[piosenniel]

The Sixth Wizard's post

"Ah, an Inn ahead," said Garnae as he rode deftly upon the horse, Creon. He had finally finished his training as a Rider, perhaps now he could earn enough money for his family. Anyway, this was a time for celebration. Although he had passed the training through unorthodox methods, defeating opponents with wit and smarts instead of brute force, it was over and he could relax for the first time in a long while. The constant urging of Sandrina Hitherford's greedy Uncle Sam had reminded him that his farm was going broke, and that there were no other buyers. There was really nothing for it; sell the land to him (much of which had already been sold), or join the Riders.

Garnae was sure Sandrina's uncle was assisting in the mysterious demise of his farmland. Cattle went missing, the stream was dirty and crops grew poorly. One day as he ploughed the fields he found a handful of salt, perhaps dropped by a treacherous hand as it fallowed the earth. As much as he tried though, Garnae couldn't ever find Sam or an accomplice at this game, so he could never get him put to justice. It was a hard life on his farm.

But all that might change now that he was a Rider of the Riddermark. Crops could be resown. Watches could be placed on his land, and the nasty character caught. Hopefully life would be good.

Garnae brushed his hand through his blonde hair sighing. The White Horse Inn . Time to put his spirit at ease with a good dose of ale. Garnae didn't drink much, not having many friends. As he entered the wooden door, tying up Creon at the door who whistled annoyedly, he spied a young woman at a table alone. As if driven by fate, he sat next to her...