The Woad Rebellion

Hunted

Arik and Aern had ridden the horse fairly hard the last leg of the journey. To rest the gelding Arik decided to dismount and walk it back into the village leaving Aern dozing in the saddle. It had been a slow and peaceful journey down from the northern end of the valley on foot. However, just as the pair were within sight of the village Arik heard a noise which also startled the horse, but the valley echo had been distorted by the wind. He had thought it possibly a bear. But bears arent known for activity during winters, not unless rabid or starving. Even so best to be cautious, Arik found himself following training, listening for further sounds and adjusting his belt and sheath for faster sword draw. It was a grim nostalgia that had been engraved into his very bones and probably unnecessary so close to home.

Passing the first few houses on the road in Risvale, Arik determined they were probably safe so relaxed his guard a little. Not long now they would be home, warm dry and safe. A mead with father should be in order, maybe the old smith would know something about metal skin or the shadow golems. For he always loved tall tales and fireplace talk. With no more daylight Arik had to light a linen and straw torch to help illuminate the path. Which is when the young soldier saw a commotion by the palisade gates. Several locals were creating a rabble about something, directed at one of the town guards.

As the former soldier drew closer to the gathering he noticed that the guard they were arguing with was Cresius. Arik swore, Cresius was known to be an unreasonable man that hated the Icanii and anyone not of Imperial blood for that matter. The townsfolk wouldn't get any cooperation from him. Just as Arik came into earshot, he heard Cresius saying "Probably just a bear or a pack of wolves. We don't have the men to send anyone into the hills, I'm sure you're all just are imagining things!" Several of the crowd turned looking almost startled by the sudden appearance of the smiths son. Although Arik was sure he had made his presence fairly obvious.

"'Is that young Arik? The smith son? Come closer lad let the crowd see ye" came a curt greeting from amongst the crowd. Walking slowly towards the group Arik announced himself.

"Pleasant eventide to you all, I am indeed Arik the Smithson. Whatever brings all of you out into the cold tonight?"

"We all 'ere on account of the screaming we heard from up the torr. The last of which was guttural and sad sounding. These others say they gon' seen an broken cart, which they passed on way up 'ere too." Came the same gruff voice that had offered the previous greeting. Arik could see it was old man Malcurn, with a fleece of sheepskin draped over his shoulders.

"Nonsense, just your imaginati..." Arik waved his hand at Cresius, who having been cut short snarled at Arik with an intense loathing. "Please let the man finish officer" requested the smiths son.

"Saw your father pas' on his way home, not too long after he had gone did come the screams." Uttered the old man. "We com' up an' get a guard to investigate. But theys sayin' probably just wolves and dismissin' us tribes folk. I'm tell ye something worrying afoot there is."

"Aye!" sounded the voice of a young tribesman in the back of the crowd. "We heard the screams; we live close by you Arik. Was clear as day screams!"

"It's clear everyone is worried. But if I go scout the western tor seein' as the guards are busy. Would that help at all?" Replied Arik to the worried Malcurn.

"Aye it would! You fought with the fangs didn't ye lad?" said the man in sheepskin.

Aern had awoken startled partway through the encounter. only to catch the end of the conversation. Arik just smiled.

"The breastplate gave it away right?" he said as he then chuckled. "I'll go take a look then. Where's this cart?"

"The carts south, on the route to yer home Arik." came a younger voice from the back of the crowd.