With the sun gone below a ridge of barren hills, the darkness was quickly retaking the ground. Up on the faint horizon, at the end of the troop rode a mid-aged warrior, grimly determined, his face obscured by his plumed helmet.
Leaving the wooden gates of Harwick behind, the Rider came up to the Mead hall -- a magnificent wood and stone structure. And the high-arched doors flew open as the Rider stepped inside the great hall that glowed with torches, both inside and out.
