Jokers and Rogues

by DocDelray

Crestfall

A small smirk moved across the face of the tall, raven-haired elven man as he strode confidently through the ornate halls of the palace. Ahead of him a pair of knights in full Imperial regalia snapped to attention and removed themselves from his path. He didn't even give them a second glance as he pushed open the large double doors that sat in his way and entered the throne room.

It was a wide, open chamber that stretched on for almost an eternity; the lofty, vaulted ceilings of this lavished assembly room raised three stories into the air. Polished marble pillars lined the path towards the throne itself which sat upon a tall raised dais. All along the pillars and walls hung various tapestries of Imperial lore and might while large ornate windows cast sunlight into the room to push away the darkness with the aid of several braziers that currently sat unlit. Normally this room would host hundreds that came seeking audience with their emperor; today it only hosted two others.

Sitting upon the throne was another elf though this one showed the tell-tale signs of age. A number of wrinkles had taken form along the crevices of his face and began to pull and sag his face beneath his eyes. His deep, silvered hair showed hints of a head once fully pitch-black as several strands still fought hard to keep their original color; it was wreathed by a crown of silver and gold lined with fiery jewels that glinted in the afternoon light. In spite of his long red and white flowing robes there were hints of a past spent in struggle and strength but those days were slipping away. Despite these ravages of time, his eyes were still a harsh, piercing blue that shone with a dim glow.

At the foot of the dais was a human clad in heavy, ragged robes of grey. Time had been far less kind to this man as he stood hunched over and leaning against a staff of obsidian and ebony. His face was heavily pitted with deep, stretching wrinkles and a long white beard that had thinned almost as much as what little hair was still atop his head. Scurrying about at his feet were a pair of warty, impish creatures that carried a variety of books and scrolls between themselves.

"Father, Grand Magus Rengier," he joyfully greeted them with a smile as he approached. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Prince Aidur," the withered man said in a wheezing tone and a bow of his head in greeting.

"Son," the Emperor curtly acknowledged him. "I do not recall summoning you."

"Forgive me father," Laeroth replied with a smirk. "But when I heard that the Grand Magus was going to be presenting you with his latest finds, I just had to be there and see."

Rengier fixed a stern gaze upon the young man. "No doubt on behest of one of your little songbirds."

Aidur did his best to appear overly shocked and offended by this. "Grand Magus, are you accusing me, crown prince of the Acostan throne, son of the noble Emperor Valannthor Mithtinal, ruler of all of Acosta, of spying?" A smirk quickly split his facade. "Of course I've been spying on you, just as I know you spy on me."

"I do not appreciate having your eyes constantly over my shoulders," the old man snapped at him.

"I only act in the interest of the Empire."

"You only act for yourself."

"Enough," Valannthor's voice echoed throughout the room. "Squabble and peck at one another on your own damned time." The pair quickly quieted down and bowed their heads in reverence to him. "The boy would have learned of this meeting before sundown; his presence only serves to speed the process. Now, proceed, Grand Magus."

"Of course, your majesty," he said with a far more humbled voice and a bow of his head. With a motion of his hand, the imps at his feet quickly jumped into action, one of them grabbed a thick tome from his companion's back and then scrabbled atop him to hold the thick book open at eye level with Rengier. "My expedition into Drechsel has born mixed fruit, it would seem. We were able to secure the artifact and successfully cast the ritual needed to open the gateway. According to a report given by the Reaper agent we sent through, this particular plane must be the one spoken of in legend."

"And what makes you so sure of this?" Valannthor asked with a stone faced stare.

"During his reconnaissance he found an alicorn," Rengier said with no shortage of reverence at the mention of the name.

To this the Emperor's brow raised and his statuesque persona began to crack. "An alicorn? He found the fabled guardian of magic? Where is it now?"

"Yes, Grand Magus," Aidur chimed in with a hungry grin. "Where is the legendary alicorn now?"

The ancient magus shot his prince a quick glare before humbling himself before the Emperor yet again. "It would appear there was a...complication."

"Explain," the Emperor commanded with a strong hint of restrained anger.

"She was guarded, your grace," Rengier began to explain. "According to the report, the Reaper agent encountered armed resistance when he attempted to secure the alicorn and return through the portal with it. He sustained several injuries during his retreat before being followed through the portal by one of these equine guards. The spell, as I mentioned in my reports, was designed to close the gateway upon return in order to prevent pursuit or possible invasion from a hostile plane."

