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Enchanted Trinkets Complete--a hardcover book containing over 500 magic items for your D&D games!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="mroberon1972" data-source="post: 1025108" data-attributes="member: 5148">PRELUDEPRELUDE   The ground was hard, far too hard for digging.  She dug on regardless.  Her fine hands worked the earth with the longblade dagger that had been given to her on a spring much like this one.  She was used to hard work.  Her hands, fine and white, were still as callused and strong as any hunter's.     Surrounded by the pines that ruled the valley, she worked in silence.    Even though she was not trying to hide, it was hard to spot her against the ground she was working on.  Her dark, nearly raven black hair kept falling loose from the folds of her hood.  She ignored it as she ignored all hardships.  It stood out in stark contrast to the pale skin it laid against.  She was not pretty, not even Farn had called her that.  But she was still somehow... Alluring...  Yes, that was the word he had used.  Especially when combines with her almost-too-large eyes and sculpted mouth.     She focused back onto the work at hand.  Even in early spring, it was nearly impossible to turn the frozen ground.  It took hours, and even then she was only able to cut a furrow about a foot deep.  Finally, she gathered stones lying about.  By the time the sun had fallen to late afternoon, the grave had been completed.  She stared at the pile of stones stacked over him, her vision blurring for a moment.  She blinked her eyes rapidly to clear them.  There were still survivors to get away to safety.   That, and orcs to kill.    Tara lifted her aching form from the ground as she gathered her weapons and pack.  Looking back at the grave of her husband, she tried to remember.  It had only been a year since their quiet wedding...  And now she was a widow.  She knew better than to say it wasn't fair.  Nothing was fair in the valley.  But...     She looked back on their life together.  She tried to find fault for what had happened.  Could they have earned this end somehow?  Her mind rebelled against the idea.   Farn had always been the thinking one.  All she had ever been was cunning.  He had always told her they were the same thing, but she didn't think so.     Finally, the frustration was too much.  She screamed the question at the valley, her weapons drawn in challenge.  She screamed it until her beautiful voice was raw and grating, and the scream became the snarling growl of a predator.  The valley did not answer, it never did.  The question remained, though, echoing throughout the icy air:  "Where did we go wrong?"</blockquote>

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