Four years before coming to the Tower
The square was empty. So was the rest of the village. Eerily so. It wasn’t silent though, as one would expect. The screams saw to that. So, many screams.
With torch in hand, Alric stared at the inn filled with screaming villagers. His stomach roiled at what he was about to do.
“Don’t bloody give me that look,” Alric snapped at the ash colored mare by his side.
The mare wickeder.
“No, I don’t need to be accused by a horse. I have to do it.” Striding purposely forward he raised the torch. The screams grew louder, more frantic. He could hear people beating on the walls and doors. It was no use. They were locked in. It didn’t matter though, they pounded their fists raw, desperate to escape their fate.
Tears streamed from his eyes as he touched the flame to one of the oil soaked piles of hey. “I’m sorry,” he tried to yell. It came out more like a piteous squeak. He continued is circuit around the inn, lighting each pile of kindling. He hated Lord Mindellin for this. More so, he hated himself.
The smoke intensified as the building caught fire. Alric watched alone, save for an accusatory horse. For the rest of the day, and into the evening, Alric stood, staring at the flames screams haunting him long after the last ember died out.
With torch in hand, Alric stared at the inn filled with screaming villagers. His stomach roiled at what he was about to do.
“Don’t bloody give me that look,” Alric snapped at the ash colored mare by his side.
The mare wickeder.
“No, I don’t need to be accused by a horse. I have to do it.” Striding purposely forward he raised the torch. The screams grew louder, more frantic. He could hear people beating on the walls and doors. It was no use. They were locked in. It didn’t matter though, they pounded their fists raw, desperate to escape their fate.
Tears streamed from his eyes as he touched the flame to one of the oil soaked piles of hey. “I’m sorry,” he tried to yell. It came out more like a piteous squeak. He continued is circuit around the inn, lighting each pile of kindling. He hated Lord Mindellin for this. More so, he hated himself.
The smoke intensified as the building caught fire. Alric watched alone, save for an accusatory horse. For the rest of the day, and into the evening, Alric stood, staring at the flames screams haunting him long after the last ember died out.