"You're glossing over one of the best parts, old man," Aidur merrily chimed. "While the alicorn was lost, father, the Reaper did not, however, return empty-handed. One of the guards he encountered wrestled him through the portal causing the spell's trigger to shut off the gateway."

"Y-yes, that would be correct, my prince," the old man hesitantly confirmed. "He was followed by yet another creature of forgotten legend."

"And this creature was?" the Emperor asked with a slight rise of annoyance in his voice.

"Its equine appearance and bat like appendages lead me to believe that the creature was in fact a thestral, your grace."

"A thestral," Valannthor asked with a small touch of amusement. "A monster that we tell our children stalks the night to feed on the flesh of the disobedient, guarding a sacred creature gifted with the blood of the gods?"

"As blasphemous as it may sound, your majesty, what I beheld exiting the portal could be no other creature."

"And where is this thestral now?"

"It appears to have escaped during a surprise raid by rebel forces," Rengier admitted sadly which caused Valannthor's expression to clearly darken. "The artifact, however, I am pleased to report is safely secured within my laboratory, my liege. Moments after the gateway was sealed I quickly made arrangements to have it spirited away."

This however seemed to quell Valannthor quite a bit. "How soon before you can open the gateway again?"

"It will take time, as expected," he warned. "We must gather reagents again, many of which are quite rare as well as time to gather the immense magical energies needed to pierce through the veil. And finally we must wait for our plane to align once again before contact can be made."

"And this can be done?"

"It has been before."

"Then make haste," the Emperor commanded. "We need the alicorn - the fate of the Empire depends on it."

"What of this thestral, father?" Aidur asked.

"Let the rebels keep their new pet," Valannthor replied as leaned back into the throne. "Some monster roaming the southlands is of no concern to us. With any luck it’ll be tearing the throats out of its liberators for us.”

-------------------------

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuugh,” Amber grumbled. “All this freaking sun suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks!”

She pulled the hood of her undershirt over her head until her eyes could only see the deep grey shade it cast for her. The bright afternoon sun shone down upon her and her companions as they traveled the worn road. What few overcast clouds had remained from the previous day's storm had long since cleared away and left a wide open clear sky in their wake. The lack of shade was starting to become rather annoying to the normally nocturnal mare. On the plus side, at least all this sunlight had managed to dry up most of the mud. Beside her, Rictor continued to keep pace while behind them Rourke and the others traveled with their wagon loaded with traveling supplies.

"It's a beautiful day though," Rictor commented as he glanced down at the mare beside him.

"I don't know if the ears and wings weren't enough of a hint or not," Amber grumbled. "But if you haven't noticed, I'm part bat, meaning nocturnal for the most part. I mean, I don't mind some sunshine or trying to be a bit more active during the day, but freaking jeez, we haven't passed under a tree or cloud for like hours!"

Snickering to himself, the young squire gave her hooded head a ruffle. "We'll be in Crestfall soon enough and then you can hide away at the inn ‘til the big bad sun goes to sleep."

The young man's teasing managed to summon a hint of red that bled its way through the fur of her cheeks. Amber pulled herself out from under Rictor's hand and was about to retort his poking fun at her when something else caught her attention: Upon the breeze there came a scent that was both familiar and foreign to the young mare. Her keen nose picked up on the scent of burnt wood and smoke that wafted through the air but there was something else that clung tightly to it. It was something she'd never smelt before, but it's acrid stench sent a shiver through her entire body.

Rictor saw the sudden change in his friend's demeanor and the looks of worry and confusion that graced her overly expressive eyes. His hand leapt to the hilt of his sword while he scanned the horizon. "Amber, what is it?"

Without a word, she unfurled her wings from her sides and with one swift flap she launched herself into the sky. Even with the added weight of her weapons and armor she was able to rise high into the air and now had nearly perfect view of the world beneath her. She moved her predatory eyes across the landscape until they settled upon what she'd been afraid she'd smelt.

"Alright then," Rourke started. "Yer choice is, one'a them freaky-headed harf’lins or that gnoll bar wench from The Red Dragon, ye know, the one with the one good eye. An' ye gotta marry'er too."

