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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Deskjob" data-source="post: 5196882" data-attributes="member: 84205">Marko, Defense of a CastleEarlier...Marko rode out from the village and back to the Manor.  He had successfully convinced his cousins of their voyage and they had blessed him with their horse for the time being.  The preparations for departure were complete.  The preparations for combat were only beginning.He horse moved slowly through the evening trees until the sights of torchlight and camp activity where soon to be seen.  The inner walls of Harkon had become a camp of workmen.  Outfitters, craftsmen, and volunteers all working toward prepping the fortress for combat.  Equipment was laid out, repaired and polished.  Wood was being molded and cut for use in battle and defense.  Food and feed was being stored and locked away too.  It was a ragtag effort to be sure but no fear showed among the brave men and women.  They worked out of loyalty and pride.  Pride in their land, their homes, and their lord.The dark-haired shoemaker, dressed for a finer occasion, dismounted his horse and stabled it himself.  He walked the camp for a moment.  His soldier's pleasure filled him.  The momentary preparations that where commencing, the activity; the life that remained.  The stubborn resolve of these hard and worn people.  Tomorrow would be a day to define the very existence of these hard folk.  A day that would define himself as well...  No more did thoughts of death and perishing cloud his mind.  Marko would think only of victory.  Duty would prevail upon the righteous and this land would be free still.  He laid his hand upon the shoulder of the smith and gave a reassuring nod.  Duty would prevail upon them all...Marko smirked at the first stars of the evening and slipped away to the Dining Hall while there was still a meal to be had.</blockquote>

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