[Nogrod]

Bregoware

The gentle melody of Meghan’s reed pipe was taken up by the light breeze that alone wandered the forsaken alleys of the village. It carried it towards the hill, and with a gentle breath of wind it climbed up, to Sythric’s sleeping mind. Sythric was just passing from a light sleep to deep dreams, as the age old melody passed all his semi-conscious levels of awareness, without leaving a trace. It entered the unconscious levels of his being, bubbling like a small spring stream. It was both cool and smoothing, defying all the harsh remembrances and dark visions that had started to gather in his dreams. The melody carried him to his childhood, to love and security. To peace. He slep better than in months. He was at the arms of his mother, in the arms of a world that had no evil in it.

Sythric woke up before the others. The sun was not up yet, but it would be soon. He was full of energy and positive mind. There was no sign of yesterdays tired and gloomy Sythric. He tended Thydrë, checking carefully, that everything was all right with her. Then he took two apples and his pipe from his pack, and headed for the top of the hill in the dim light of the daybreak. As he had thought, the guard was sitting there. And to his pleasure, it was Raedwald.

Sythric sat beside his old friend, took a good bite of his apple, offering the other one to Raedwald. Then they were just silent for a moment. The sight of Scyffold surely was depressing. After his good morning, it took his spirits a bit lower. Well, he knew, he would have to face that sight before he decided to take his morningpipe up there. Sometimes it just was better to face the evil head on than trying to forget it. And the sun would be there, any minute now.

He tried to reconstruct the village out from memory, comparing it to this sight ahead of him. He thought, he spotted the town hall’s remnants, and then there was this large structure, only halfburned. He turned to Raedwald: “Do you think that big one there, quite at the center, could be Tryggr the Merchant’s villa? He sure was one of the wealthiest men around these parts of the world. But as rain falls over everyone, the good and the bad, the rich and the poor alike, so does war and it’s destruction. There is no escape from it, but resistance. And against orcs you can’t resist with gold, as you can with men. At the times of distress we are all naked, armed only by our fragile bodies to shelter one another.” He puffed yet a couple of rings from his pipe, and then offered the pipe to Raedwald. “You care for some this early?” he asked, and simultaneously heard some noises from down below. Someone seemed to have been waking up.