[RPG] [FEI][NH] A reunion of sorts

[Donald Munro]

The sun hung low over the forests of Idaol, beams of light peircing through 
the bare limbs of the trees bringing an offering of promised spring warmth 
in the dying hours of the day.    The laboured breathing of men could be 
heard, the thud of tired footsteps carrying through the woods.

As they moved down the path the sound of a cracking branch echoed out from 
the woods.    The shriek of drawing blades was followed by mocking laughter, 
"Now, dear Cousin.   Are all your men so jumpy?   Or has your preaching put 
the fear of the Gods into them so?"

A well built man, hard muscled and broad shouldered stepped into the light 
from the shadows.    A wickedly curved bastard sword at his side, a scaled 
breastplate and thick leather armour was worn with a heavy dark brown cloak. 
A half dozen daggers staggered across his body, some nearly long enough to 
be short swords.    He grinned a wolfish smile, the long unkept hair was 
tied back in a pony tail, the hair kept out of his face.

He whistled a soft tune and a handful of men stepped out of the woods, their 
own leather armour and dark cloaks hiding them in the forests gloom as the 
sun set ever lower in the sky.    Farrin Rothach waved his hand slightly and 
his men sheathed their blades, jagged swords that seemed overly ornate for 
their dress.    Each man had a small shield as well, a short sword sheathed 
on the inside.

Phellan glowered slightly at the sight of his cousin but motioned for his 
men to relax, "Farrin . . .it has been some time.    I see you travel light. 
. . your camp is nearby then?"

The younger Rothach nodded as he stepped onto the path his men following 
suit.   He rubbed the mane of the large warhorse that Phellan rode, "Indeed, 
just ahead.   I was hoping to see you sooner cousin. . . I have been gone 
for three years."

The Inquisitor dismounted, handing off the reins to one of the scouts, "Go 
ahead Gotwin, make camp with my Cousins men.    We'll be along shortly. . ." 
With an abrupt turn he turned walking off the path, back into the woods. 
He knew Farrin would follow, too many questions remained after his depature 
so many years before.

Watching the heavily armoured Knight walk away Farrin considered his 
options.   Shrugging slightly he walked after the man.

"Where is she Phellan?" he called out as they left the path well behind, "I 
left because the family demanded it -- I did not leave behind my commitments 
nor promises to those who I was forced to abandon."

The Lord turned quickly, his heavy greaves crushing into the snow. 
Farrin knew the look of anger even before the harsh voice reached his ears, 
"Do not speak to me of how we made you leave Farrin -- you chose your 
actions.    Murdering an innocent man in a jealous fit?     You brought 
disgrace upon the entire family with your bloody ways.    Killing a commoner 
in a fight over a peasant girl -- you knew better.     Do you remember what 
you did to Vallyn when he tried to stop you?    You nearly struck him 
down -- had he not been nearly your match with the blade you might have 
suceeded as well."

With a quick lunge Farrin drove his shoulder into Phellan's chest, knocking 
the Inquisitor backwards, his greaves slipping on the snow, sending them 
both to the ground.    The younger Rothach's muscles bulged under his 
leather armour, managing to pin his cousin to the ground -- the man's 
heavier armour working against him.

"Do not speak of that which you know not Phellan -- I left much behind here. 
The family had little interest in my story once they heard Vallyn's account. 
You know well your brothers exemplary integrity."   Farrin's voice was 
etched with sarcasm and loathing, "Now. . .where is she cousin?   I sent men 
to find her, but they returned after fruitless searches."

The stocky man stood slowly, reaching down a hand to his cousin.   Phellan 
took the offered help, he had lost the anger of the moment, "I. . .do not 
know Farrin.   I kept her well looked after in Apelen -- I did not agree 
with father's decision to send her from our lands.     However she 
disappeared this winter -- though I will tell you that you have a daughter - 
Kisalyn.     I have not heard from them in some time - my man there died 
fighting the undead that struck at Apelen last winter.     Since then I have 
not heard from her, nor have I seen a sign.    She has simply vanished.    I 
am sorry Farrin.   I cannot tell you where she is. . ."

The unkept looking man hardened at the news, a cold even mask holding in 
whatever he was contemplating.   Phellan looked uneasily at his cousin who 
would normally have raged and let his emotions run amok.    This new control 
was disconcerting at the very least, making the unpredictable man even more 
dangerous.

The calm controlled voice of Farrin spoke softly into the night, words the 
Inquisitor would later find foreboding as he tried to rest, "Thank you 
cousin, you have done me a great service.    I shall remember that.    Now, 
let us return to the camp, the fires are warm and I wish to hear more of 
this war we find ourselves in."