He and Ogrham's little game was suddenly ended when bat-mare companion fell from the sky and into the back of hte cart. "Trouble ahead," she said shakily, her face grim. "Town down the road... it doesn't look good."

-----------------------------

Amber could feel her stomach twisting and ripping itself apart at the sight before her. The stone-and-wood buildings of this village had been burnt to the ground. Bodies had been left in piles where they’d fallen, some had been burnt to a blackened crisp while others were bloated by the various stages of decay and filled her nostrils with the acrid stench. A number of bodies hung from ropes around their necks that hung from the a tree near the center of town. Despite the thick smoke that still hung in the air she could still see the silhouettes of the bodies strewn across the ground and hear the caws of carrion birds as they fed.

One large crow in particular dug its beak deep into the crisped flesh of a tiny twisted form and pulled forth a strip of blackened flesh. As it gobbled it down, Rictor planted the tip of his boot square in the bird’s chest sending it airborne with a shrill cry of protest. The young man looked about the looked about the grizzly scene with burning rage reflected in his eyes.

“Crestfall...," Rictor said in a shaken tone. "These people were farmers and laborers... who would do this?"

“Bandits,” Frank was quick to reply through barred teeth. “This looks like a damned raid.”

“Doubt it,” Rourke corrected him. “Bandits’d jus’ take valuables an’ baubles, they’d’ve killed any folks that tried ta stop’em. Get in an’ get out in a fast attack sort’a thing. This looks like they killed the whole fuck’in town.”

"These fires have only just begun to quell and yet the bodies are rotting so quickly," Sabine pointed out. "The weapons used to kill them were no doubt poisoned to ensure that even the merely wounded would die as well."

“Why would they kill the whole town,” Amber asked with a shake in her voice while several tears began to pain her face. “They killed mares and foals alike, what’s the point of all of this!?”

“I don't know," Rourke growled. "These folk kept ta themselves; never got involved with either side dur'in the war."

As his companions tried to make sense of this destruction and carnage, Ogrham had been silent. The dwarf strode through the debris filled streets and took his time amongst the dead and fallen. He knelt down before the corpse of what was once a child and placed his hand gently atop her partially exposed skull. His eyes shut and tightly as a few tears ran down his scar-blunted face and into his thick beard. His body began to shake and tremble with a growing rage that threatened to shatter the world around him with blind wrath. Gritting his teeth he sprang to his feet and turned towards the rest of the group.

“Rourke,” Ogrham bellowed, “tracks, find ‘em! The rest’a ye, we gather the bodies in the square.”

-------------------

He wanted to throw up when his gloved hand pressed into the crispy flesh of a body and it broke and cracked under the pressure. Rictor pushed this out of his mind as he hefted the body off the cart and carried it the ever growing pit of bodies. His mind began to wander to darkened corners long left unchecked as he pulled another corpse from the wagon to add to the pile. He could feel the long buried memories starting to claw their way back to the surface as he looked over the devastation around him.

There was a scent of smoke and blood, bodies strewn about accompanied by the howl of frigid winds that tore and ripped him apart. He could hear the screams of the dead and dying all around him as he ran through the crumbling halls that tried to swallow him whole. A phantom pain scratched across his scarred cheek and caused his body to shudder with hate and rage. There was a swell of fury when the blade tore into him once again and blood poured from his face. There was the scream of a young woman who rushed to his side, her quivering voice as she begged him to hold on while she pulled him to safety.

This image of a young, red-skinned woman began to fall away when he looked upon Sabine as she was now. The tiefling woman stared into his eyes with a worry and sadness that caused his chest to twist and break. He quickly averted his gaze to aid the mare beside him with the last of the dead for fear that if he stared any longer then his stoic facade might give way to a flow of tears. This nearly came to pass regardless when he felt his sister's arms wrap tightly around him and pull him close.

"Illi nauva hanno." she whispered softly to him in their native tongue.

It shook him to his core to hear her speak in the former language of Acosta, something that neither of them had dared do since their self imposed exile. With little to no thought, his arms tightly embraced her around the middle and tears fell from his eyes. "Hantalë-illo, nésa," he replied in a weakly hushed tone.

The desecrated corpses of the townsfolk had been laid out in lines with a great deal of care and respect at the center of the ruined town. Silence fell upon them all as the grime and gore stained dwarf of their troupe strode forward and took a knee before the assembled dead. He took the hefty warmaul from where it was slung across his back and touched its head to the ground.

