Freedall Joseph R Long Freedall galloped through the open country. There was nothing, except mountains way off in the distance, but rolling emerald green fields as far as the eye could see. He spurred his horse towards the capital, Haven. As he crossed a low hill Freedall saw a column of smoke in the distance. Some out of the way inn he thought Maybe I’ll stop in and have a drink. Spice beer would really hit the spot. He wheeled his horse towards the smoke. He topped a hill that was slightly higher than the other ones around him. What he saw gave him chills. It had been a village, now it lay in utter ruin. Buildings were toppled and splayed out on the streets. Bodies lay in every direction, most mutilated so you could only just tell it was human. One body was being drug around by a horse. The hand of the person was caught in the saddle, and the head looked like it had been battered as the horse ran. Freedall dismounted and pulled the stuck hand out of the saddle. Freedall walked through the village leading his horse. He would call out from time to time, hoping to find a living soul. Just as Freedall was hopping into his saddle, he heard a voice. “WAIT!” From the shadows of a half burned building came something that was a shock to Freedall. Here amongst all this death and carnage of humans, came a little orc child no older than five. “What happened here?” Freedall asked the child. “Men in shiny armor came to the village. They killed…” he paused as if steeling himself “They killed Papa and Jake and Sarlena.” Unable to hold it back anymore, the orc child began to cry. Freedall dropped his reins and ran to the child, embracing it as if it was his own. “It’s okay. Every things fine now. You can come and live with me. I know I’m not your Papa, but I’ll take care of you. Some other children are staying with me also, would you like to go and meet them?” The orcling nodded its head yes. “Alright, come on.” Freedall carried the orc child to his horse and settled it into the saddle. He then climbed up behind it and set his horse at a trot towards Haven, leaving the death and destruction of the village behind. But it would always burn in the mind of that orc child.
Joseph R Long Freedall galloped through the open country. There was nothing but rolling emerald green fields leading into the mountains as far as the eye could see. He spurred his horse towards the capital, Haven. As he crossed the plain Freedall saw a column of smoke in the distance. Some out of the way inn he thought maybe I’ll stop in and have a drink. Spice beer would really hit the spot. He wheeled his horse towards the smoke. As he neared the smoke, a quiet blanketed the land. What he saw gave him chills. It had been a village, now it lay in utter ruin. Buildings were toppled and splayed out on the streets. Bodies lay in every direction, most mutilated to the point that they didn’t look human anymore. Freedall caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A horse was trotting around the village dragging a body behind it. The hand of the person was caught in the saddle, and the head looked like it had been battered as the horse ran. Freedall dismounted and pulled the stuck hand out of the saddle. Freedall walked through the village leading his horse. He would call out from time to time, hoping to find a living soul. The quiet unnerved Freedall, making him sick to his stomach. Unable to stand the quietness of death anymore, Freedall hopped into his saddle and prepared for his journey home. Just as he spurred his horse he heard a voice. “WAIT!” From the shadows of a half burned building came something that was a shock to Freedall. Here amongst all this death and carnage of humans, came a little orc child no older than five. He looked starved and battered. Teeth gleamed through a cut along his cheek. “What happened here?” Freedall asked the child. “Men in shiny armor came to the village. They killed…” he paused as if steeling himself “They killed Papa and Jake and Sarlena.” Unable to hold it back anymore, the orc child began to cry. Freedall dropped his reins and ran to the child, embracing it as if it was his own. “It’s okay. Every things fine now. You can come and live with me. I know I’m not your Papa, but I’ll take care of you. Some other children are staying with me also, would you like to go and meet them?” The orcling nodded its head yes. “Alright, come on.” Freedall carried the orc child to his horse and settled it into the saddle. He then climbed up behind it and set his horse at a trot towards his home in Haven, leaving the death and destruction of the village behind. But it would always burn in the mind of that orc child. Bak came awake with a cry. “Papa!” He looked around the room. It was strange to him. Chairs were in the wrong places, and the room was much to large to be the one he shared with his brother. The door by the foot of the bed opened. In walked an old man with shaggy gray hair and a beard down to his chest. He wore long flowing maroon robes with gold stitching. “Ah, you’re awake now.” The man carried a bowl over to the bedside table. “You gave me quite a scare you know, passing out like that. I almost dropped you.” The man began dabbing his face with a wet wash cloth, avoiding stitches on the side of Bak’s face. “So what’s your name?” “Bak.” “Well, Bak, I’m Freedall.” After a pause Freedall asked, “What’s the last thing you remember?” Tears welled up in Bak’s eyes. “I remember seeing Papa face down on the ground. When I rolled him over, he looked like he was sleeping. There was red stuff pooled all around him. I didn’t want to touch the red stuff, but I had to, to try and wake him up. It was sticky and had a sweet sickening smell to it. I tried to shake him awake, but he wouldn’t wake up.” Tears flowed freely down Bak’s cheeks now, “I went to find my brother and sister, but I couldn’t find Jake and Sarlena had cuts all over her body.” Bak’s eyes gained a glassy look. “I’m sorry I have to ask you these questions Bak,” Freedall said remorsefully, “And I know it hurts to think about it. But I have a friend that may be able to help us find the murderers of your village. Is there anything you can tell me about the men in armor? Anything that might make them easier to recognize?” “All I can think of is the shininess of the armor.” Replied Bak. “Okay.” Freedall said warmly, “You try to get some more sleep. I’ll have Talon and Sheena come check on you later. Okay?” Bak lay awake staring at the ceiling. It was hard to sleep with images of his village going through his head. After a bit, his thoughts drifted to other topics and Bak fell into a dreamless sleep.
