Glaumring tore into the flesh of the beast laying in front of him with his teeth, slicing tendons with his dagger, tearing the charred meat from the leg, steam and smoke rose from the haunch , fresh roasted monster meat. Randemicos had been hunting and returned with food. the first food seen in days, or was it weeks? Glaumring could no longer remember...
On his lap lay a pile of musty letters, each letter was gold sealed and with red Corsanctum emblem stamped upon their face, an entire pile of letters. Scrawled upon was the bloodstars, dusted with gold, ruby dust... Forgotten things from far away lands...
Glaumring turned to Randemicos, he smiled a weary smile and said.
" They in far civilization have made an accusation against myself, that 'I' am a heretic...I a soldier of the faith out here on the fringes of their empire where none have trod before, a heretic!"
Glaumring suppressed his laugh, it merely sputtered out and wheezed, he tossed the letter into a pile.
"Can they not see I have greater problems than to worry about whether men who sit in silk and attack books with pen are concerned about what warriors do? If they truly cared they would send one of their priests out here , to muddy his feet and come out here and see , to see what we have done in the name of the bloodstars!"
They were huddled in a dank room, and beyond the walls slices of sunlight came through cracks in the brickwork. Glaumring was filthy, his hair was a scraggled mess, blood and mud caked his face, his beard was bushy and out of control. Aye , but this is the price one paid for long journies into the northern mountain lands and forgotten forests of northern Dwilight.
Glaumring rose and crawled through a broken hole in the brick wall and entered a court yard that was disgustingly packed with soldiers, it was a rank steaming pile of dung and sweat, packed into a small place behind a wall were over a hundred men, wounded, dying, sleeping and waiting guards milled about in the early morning light.
Glaumring surveyed his men and wandered amongst them, they were in rough shape and for so long had been out and survived so much, he comforted the dying, he drank with his captain and sat and watched the horizon with his sentries.
There far out on plane, with sun drifting through the clouds, breaking with gold rays that lightly touched the green rolling grass , hills languished and made their way around where on each side the aqua blue northern ocean encompassed all for miles on each side in its loving embrace. And Glaumring was still and he did not move, and like a dust covered statue he watched as ocean going birds did dip across his vision, calling out and skipping around the towers of the keep they all now found as their home. Out side was thorns and miles of mud, hidden in there was the glowing stank animals of the underworld. But for now they were all safe... Safe from the monsters that bayed hungry for blood in the outside world.
Glaumring held his head and muttered to himself, his head has been so busy lately, there was so much to do and everything now weighted down on him at one time. The stars were testing him...
Night came and Glaumring called his men to the walls, when gathered he took from his cloak the clay disc made for him long ago in Port Raviel, and when all was silent, his men with faces upturned, no fire lit, no light for ages, the sky was an ocean of stars.Glaumring looked at each of their faces , all his loyal soldiers, all gathered here in far away for he nightly tales of the sky.
He placed the disc in his hand and made measurements with it, and spoke while he was doing it, drinking from a wine skin and answering questions his curious men did give, first his finger pointed to a symbol on the clay disc and then upwards to the moon, the bulbous orb did float where the symbol had said it was.
His finger traced a line .. There the star of the milk maiden... There the star of the fisherman... There the planet of fire...
The disc told of time, it gave dates and it told stories, and for each mark Glaumring could go back and tell the tale of a battle of a journey , of a life and of a death. And all sat and listened in the stillness, pipes of tobacco wafted smoke around and the wine skins passed around.
Glaumring traced a line on the clay disc, and he turned to his men, they could see his eyes and his face through the beard, his finger pointed to a place on the disc and Glaumring turned and pointed to the skies, far to the west... His men bowed their heads, they did not speak and for a moment they stopped drinking wine and murmuring... Glaumring stood there with his fingers pointing at the three stars far away in the west...
"They stood for ages...
They turned to dust...
There was no moon...
There was no sound of ocean on the shore..."
Glaumring said to no one...
