, knowing he was alone, gave one last look over his shoulder anyway to ensure no one was watching before crouching down in front of the charred ancient bone and clearing his throat.

"Do...Do you talk?"

He rushed it out, almost tripping over his words and losing his usual eloquence. He kept his gaze on AJ throughout, curious on the boy's reaction, hoping to catch him in the lie.

"I tal...tal"

Alayne didn't need it to finish, he jumped up and kicked the skull against the far wall where it left an indent on the already damaged wooden beam in the centre of the stonework.

AJ squealed and slapped his hands to his mouth as he did so, quickly running to the indented beam and picking up the...thing

"Don't touch it!"

AJ barked at Alayne before whispering something to the skull

"He can't be your friend; it's a skull"

AJ grunted back getting animated as he spoke, Alayne stepped back affronted.

"I am not just a mouth, and that's just a mean metaphor. That is literally a skull, get rid of it"

"Please do not kick me ag...ag..ag"

"It doesn't even move when it talks and it hasn't got a tongue. This defies logic, sense and everything I know"

AJ walked back over to Alayne in the centre of the room, wiping the crown of the skull with his arm as if to remove imaginary dirt and damage from the charred bit bone. He grunted one last time and stuck his tongue out at Alayne.

"'Then maybe I don't know very much'...I..I...You're not keeping it!"

AJ said nothing further, they both knew he'd won and Alayne might as well have been shouting into the wind for all the good it did.

The boy and his new creepy companion retreated to a corner to continue the earlier discussion Alayne had interrupted, although it was clear the head didn't understand anything AJ said he seemed enthusiastic in his nonsensical replies none the less.

Alayne kept his distance, for awhile anyway, perched on what remained of a window ledge or maybe it was just a hole in the wall that had coincidently crumbled in a way that allowed a brooding mentor slash parent to watch over his ward whilst he conversed with the undead.

He watched and waited, plotting to take the skull as soon as AJ fell asleep. Now it was a waiting game, a game of cat and mouse, who would fall asleep first, the gracefully ageing bard who had to many late nights to keep track of or the young goblin apprentice who had more pent up energy than what remained in the war camp over Alaynes shoulder.

Alayne was not optimistic and for the first time in his tower, with his back to the camp and dark night air, he could feel eyes upon him. Despite being several stories up he felt like if he turned at that precise moment he would see what waited for him in the dark, staring at him from over his shoulder. It was almost like a whole creature was on his back, he felt tight and compressed.

He needed to watch AJ, but hope seemed to have evaporated out of him leaving him frantic and pale. Unable to move and unsure if he wanted to.

With a shaking hand he grabbed onto the rough wall to his left, digging his nails into the brickwork and feeling it crumble along with his splitting fingernails he dragged himself off the window ledge, leaving a very slight trail of blood on the wall as he pulled.

As soon as he was out of sight of the - NOTHING - he felt like he was free and his whole body shook as a breath he didn't know he'd been holding was released.

He slumped down the corner of the room, landing on his heels and keeping an eye on his ward who hadn't noticed the moment of panic. Alayne held his head in his hands and tried to control himself.

You can't pretend it's nothing anymore, whatever that was it was real

So he was in agreement with himself at last, no more self deception.

But now what?

Jaycob was sitting on the hill that they'd crested weeks ago that marked the start of this terrible place. He was staring out far into the distance where Burtyne would be, on a clear night it would be visible, but the night wasn't clear, not over where he was looking anyway.

You could be mistaken for thinking a large fog rolled in and covered the town he made his home outside, but holding the letter in his hand, he knew it wasn't.

It was smoke, smoke from a fire far too big to be a forge, or a camp, the kind of fire that only comes from some form of destruction. When something has been burned from the world that could never grow back.

His knuckles were white and streaks of blood were running over the crumpled paper from the wounds that had barely healed from his time in the nobles' strategy feasts.

The messenger had said nothing, he had orders to find Jaycob, deliver this and that was all, he clearly was of Burtyne by the look he'd given the exiled farmer. He'd just passed the letter and chucked his sword into his hands.

His old sword that had sat locked away in case his family needed it, now blacked and fire licked but still as deadly. The scabbard it was housed in on the wet grass was worse off, like a long piece of charcoal with holes that the blade could be spotted through.

Jaycob turned and looked over an army that was doomed to die and then focused on the abbey building he knew all the lords would be drinking and enjoying themselves in.

He read the message one more time, he didn't need to, the words were a scar on his heart, but he wanted to.

Throwing the paper to the ground he drew the black marked blade and marched down the hill leaving the sheath to fall atop the letter.

The words would only be clear for a few moments before the constantly wet ground ruined it for anyone that may stumble across it.

Dear Jaycob

I am sorry to have to give you this news but there seems few else here who are willing.

A group of youths attacked your families homestead in the night, I can not be sure of the details and am not willing to guess.

All I can tell you is a fire was started.

We got to it too late, and I am sorry to have write these words and sorry more that you must read them.

Your family's bodies were recovered from the ruins of the house, there were no survivors.

I have had them buried on the farm next to your son.

The only other object of value that was recovered was the sword I hope is now in your hands

There are no words I can give to comfort you. I am truly sorry.

Yours regretfully

Faldeir