The day wore on. On and on it went. The repetitiveness of the work draining me with each motion made. Finally, it came time to head home. As luck would have it, the murky clouds that just stood silent the entire day, decided to crack and pour at the very moment I stepped foot on the cobblestones. Wearing light garments of cloth and wool highlighted with leather on the seams was not very protective versus the rain. I had but a few miles to go until I could be in front of my fire with some heavy liquor in my cup.
So on I drudged down the cobblestone path with water soaking me to my core. Colder and colder I felt, and more and more I longed for fire in my stomach and heat dancing on my skin. Suddenly I heard the unmistakable clamor of hooves on cobblestones. The horse and rider flew past me hurling water from puddles all around me. This was water that has mixed with the other elements around this road. This water was worse than that falling from the clouds and now I walked covered in muck and mud.
The pub just before my house is looking more tempting than my home by this point. I see the Sergeant of the Guard in there getting his drink. Perhaps he’ll be able to cheer me up on this bleak night. Miserable and wet I entered the bar just in time to hear a crash, the clang of steel hitting steel, and see a blinding flash of light. Then it was dark.


