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The sky was a cloudless grey as we rode through the outer gates of Numenstaya. The heavy metal frames were unlocked, as usual, neither were there any guards. What need did folk in our lands have for guards on their gates unless in times or war?
But we learned that day. And others had paid for our lack of foresight.
Parnard lays aside an armful of materiel in the next room, as he takes a seat with Danel to talk about how matters are developing. He intends to make more clothes for Marawendi; she has been nigh consumed with anger over the death of Aearlinn, but is seeing things in a better perspective since speaking with Estarfin.
Estarfin is determined to fortify Numenstaya against attack. He speaks with the others of his plans. To start with he wants a deep ditch dug out, and Danel and Ceuro both take up spades. Parnard encourages verbally.
Numenstaya, their own small village by the Western Sea. It should have been a refuge, a haven from the troubles of the world. Yet it had been attacked, defiled, and their friend lay now under the dark earth. Vengeance, perhaps even war, lay ahead of them, despite their hopes for peace and joy. Estarfin had long accepted the Doom that had been placed upon his kin, but ever they entwined others into it; Parnard, Marawendi. Aearlinn.
To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well.