• Stones of Morrow

    The crackle of the close, warm fire was the only familiar sound to the two adventurers at this point, but the list would soon grow. The guards, who would attempt to intercept their path, were currently unaware of their stealthy escape. Brom, being the more experienced hunter, hunted for supplies in the dark, untraveled forest.

    Brom's partner, Ulric, was the only one to slightly enjoy the darkness. He placed his arm directly in the fire, and stared at Brom in fascination. "Brom!" Ulric called in excitement. "I feel no heat!"

    "Stay silent, Ulric." Brom quickly added. "The forest has ears."

    "Right." said Ulric in agreement. Ulric sat in silence, as Brom constantly looked to the dark forest. Then, unknown footsteps became noticed.

    Both men quickly adjusted their eyes to the direction of the footsteps. "Tell me, Ulric." Brom said as he was readying his fists. "How many of them are closing in on our location?"

    "Two to three in total." Ulric estimated. "We have thirty seconds."

    "Light footsteps and flawed movement.. Bandits?" Brom said standing up. He seemed like a giant standing next to Ulric, as he was four feet taller, and had the physique of a knight.

    "Seems so." Ulric confirmed, sharpening his dull, blood-stained blade. Ulric, even though only a few years younger than Brom, looked like a mere student in his presence. A scar extending from his left cheek to his forehead, quickly became the physical feature the guards would search for.

    Ulric stared at his blade. "The one on the right has a larger body mass than the other two combined."

    "I think I can manage." Brom said with a smirk. "But can you?"

    "You would make a fine jester, my brother." Ulric said smiling. "Now, all we do is wait."

    The two of them were both from the same village. Both of them were very skilled combatants, and were requested to join the king's army every season. They joined the army eventually, served two years as guards, and proved their superiority among the guards. Over the years, they grew tired of the guard, and decided to become simple messengers of the village. One day, they received a request from a mysterious man. They simply had to deliver a package. They delivered the package, and accepted the seemingly "generous" reward. However, the package turned out to be a robe soaked in poison, and the recipient being the king's son. Ever since, they have been on the run, hoping to pursue the man who made them outlaws, and end his life.

    "Open your eyes, brother, they're here." said Brom, holding his tiny dagger.

    The three men emerged from the bushes, and charged Brom and Ulric. They all wreaked of the same foul odor, and had dirt smudges all over their bodies. They wore torn clothing, and carried rusty, outdated, bronze swords.

    The silence quickly transitioned to the sound of blades colliding. In only ten seconds, three bodies dropped to the cold dirt, and two remained standing in triumph. The victors eyes soon met as they both smiled almost in sync. Ulric lifted an eyebrow and released it, as if to say they had done a well job.

    "Now, that was almost insulting." said Ulric jokingly. "I guess we're clear for the rest of the night."

    "We have a lot of ground to cover in the morning." said Brom, putting his bloody dagger into it's sheath. "Dispose of the bodies. We don't want the guards finding any evidence of this, now do we?"

    "Just wait until we are in a true battle, my brother," said Ulric laughing. "That is when I will be the one sitting in pleasure."


    Ulric's smile soon faded. "Brom.." Ulric said. Brom walked to Ulric's side, knelt next to him, and examined the body Ulric was pointing at.

    "Isn't this.." Brom said in shock. "This is the same symbol."

    Ulric looked Brom in the eyes, his fist quenching the medal bearing a foreign text. "This exact symbol was on the package we delivered."