A cold wind moaned its deep throated call as it caressed the snow-dusted deserted streets of frozen Dale. Occasionally, a few stray snowflakes drifted down to join their predecessors which littered the floor already, although the deserted night-stricken streets were void of anyone to witness their lonely passing. Well…almost void! A single man strode through the darkness, his black cloak billowing like a cumulonimbus cloud behind him, swirling in the strong wind. A soft crunching sound accompanied the mysterious figure as his thick leather boots trampled the thin veil of snow beneath them, crushing its lily-white complexion into a marred, muddy brown – a strong indicator that the man did not start his walking in the town.
Indeed, the man seemed to be quite the picture of rugged anonymity. Dressed in muddy, brown leather clothing that was clearly well worn, with a few carefully sown patches on it and with his black hood pulled over his head; he looked like quite the ruffian. The man beneath the hood was quite the picture of roguish bravado. Soft, flame red hair curled over his head in scruffy tresses, some just about reaching his ears. A scruffy layer of ginger stubble framed his chin with an unshaven look, suggesting that he had spent some fair time out of town and had not seen a Barbour in many a day. A long, thick red scar traced itself over his left cheek, almost touching his mouth; although not quite, tapering off before it reached his worn, dry lips. His nose had a somewhat crooked aspect to it as though at some point it has been broken and healed badly, giving him an ugly and warped countenance. Deep set, and flint-like in their strange icy blue tint, his eyes give him a fearsome and awesome appearance, an aura of grim fear pervading from their depths.
Those eyes glinted with the reflection of the gleaming snow that he warily stepped over, seeking his destination with methodical precision. Out of the gate of Dale and off towards a small farming hamlet where a cluster of thatched houses nestled, dwarfed by their town neighbour. As he walked, the snowfall thickened into a whirling myriad around him, some settling on his shoulders so that he shivered beneath the cloak and quickened his pace, cold despite his solid northern routes.
Slowly, he approached a door of one of the houses, knocking loudly despite the late time at night, the loud rapety tap of his knuckles almost lost on the wind. No light came from the windows or through the small cracks between the planks of wood of the small door. Yet muffled sounds could be heard within, the residents responding to the sharp knock on the door. A moment later, a light appeared at the window, golden beams lighting up the bright snow outside so that the world gleamed exquisitely. Then the door opened with a loud long creek, flooding bright light out into the dark, snow-kissed world and causing the man to blink rapidly, dazzling him with its radiance. A small figure, seemingly a dark, scrawny shadow against the brilliant light around her stood framed by the doorway, sparkling blue eyes peering up at him before frowning slightly, curious if not anxious. He gave her a reassuring smile from beneath his hood, his gruff tones trying to be gentle as he spoke to her, “Hello there Sefa…don’t be alarmed! I’m your Uncle Horfryth.”
The girl blinked a few times, a slightly startled expression lighting her features. She turned, her nimble feet bouncing back into the house where raised voices were heard. Thudding footsteps got louder until a bald, rather large man with a ginger moustache appeared at the doorway. Narrowing his vivid blue eyes, he reached a large hand out towards Horfryth and dragged him inside roughly so that he stumbled upon the rush mat floor. To the side of the corridor stood the girl, Sefa, who eyed him with a somewhat confused expression. Following like a wraith as her Uncle was dragged off into a room, the door slamming shut loudly to keep the girl out. Still, she pressed her ear to the door, listening to the sound of one raised voice and the muttered, frustrated tones of the other as they talked long into the night. Though she was weary, she stayed where she was, too curious about the stranger and the few words he said to her so that she eavesdropped long into the night.
Eventually, after some time had passed and the discussion became more reasonable, the door slammed open, startling the girl as it flung her against the wall to the side. An angry bold head appeared, scowling to see that she had evidently been listening in to their conversation. Grabbing her by the arm, he roughly shoved her in the direction of her uncle, saying, “She’s yours for the fortnight. Don’t get her killed.” Horfryth shot him a glare before gently putting his arm around the somewhat bewildered and frightened girl and ushered her outside, braving the cold of those grey pre-dawn hours and leading her off into the snow tinged world.