Orgrham bowed his head against the shaft of his weapon and said. “Roirdain, father'a stone, war, honor an’ brotherhood, I call to ye now on this black day. I ask ye ta watch over the souls ’a these fallen. Though they are notta my blood nor kin ta me, I pray that ye guard their souls an’ guide them well to their final restin’ place wherever that may be. Grant them the peace in death that was taken from 'em in life."

As his prayer came to a close, golden hued energy began to snake its way through the runic markings of his hammer. His weapon became a bright, glowing beacon of golden light that shone through the smoke and haze of the village square. He raised the hammer high above his head and brought it down upon the ground with all the force his thick arms could provide. Stone and solid earth cracked and broke beneath the blow and a burst of brilliant white energy leapt from the hammer's head. The stream of radiant energy struck the piled bodies and a spark of blue flames rose up from them. It burned and consumed the dead flesh, leaving only flecks of gold that floated off in the wind. No one dared say a word as they watched this sad yet oddly beautiful act play out before them.

Amber could feel a strange wash of awe and sadness fill her body as she watched the golden ashy particles drift about until they were swept into the air by a passing breeze. She wiped her head around and stared at them in wonder as they flew away on their unseen wings. There was little to no way for her to hold back the tears that began to roll down from her eyes and tumble across her muzzle. All around her, the softly glowing slivers of what had once been an entire village danced through the air.

Despite the eerie beauty of it all, it was just far too much for her. These had been stallions, mares and their foals, all of which had been cut down without mercy and now they were not but motes of dust. She clamped her eyes shut tightly and took off at a full gallop away from this scene. Little did she realize that her abrupt exit had not gone unnoticed.

Rising to his feet, Ogrham turned his attention now to Rourke, "The tracks?"

"Aye, found 'em," he replied with a nod. "They headed west from the village. They've got a clear head start on us, but they're transportin’ some'in big an' heavy, should slow 'em down a wee bit."

"Good," Ogrham said with a grunt. "Then let's go an' kill everyone 'a the bloody dogs."

-----------------------

She ran blindly through the crumbled streets of Crestfall, bumping and stumbling into various pieces of debris. She lost her footing along the way and fell to the ash and grime stained ground causing the tears to flow profusely from her eyes. Forcing through the pain, she got back to her hooves and ran until all around her was not but the thick woodlands that surround Crestfall.

Finally free of the town and it's choking scent, she fell to the soft forest floor and began to weep openly. She screamed and cried but no one and nothing replied to her wails of pain and confusion. Her twisted and torn insides could no longer take the stress. The stench of death, flesh and rot still hung heavily upon her coat and burned through her nostrils. Her throat clenched tightly for a moment before everything in her stomach purged itself through her mouth.

Amber painfully wretched, gagged and coughed as pool of bile and tears started to form at her hooves. The taste burned her mouth and the freshly added stink only caused her to throw up even more. She could feel her legs becoming weaker and her entire body trembling as painful spasms shook her from the core. Tears continued to fall from her face as she wept and screamed through the hurt, both physical and mental.

Her ears twitched and her head snapped around at the sound of twig snapping. With a strand of vomit still hanging from her lip, she looked up to see Rictor staring down at her sadly. Breathing heavily through the last of her spasms she wiped her face clean and quickly looked away from her companion in shame.

"Lady Shine," he called to her with a concerned voice.

"I'm... I'm fine," she coughed out with a wheeze.

"The savage nature of our world weighs heavily upon you," Rictor commented as he slowly and cautiously closed the gap.

"I just..." she stammered in frustration. "The Guard trained me, they prepared me for anything. They taught me and everypony like me how to face any challenge and overcome it. But this... nopony prepares you for this."

She bristled for a moment when his hand came to rest upon the back of her neck, but it quickly faded. A relaxed feeling emanated from where he placed his hand and began to spread throughout her body. Amber knew from the sound of his armor and the shift of his hand that he'd taken a knee beside her. A canteen of water was then lifted into her vision which she quickly took in her hooves. Settling upon her haunches she drank the cleansing liquid and purged her wounded pallet of the foul taste that stained it.

The young man simply sat beside her, running his hand down her neck in a comforting motion. No words passed between them as Amber fought to regain her wits and control over her body as a whole. With a tired sigh she handed off the canteen to him and wiped the excess from her mouth.

