"Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them." George Eliot
----Rimedur and Autumn rode hard and fast over the hills of Rohan and, without trouble, crossed the river Isen. Luckily, they were able to skip the Lone-Lands and pass along the Greenway.
----Doubled over from exaustion, Rimedur and Autumn set up camp about fifteen miles away from the town of Bree. His sister tried to take a drink of water, but her canteen was empty, as was Rimedur's. "I'll go fill our canteens with water from the stream over there. Stay here," he told his sister.
----As he was kneeled at the bank, filling up the two water vessels, he heard the stinging scream that still haunts him to the present day. It was his sister's. There was no denying that. He unsheathed his sword and set off at a sprint back to the camp. Back to his sister.
----When he got there, the fire had been put out and almost everything of value was gone, including his sister. "Autumn!" Rimedur shouted. He searched the whole area until he found her, slumped against a tree with a dirty, rusted knife in her gut. He dropped his sword in the green grass and ran to her side.
----Rimedur held his barely living sister in his arms, feeling her very will and life slowly ebb away. He didn't realize it, but he was crying. Sobbing, even. Finally, she was dead. His last family was gone. He was truly alone. Rimedur looked around in furious rage, shouting at the one who killed his sister, whether they were listening or not.
