[h1]Lorea[/h1]
[h2]Neme[/h2]

At the village of Neme, in the east of the land, was a peculiar sight to behold. A structure of the ancient world; a tower of imposing height, fallen in ruinous disrepair, but never the less utilized by the horse lords of the plains as a watchtower. One such horse lord was there this day, and many riders with him. 

Alvor sat atop his horse, peering through squinted eyes over the sunbathed grasslands that surrounded him. It was a great day; not a cloud as far as the eye could see, and a gentle breeze to cool the heat from the otherwise punishing sun. He could spot a few of the horses in the herd some distance away, almost obscured by a large hill. He turned to face the sun and closed his eyes, concentrating on the whispering sound and soft caress of the wind, and for a moment he was at peace. The moment didn't last, however.

He heard her approach before she spoke, but pretended not to. She came up right next to him and put a hand on his steed. It welcomed her touch.

"We're getting ready to move, my lord" she said, her voice as deep and rich as always. He had always admired her for that voice; had quite frankly been jealous of it. "The day is not getting any younger."

He smiled and slowly turned his face from the sun and towards her, opening his eyes and meeting hers. "And neither are we, Sparrow. Tell me, how long have we been doing this? And for how much longer must we go on?"

She returned his gaze, unwavering. "We have been doing it for as long as we've had to, and will continue doing it for as long as is required."

He chuckled, slowly nodding his head. "Ah, yes. Then tell me, why are we doing this? To what end?"

"We do it for our people, my lord. So that they are provided for, and so that others know not to step on them for fear of us." Her expression, he noticed, did not change throughout her answer. Neither did her tone. She meant what she said, believed every word.

"Very well," he sighed, turning his face towards the sun once more. "One final question. What are we doing?"

Sparrow cocked an eyebrow. "We are intercepting a caravan, my lord."

"And why is that?"

"They did not pay proper respects, nor toll, as they entered our lands, my lord. We're making sure they pay."

"And what will they pay, Sparrow?"

"Silver, if they can."

"And if they cannot?"

"Blood."

He smiled a sad smile. [i]Of course. Blood.[/i]

He grasped the spear that he'd stuck in the earth next to him and held it high. "Tell them to mount up, Sparrow." he said, his eyes on the horizon. "We're going hunting."

She nodded in reply and quickly marched off towards the camp. It wasn't long before he heard the horns and the drums of war sounding behind him, and soon after, the thunder of hooves. As they moved out of the village, he looked once again to the blue skies above. For all of its innocence, he felt a red day was coming.