"You probably think I'm weak after seeing me like that," she said with a low whimper.

"During the battle in which I and my sister fled, I saw much death on the same scale as today," he said in a hushed tone. "I was only a boy of ten years when I saw a man cut down in front of me. After we escaped, I was constantly plagued by nightmares and wept myself to sleep every night. You're not weak, Lady Shine, you are a woman with a heart and I pray that you do not lose it."

Amber could feel herself begin to tremble once again as a fresh coating of tears began to break their way free of her eyes and trickle down her face. Without thinking she threw her forelimbs around the young squire's midsection and squeezed him with all her might. Rictor let out a surprised gasp when he felt the oddly strong pressure that the mare's tiny frame was able to produce as it pressed against his armor. The squire let her hold him, making no motion to force her away while he ran his hand through her mane. As her tears stained and soaked his tabard Amber began to feel something she hadn't since the day she came to this hostile world. For the first time she didn't feel so alone.

--------------------------------

The serene peace of the forest was suddenly dashed as a tiny figure burst from the underbrush. A small boy with flaxen hair and blue eyes ran as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. Tears, dirt and blood stained his face and clothes, Skin and attire alike were ripped and torn by the clawing branches that reached for him as he passed. A misplaced root caused him to tumbled head over heel down an embankment until he came to a stop in a shallow stream at the bottom.

“BOY!” a loud gruff voice from far behind him in the woods sent a cold chill through his body.

Coughing and wheezing, he pushed himself up on shaky arms as he fought against the blinding pain that filled him from his lungs to limbs. In a panic he clawed and clambered to pull himself into a mass of roots at the side of the bank. He bit down hard on his pain and fear when a pair of thick leather boots plopped themselves into the muddy water just a few feet away from his hiding place.

“Where ye at, boy,” growled the far larger man. His shaved head and face was marred by a number of scars that seemed to fit well with the ones that littered his patchwork armor. In his hand was a long sword that clearly had seen better days judging from the poor quality of the weapon. He trudged about in an angry huff as he scanned about the stream bed.

“C’mon out boy,” he shouted. “Makin’ me mad’s only gonna make it worse for ye when I find you!”

The child covered his mouth tightly with his hand to muffle his urge to break into a fit of tears and screams. Just inches away from him the irate bandit paced back and forth as he continued to mutter angrily to himself. “When I find ‘em I’m gonna hack his feet off; see ‘em run away then, says I.”

From his hiding spot under the tree’s roots he watched as the man stomped his way out of the streambed and started to jog off into the bush. He sat and watched for a moment before carefully poking his head out. Slowly he felt his courage returning as he carefully and quietly pulled himself out from the roots as if the slightest sound would conjure his pursuer the moment it was made. As he started to stand up though, his arm was snatched in a vice like grip and he was roughly hoisted off his feet. The boy let out a loud shriek of pain and terror as the muscles of his arm twisted into an odd angle while his arm’s socket threatened to pop loose.

“Jus’ like catchin’ a rabbit,” the bandit mused happily. “You’re lucky we need you an’ the others alive, ye little shit,” he snarled into the squirming child’s ear. “I’ve a mind to hack your legs up so’s ye can’t run again, in fact…” He brought his sword to the child’s thigh and poked and prodded him, just barely cutting through his clothes and into the skin to draw small lines of blood. “Maybe I will, could always tell the others ye fell an’ got messed up that way.”

From within the confines of the wilds a single shaft split the air and buried itself into the bandit’s shoulder. The shock and pain from the arrow rending flesh and shattering the joint of his shoulder caused him to lose his grip on the boy. As the child tumbled to the muddy ground a bluish blur scooped him from the ground before swiftly retreating with him in tow. His senses starting to return, the outlaw soon found himself suddenly surrounded by several armed and angry figures.

“What was that ye said ‘bout catchin’ rabbits, mate?” Rourke asked as he drew back another arrow. “‘Cause I just think I caught me the king o’ the coneys.”

Amber came to a very careful landing behind her comrades and gingerly released the child from the grip of her forelimbs. “It’s okay, we’re here to save you,” she softly assured the little boy.

The bandit fell back against the tree behind him with his sword raised to defend himself but as he weighed his odds he let it slip from his hand. "I surrender," he said with a grin.

