Kiru fumbled with his beard. The talk of the Undead rising from their graves had most of the household up throughout the night, eager to shriek at even the slightest floorboard creaking, fearing that a wight may have invaded their home, yet Kiru was keen to settle their fears, that these rumours from the east were mere fancies of strange folk. Taking up a candle, he strolled through his city manor, enjoying renovations resulting from a good business deal involving rare, Karamjan spices and the finest silks out of Wuskanko.
Autumn had begun to take it's toll on the trees, he noticed. The leaves of the nearby Oaks had turned to their vibrate show of oranges and yellows, yet it was another orange and yellow that caught his gaze from the front window.
"A torch? Why is there anyone up at this hour?" Kiru pondered to himself, observing the watchman nail something to a nearby post and then stroll up the footpath to slip something through the Manor's door.
Hurrying downstairs, he picked up the leaflet, his face curling with disgust as he read the details of the royal decree.
"Three days? Gah, damn the Gods!" he muttered to himself, scrawling up the page as he a rang a bell to full rouse the other occupants of the household.