Chapter 1: First Steps

Ananir 10th, YED 4068
CASHEL SAT BOLT upright, jerking out of an abyssally deep, dreamless sleep. He remembered staggering into Duron, after a night-time flight down and unlit and ill kept track, stumbling and tripping the whole way, so that his knees and shins and hands were blue and tender as fresh deer meat. He did not remember just how late he and Marak had stumbled into Duron. In fact he remembered little of the path they followed, so much time had he spent looking back.
Back to watch for pursuit.
Back for his father.
Then they had found a place to rest, and Marak had told him it was safe, and though he thought it impossible he was unconscious before he had drawn the crude blanket over his shoulders.
And now he found himself on a guest's palette, next to the firepit, in the great lodge of Duron, with the grey light of early morning showing through the chimney. And Marak sitting a at the pit's edge, inspecting his staff.
"Soft lad." he growled, his Ralstaan heavily accented, flashing his usual wry grin, though it was touched with pity "It is day. You are battered from our flight. