Burned Dreams

It was a nice cool silent evening. The starry decoration of the night sky was veiled by the thick smoke coming behind the hill yonder. The grass on the slope was swaying gently to the rythm of the breeze.

The sound of hasty hoofs clatter of armor broke the silence, as four riders sped through the grassy path. One of the riders -a man named Emreg- carried a banner featuring a white horse against its green fabric, followed by three others: A hooded man who wore light armour, named Ardron, a shield maiden of Rohan called Kennia with golden hair flowing as she rode and clad in brigadine and finally a heavily armoured man bringing in the rear, named Eorran.

The others had already reached their destination when Eorran arrived. Pulling the reigns hard the horse came to an abrupt halt, sliding a few meters before coming to a stop. A cloud of dust arose momentarily hinting the rider's vision, but not for long. His eyes widened as he realized that beyond the cloud of dust was a cloud of smoke and ash. Before them stood the once proud wooden fortifications of Langhold, one of the many cities of Rohan, now laying burned and hewn.

The four riders, led by Emreg, approached the gates cautiously, weapons at the ready. Whoever did this damage could still linger among the ruins. The gates themselves looked as if two big arms tore them appart, rather than broken in. What sort of power could do a thing like that?

 As they passed through the entrance into the town they faced the grim sight of a ransacked city. Houses burned to dust, while others still burning. Unidentified bodies lay hewn here and there, while a half burned banner lay trampled in the mud.

The Rohirrim agreed to look around the city for survivors and so they split. Ardron began investigating the houses around the entrance, Kennia went further north to begin her search and Emreg and Eorran headed further deep amidst the ghost town to investigate the Mead Hall. If there were any survivors they might have barricaded  themselves there.

Nothing could be heard, no sound of man or beast, as if even the sounds themselves avoided this place. The silence was broken by the sound of weapon clashing against each other. Eorran turned around immediatelly even as he stood on the steps of the Mead Hall. His eyes met with Emreg's and both men raced through the streets to whence the sounds came.

As they turned around the corner, they saw Kennia who stood there and turned around to face them with arrow drawn.

"Did you hear that?" she asked and both men nodded.

"Where is Ardron?" Eorran spoke.

Not sooner than that, the door of one of the still-standing houses opened and out came a hooded man. Ardron sheathed his weapon and stood before the open door.

"I found them looting the house" he thumbed backwards at the opened door.

There lay two bodies of men, slayed.

"We should leave this forsaken place and head southwards, to Harwick. Whoever did this will most likely head there" said Emreg and mounted his horse.

The other three followed suit and only Eorran cautioned of themselved being branded Outlaws by order of the King. The four riders arrowed out from the gates of the burned city, following the road south to Harwick.

Men, woman and horses stayed on the road this time, for fear that if they ventured they might be ambushed. All the while the same thoughts circled in their mind:

Was this the doing of Easterlings? Why did the gate look as if it was torn, rather than broken? What will they face once they arrive at Harwick?

One of their questions was soon answered, for after some time they reached a hill overlooking the plains beyond and on those plains, not far beyond, stood the barricated city of Harwick with the banner of Rohan still flying.

Without wasting time the four riders headed for the gates. The guards there regarded them for a moment but allowed them to pass none the less. There, beyond the wooden pallicades, the riders felt for the first time after so long as if they finally reached home. It was night, but the sight was beautiful. The city streets were lit with torches carved in the shape of horses. Fences made of stone guarded each side of the roads. The cobbled stone streets were filled with life, people walking, guards patrolling, children playing. None of the four riders could help but smile.

"Lets go further inside" Emreg suggested and the others agreed.

As they proceeded, they took the path that was between a lake and a hill. The lake attracted the riders' attention and paused for a few moments there, eyeing the beauty. The lake was in the middle of the town and filled with swans.

"Swans" Kennia grinned.

"Beautiful indeed" Eorran smiled.

Ardron and Emreg rode off to see the rest of the town, while Kennia and Eorran stood there admiring the view. At some poing the young women pointed at a couple on the other side of the lake fishing.

"Look!" she said surprised

"I dont like synchronized fishing" Eorran chuckled.

It was  then that Eorran's horse headed towards the shallows of the lake splashing about and began drinking some water. Kennia laughed out loud and Eorran too, though he felt a bit less dry.

"Let us find the others" the young Rohirrim said as he looked around

Kennia agreed and thus both continued down the cobbled path, reaching a stable where Emreg stood there caring for his horse.

After the three of the four riders finished the tendering of their horses they came together to speak.

"Noticed anything peculiar?" Emreg asked

"Why isnt this town razed to the ground?" said Eorran with obvious confusion in his eyes.

"Exactly!" Kennia remarked.

Emreg nodded in agreement. It was strange indeed. One would think that a host that had flatted a town, not far from where they stood, would continue on to the next one.

"If they are not here, where are they?" Emreg asked.