From the corner of his eyes Rourke caught sight of the gleam in Ogrham's eye. "Shine, Squire, see ta the boy, far from here if ye'd please."

With a nod of agreement, the pair ushered the child away from the already far too tense scene. When the child was well out of sight Ogrham began to close the gap with the wounded man, his hammer resting upon his shoulder. The hate and rage brimming in the dwarf's glare caused him to shrink and glance about the area in a panic.

"Oi, I surrendered," he reminded them. "Ye know, given up, parlay, don't wanna fight no more, that sorta thing. I ain't even got a weapon no more."

"Tell me lady," Ogrham said. "'Ow many 'a them villagers said the same thing ta ye?"

His eyes went wide when those spiteful words entered his ears. Before he could muster up a word the heavy maul was brought down with all the force the dwarf could muster. The air was filled with screams and wails of pain that helped to drown out the dull wet THUMP and CRUNCH of the warhammer slamming down on top of his knee. Blood spurted from the point of impact while the lower half the leg was suddenly contorted upwards at an odd angle. Ogrham pried the hammer free of its resting place with a sickening sound. Chunks of meat and bone dropped from the face of his maul with a steady stream of blood sloshing off the head.

"Jus' wanted ta make sure ye dinna try an' run away," the dwarf said mockingly. "Now, let's 'ave a wee little chat."

---------------------------

Amber inwardly flinched as her sharp pointed ears picked up every scream and howl that was happening further downstream. Instead she kept a happy face as she trotted along the bank with the tiny human upon her back and holding onto her neck. She could feel him shivering and shaking a little less and less the further away they got from his attacker.

"It's okay sweetie," Amber repeated for the tenth time. "You're safe now, we won't let anyone hurt you."

Eventually they came to a stop where she knelt down and let his clamber off her back with a little help from her wings. The child looked up at her with a mixture of fear and wonder in his eyes as he looked the armored mare up and down. It brought a smile to her muzzle as it reminded her of the way little colts and fillies would stare up at her and her compatriots when they went on parade. So much so that she couldn't resist puffing her chest out a bit with a brazenly confident smile even going so far as to fully stretch out her wings to show off their full span to the child.

"Yeah, pretty cool huh," Amber said with a smirk. "Maybe when you're feeling better I'll take you for a flight?"

Amber and her ego both quickly deflated when the boy backed away and began eyeing her fearfully. She quickly folded her wings back against her sides and took a step away from the trembling lad. In her eyes he looked like a frightened animal that had been cornered and ready to bolt in the blink of an eye. She threw a concerned look towards Rictor who picked up on her cue and cautiously knelt down beside the boy. At first he shied away from the squire but slowly he looked to warm up to him a bit faster than with Amber.

"Child, do you know what this symbol means?" he asked pointing to the crest upon his tabard. When he nodded in reply, a soft smile graced Rictor's features. "Then you know I will not harm you and I swear to you that neither will my companions. It's as she said: You're safe now."

For a moment all he did was look between the two with a clear uneasiness radiating from him. Then all at once a torrent fell from his eyes and he threw his tiny arms around Rictor's mid-section. The child cried and wept against the squire's tabard while Rictor gently stroked his hair. Amber couldn't help but feel a warm-hearted smile pull itself across her muzzle as she watched this all unfold.

"Can you tell us your name, sweetie?" Amber asked in a soft tone.

He was hesitant, glancing between the two before giving his answer with downcast eyes. "Martin..."

"Named after the great hero, yes," Rictor asked and the boy nodded a yes. "You've done him an honor by being so brave thus far. Can you tell us how you ended up in these woods?"

"The bad people," he replied in a hushed tone. "They gathered us up an' were takin’ us some place... but I'm small an' slipped through the bars of the cage. I... I was gonna run for help, but... but that man spotted me na' was chasin’ me an'... an’…"

Amber leaned in and nuzzled the boy's cheek with a soft smile. "It’s okay Martin, it’s okay, you found the help you went looking for. You’re safe now, sweetie."

“But… but what if they come back?”

“Then we stop them,” Rictor told him. “Now, dry your eyes lad, we’ve still a long road ahead of us.”

Comments

[Maestro]

This so far is great you really know how to tell a story! Some very minor spelling errors but overall nothing bad. I very much am looking forward to more. Cheers!