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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4117331" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 2HOPEThe village of Hope still looked new, and by the standards of most towns it was, the first buildings having been built there only twelve years past.  The place was off the beaten path, a good hour off the main road that connected Highbluff with the scattered settlements to the south, but it was otherwise well situated.  A stream wound around the western edge of the town, and there were several forests nearby for food and fuel.  The village itself sat upon a small rise, adjoining a low ridge of exposed limestone that acted as sort of a shield wall to the north.  A lookout tower sat atop that ridge, along with the foundations of what might someday become a small keep.  Despite its isolation, the village itself had grown steadily in the decade since its founding, until now almost three hundred people called it their home.  The wall that extended in a half-circle out from the trailing edges of the ridge had been extended outward twice, and already a number of structures had been constructed outside of that shelter, including a sawmill and grain mill along the stream.    Perhaps the single greatest reason for the steady growth of Hope was its largest structure, a sprawling three-story stone building, roofed in expensive red tiles, situated on the original commons within the center of the old wall in the shadow of the ridge.  This building was of sound construction and looked older than it was, even with the recent construction of two new wings that had added maybe a dozen additional rooms to the structure.  The building’s white-painted walls caught the light of the sun that had finally burned through the persistent morning fog.  Despite the martial precautions evident in Hope’s walls, and the tower above, this structure was a place that had clearly not been built for defense, with huge windows, most of which had real glass set into their casements, and several skylights cut into the sloping roof to boot.  A balcony ran along part of the second story in the main wing, connecting several patios with comfortable chairs and overhanging eaves to protect against the rain.  Several people of varying ages and colorations were seated there, wrapped in blankets against the lingering chill.  They were attended by men and women garbed in white, and several others in similar raiment were visible about the grounds, attending to various private tasks.  Allera Hialar Dar was just coming out of the herb-drying shed when a loud whistle from the tower above drew her attention.  She looked up reflexively, and then turned toward the road that emerged from the forest to the south.  The sloping rise on which the village was perched gave her a vantage over the long stone wall that joined with the ridge to form a protective ring around the settlement, so she could just see the wagon that was emerging from the woods into the light of the day. Others had seen it as well, and by the time that the wagon had reached the outer gate, a small group of men, women, and children had gathered.  Allera trailed along behind the company, and a smile came to her face unbidden as she saw her husband on the wagon’s raised seat.  The smile evaporated a moment later as she noticed that something was wrong.  There was a bit of hubbub as Dar said something to the men, and number of them gathered around the back of the wagon.  Allera came forward, deliberately not hastening, although her heart had elected to speed up somewhat despite her attempts to present a calm face.  She knew from experience that village people could be excitable, especially those who chose to make a living out here on the frontier, where the threats were real and ever-present.  Dar wasn’t helping matters.  Allera could read the thundercloud in his expression.  And the blood on his coat...A woman pushed past her, rushing toward the wagon.  “Cael!  CAEL!”Allera followed in the woman’s wake, as she shouldered through the small crowd to the wagon.  The boy, standing atop the stacked cargo at the back of the wagon, looked over as she surged up, and Allera could see that there were traces of blood on his clothes as well.  He did not seem to be injured, but Allera knew that Illyeni’s wrath was not likely to be abated by that.  Dar had gotten down off the wagon, and was directing the men as they lifted two bound figures from the back of the wagon.  He turned as Illyeni reached him.  “The boy’s fine, Yeni...”He didn’t get a chance to finish, as the woman—who had to crane her neck to look into his eyes, slammed a fist into his shoulder.  Dar grunted, and a look of pain flashed on his face.  “Don’t you dare give me your bull, Corath Dar!  I told you that something was going to happen on that road... Damn me for a fool, to listen to your stupid promises!” Cael jumped down from the wagon’s bed, and started to protest, but only managed a few words before his mother enfolded him in a tight embrace.  Allera used that distraction to approach Dar.  Her voice held low so as to not carry beyond him, she said, “You know she’s been protective of Cael ever since her husband died.”Dar muttered, “The boy’s got to learn the ways of the world, eventually.”  He reached over to pick up his cloak off the adjacent wagon board, and grimaced. Allera saw it at once, and touched his shoulder with her fingers, frowning.  She pulled open the collar of his shirt, revealing the hasty bandage he’d wadded under the coarse fabric.  Now she saw why Illyeni’s punch had scored such a reaction.  “You’re hurt.”  Her look was almost accusatory. “Somebody tried to stick a spear in me.” “Looks like they succeeded.”  She pressed a hand against his shoulder, and unleashed a healing spell into him.  He took a deep breath and let it out as the magic flowed through him.  “Thanks, angel.”“I seem to remember giving you a healing potion, before you left.”“I didn’t want the boy to see a prisoner die in front of him.”Allera nodded in understanding.  Her hand lingered on his chest.  “Those men, bandits?”“Yeah, on the south road.  Amateurs, really.”  He looked back at the two prisoners, who were being handled none-too-gently toward the nearby inn by a dozen men.  “We’d better make sure that the sentencing of those two doesn’t precede the trial.”“They’re likely to hang anyway,” Allera said, as they made their way toward the inn.  “Yeah, well, they made their choice.”They were interrupted as another whistle from the tower atop the ridge drew their attention back to the road.  A single rider, pressing a destrier at a full gallop, emerged from the forest.  The two men on guard duty at the gate had lowered their spears into ready positions before they recognized the rider’s colors, and the sigil etched onto his breastplate.  Dar and Allera recognized it as well, and they were there to greet the man as he rode through the gate into the open space near Dar’s wagon.  “Kiron!” Dar hailed.  “What news from Camar?”The young man, clad in the armor of a Dragon Knight, saluted them as he reined in his winded stallion.  “Ill news, unfortunately, general.  The First Citizen is dead, and I am bid to bring you to Camar at once.”Dar and Allera shared a look, and the healer pressed herself under the crook of his arm, wrapping her arms around him.  “I’m sorry,” she said.</blockquote>

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