After we camped a few fours away from the skirmish, and got rest, we continued on until we reached Forlaw. It was the city of Wildermoore, where even in the wilds, there is always hope and civilization, or so father said. It was decided that we would count our supplies here, have some drinks, and tell our tales to all that would listen. For today, father deemed be to be able to have a small, small pint of ale. I was almost getting to the point of manhood, at least, I think I am. I'm mature, strong, and did just kill my first orc today.

- "The web of lies became impassable, the web of misguidance became distracting. There is only way I can discover the truth of the happenings that started evolving long before Stangard fell. It is clear what I have to do. " - Cynebur said to her sisters as packing her bags. The newborn was in sisters arms sleeping and the joy filled the family that was so deep rooted in life of Wildermore.

- "I know you have your path, but return safely, our dearest sister." - other one said and her husband came inside also.

- "Heva!" - A man called her by her name, catching her in last momen as her soft boots carried her off the iced path. Firm in his hands she smiled uncomfortably, well bundled in heavy furs and rough knee long tunic. Healers pink nose lost challenge against her cheeks and turned very red. 

His eyes watched her amused, man of renown, in fine armor, with golden braids falling over his shoulders. Instead of helm he had a soft cap, now sprinkled with snow. 

Regnwald lifted up his chin, scarred and bearded features of the young Eorling betraying his age, and with the fatigue of recent days, his voice laced ''You didn't get the approval of Witan, eh.'' defiant, hazel green eyes gleamed with the gravity of a point already known. The man lowered his head, gazing down at his boot clad in fur and leather.

Wychtleth walked into the jail. She soon pulled her hood down, looking around, "Decent looking for a jail..."

“The deeds of men, as footprints in the snow.
Nothing under the blue sky is fated to last.

FORLAW / Outside the Reeve's Hall / DUSK
 

The winter air bit deep in the cliff-side burgh, but stout walls and warm hearths did something to keep the west's harsh winds at bay. Folk busied themselves with everyday labour, logs were split, cattle driven and linen washed even in times of strife. The leader of the war-band sat, gazing at his armoured feet that swayed slightly from the edge of the stone fence.

'Gydgar, where are the rest?' soon he demanded.

Frost upon Shieldmaiden

For she stood too long, the daughter of Burgar the Old,

Day to day, she stood too long, the shield-woman

Four days, five nights, she stood before doors of the Witan

At fifth dawn the gates opened and elder men come

"I kneel for blood and cries people wept,

I give to ye mine shield and spear,

​Hondscioh nodded at Egilfrid and looked between Erlene and the Eorling horse-tamer ''Yer woman knows where to find ya.'' and advanced a few strides to shake hands with him, though his eyes soundlessly wandering around the ring to find his horse.