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Message: <blockquote data-quote="GlassEye" data-source="post: 4669568" data-attributes="member: 40413">[sblock=At the house]Once a little more comfortable, Edvan sits and his mind drifts while Rovan and Hilmdyn discuss what they'll need for the antidote.  It doesn't really mean much to Edvan so he pulls out his writing desk to practice his letters with much squinting and scratching and staring into space.Rove's helpin' me with my letters.  He says I should practice 'em by writing.  I says, "Write wot?" and he says, "Write what you know."  I says, "Wot, weapons? Taverns?  Soldierin'?"  And he just looks at me with one brow quirked up like he does sometimes.  So I puts the quill down and thinks a bit and ends up starin' at the hand-axe in my belt wot puts me in mind of my brother… Rikard was choppin' wood out by the tree line.  A regular 'thok' echoed over the field where I was workin' with my Da. Spring-time there be plenty to do, ya see?  So I don't really notices when it ends.  The 'thok', that is.  But Father, he looks up, squints his eyes, and peers around.  "Somethin' be wrong," he says.  "Get back to the house, lad, and see to yer mother and sisters."The sudden knock sets Edvan's heart to racing and he quickly shoves the parchment and quill into the desk smearing ink as he does so and puts the desk to one side.  Rovan makes it to the door before Edvan can get up but Edvan reaches over and grabs his axe.  "Who is it, Rove?" he hisses.[/sblock]</blockquote>

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