I was awake much of the night, suffering from insomnia, becoming increasingly irritated with my inability to fall asleep. Despite that, I was comfortable, sitting there at the end of the hall in a decorated oak armchair, fashioned with the pelts of wolves and wool blankets. The hall was warm compared to the exterior, and soothingly quiet for an early morning; nothing but the snoring of guests and the crackling of fire.
A brief knock at the door disturbed the room as it slowly crept open, the distinctive screeching of seasoned hinges echoed throughout the hall; some of the guests were aroused from their slumber.
Wonderful...another day, another courier
, I thought.
A guard held open the door as they entered.
A courier indeed.
He walked the length of the hall, stepping over flipped benches and sleeping drunks.
"Jor Ulfrsson, Chvetin ov tha Far-.", he began, seeming to have trouble pronouncing a common word.
A peculiar fellow. He doesn't seem to be a local...
"The Feyrks", I assist him. "The Feyrks", he continued. "I come withe news frome the southe.", he reaches into his sack, unveiling a scroll, handing it to me.
"Thank you. You do us a good service." gesturing towards him, "Come, take this," handing him a few coins, his eyes brightening "Eat your fill and rest, my friend." He nods his understanding, before taking his leave.
I stand from sitting, stretching and begin to open the scroll. I skim over the letter.
A battle being fought a few hundred kilometres south west... mouth of a river... water... an otherworldy creature. Korangar.
Normally, this would not garner my interest, but this--this is something entirely different. The gravity of the depiction...
"Korangar, Korangar..." I muttered.
This involves the Feyrks and anyone else that shares a relationship with the sea.
Can it be true? I must discuss this with the Elders.
We find ourselves at the end of our amusements.
04-Mar-2017 08:21:37
- Last edited on
04-Mar-2017 08:25:45
by
Jor Ulfrsson