Sol'aufain
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The point of Fain’s blade burst through the back of his enemy. The dwarf wheezed and sagged, Fain pulled his rapier free, the sound of trickling blood could just be made out behind him as he lunged at the next foe. The sound of fighting reverberated off the walls, clashes of metal, groans of pain, cries of victory. A song to hold dear, an art to maintain. A respite from the ignominy of being assigned to a scouting party being sent to secure the route from Zar'Ahal to Maekerrith.
The Matron of House Ulthrel, his mother, had seen fit to relinquish him and him alone to the new queen. The betrayal had blindsided Fain. He’d clawed his way up the hierarchy of his own house finally becoming The Weaponmaster, and now…. Now, he was a grunt in The Queen’s Scouts. Fain’s jaw was clenched tight, the fighting was over as quickly as it had started, and his crimson eyes burned while the air around him was ice cold.
Fain looked down on the battle from his perch. He took in the full breath of the skirmish from an elevated vantage point which let him read the notes of this interlude as simply as if it were on a sheet. A frown settled across his lips as he picked up on something he’d missed in the heat of battle. He slipped from the stone outcropping, a shadow in the dark, and landed next to one of the dead dwarves. He sniffed the air…then promptly returned to the group. His hands moved quickly and concisely.
<<This wasn’t a normal scout party, these dwarves were sent here. Eyes up, there is magic near.>>
The Matron of House Ulthrel, his mother, had seen fit to relinquish him and him alone to the new queen. The betrayal had blindsided Fain. He’d clawed his way up the hierarchy of his own house finally becoming The Weaponmaster, and now…. Now, he was a grunt in The Queen’s Scouts. Fain’s jaw was clenched tight, the fighting was over as quickly as it had started, and his crimson eyes burned while the air around him was ice cold.
Fain looked down on the battle from his perch. He took in the full breath of the skirmish from an elevated vantage point which let him read the notes of this interlude as simply as if it were on a sheet. A frown settled across his lips as he picked up on something he’d missed in the heat of battle. He slipped from the stone outcropping, a shadow in the dark, and landed next to one of the dead dwarves. He sniffed the air…then promptly returned to the group. His hands moved quickly and concisely.
<<This wasn’t a normal scout party, these dwarves were sent here. Eyes up, there is magic near.>>
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