[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/pIVuUhF.png[/img]
[h3][i]Some journeys begin with a thousand steps….
…or end with a thousand tears[/i][/h3][/center]

High atop the northern mountains, several eyes stared into the valley below, towards a village seated near a great lake. Even through the snow and fog they could see the smoke billowing from the buildings, a sure sign of life. Three individuals, each adorned in thick furs, leathers and heavy, woolen cloaks had gone ahead of their group to confirm the veracity of their destination.

“Seems the old man’s information was accurate,” a thinner woman spoke to his left, “suppose we can’t kill him now…”


“Not that I’d think he’d let us,” a bulkier man replied to his right, “at least not without a proper fight anyway,” the man shrugged, then turned their attention towards him, “It’s your call Wraithblade, how do you want to handle this?”

Icy blue eyes continued their observation of the valley below before turning his eyes upwards to the heavens. The clouds obscured his vision, his brow furrowed in response as though that might pierce the veil of stratus above. It had been some time since he’d been able to witness the heavens, to see the formation of stars and the passage of the moon. Even before the sun had been stolen from the sky the tribal druids had long learned the understanding of the world we live on and its relation to the rotation of celestial bodies. How many days have passed? How long had it been since they left their village behind? The blizzard had blinded him to the passage of time and even now he could not see with clarity, but the weather was beginning to change in his favor.

“Aleksi?” The thinner woman prompted him, and in response Aleksi turned his gaze upon them instead. Since the old man had joined their group and spoke to them of this ‘Dawnhaven’ they were gazing upon now; opinions remained varied. Plenty wish to find safe asylum, a new home to start over now that the blight had claimed their home, leaving them destitute. On the other hand, Lunarians and the tribes have historically never gotten along and if the location of the town was true, Blightborn living among them were probably just as true. Everything was telling him under normal circumstances to avoid this place like the blight itself; but these are trying times.

[color=EB5406]“We go down, we meet with their leaders,”[/color] The man beside him scoffed and Aleksi glared at him, his voice remaining even, [color=EB5406]“I understand there is apprehension and distrust, but as protector of our people I must think of the rest of the tribe,”[/color] Aleksi’s eyes turned towards the path below, back to where the remainder of his tribe waited. [color=EB5406]“We have lost so much already…we cannot afford to lose what we have left.”[/color]

The man sighed then asked, “Then we are just to march our people down there? They’d think they were under attack, they’d slaughter us.”

“Even a blind fool may look upon us and see we are no army,” the woman beside him retorted.

[color=EB5406]“Perhaps, but greater fools have achieved worse for far less…still they need to see us as we are…”[/color] Aleksi began crunching his way back through the snow, [color=EB5406]“We go as far as we need to, then I alone will approach the gates as envoy.”[/color]


“Alone? Are you mad, what if things go wrong?” The woman exclaimed.

He stopped then turned to the both of them, [color=EB5406]“Then I trust both of you will see our people to safety, while I die fighting to buy you all time to escape,”[/color] again he turned and continued along the path, [color=EB5406]“speaking of the old man, where is he now?”[/color]

“In the back of his wagon…he said something about ‘sleep’ before handing the reins off to one of the younger boys.” The woman answered him.

Aleksi raised an eyebrow, grunted in acknowledgement and spoke of it no further. He had a duty to fulfill, people to see to safety and as far as the old man was concerned, he had earned himself another day in life.