The Eorlingas

It was a rather nice day at Stangard, or at least it would have been... had a body not been found at the edge of the market place. Master healer, Leofbryt had been called in and Régnwald was at training with the warriors. Which was why morning would find Ruscbald and Vanora crouched next to master healer as he carefully examined the body on the ground.

It was a heavy summer day, with clouds over the Eorlsmead brewing without any drop of rain. There was little people on streets of the village, only guards on towers and few patrols. Only rush happening was around the Foldewyn's halls, a Healers halls. Few healers were entering exiting the hall with buckets of water or armfuls of clothes, woods for fires or bags of herbs.

The silvery drops of morning dew slowly settled upon the green leaves of summer as the sun began its journey across the heavens.  The coming dawn had painted the sky into a crimson splendour, and a gust of chilly wind blowing to eorling warrior's face.

Régnwald strode along a sheep trail, then crossed over a ridge to find a smoldering ruin of a hut, a few sheep about. Five rough-looking men were eating at a fire-pit. He edged forward, eyeing the smoke, and they eyed him warily.

''Wyrm came in the night.'' spoke the first man.

A tall man clad in fur and leather walked down the road with quick steps, his head tilted downward and an umber hood was shadowing his face as if not willing to be seen. He leaned forward, a torch lightening his way until he arrived the stables, glancing about in search of someone.