Tuesday, January 28, 2014

The Burning

They were coming down the hill all in a line.  Swords swinging from their hips, spears pointing towards the sky.  The hunt had been successful.  There were three boars each one carried by four men.  The leader of the hunting party, Sir Varin of Lance, rode a mighty steed with a black coat.  The beast rode proudly at the head of the party, its head held high and its eyes focused straight ahead.

Children came running from village to see the party return.  Women holding babes stood and watched from their doorsteps.  Many women had husbands returning in the party.  Lady Syra, the wife of Sir Varin, stood at the doorway of the min hall waiting for her husband to come to her.  She wanted to run to him, but she knew this is would be improper of her.  So instead she waited with bated breath.

The old Lord Targin of Brhee also waited outside the main hall.  He carried a book with him as he almost always did.  His son Tomahs was returning that day as well.  All the young lads who had not gone on the hunt and joined in the returning party and walked with the hunters.

When Sir Varin rode up to the main hall and got off his horse his wife then ran to him and they embraced.  She beamed at him.  The days they were apart had been difficult for her, and for him, though the hunt had occupied him enough.

"How was it?" she asked.

"The hunt," said Sir Varin loudly to all gathered around, "was successful!  Tonight we feast good people of Brhee!"

The people cheered and laughed with excitement.  The children all continued to laugh and dance around and peasant folk all began to chatter among one another.

That night the feast was held in the main hall, but there were so many people that tables had to be set up outside.  The three boars were roasted and served along with an abundance of vegetables and the finest ale and wine.  People talked and laughed and sang songs of merriment.  The children played on the floor.  They chases each other or threw bones for the dogs and played with the cats with small balls of string.  It was a happy night.

But deep out of the woods a great evil crawled.  The Goracks came from their caves.  They brought torches with their wicked battle axes.  The Goracks were not human.  They were devil-like creatures with cruel horns that twisted out of their ugly heads.  They were up to ten feet tall, but usually no smaller than eight.  They had thick muscular arms for ripping and tearing.  The Goracks sole purpose in life was destroy all humans.  They hated humans with a passion.  They loved nothing more than to destroy them.

The Goracks came to the town and began to light it on fire.  Everyone was attending the feast and by the time someone saw the fires it was too late.  They were raging all around and spreading closer and closer to the main hall.  The villagers were frightened and women and children cried.
Sir Varin walked out to the front the hall and drew he sword.  he raised it into the air.

"Cursed be you Goracks!" he shouted.

It was answered by a monstrous bellow.  A victorious bellow.

And Brhee burned.

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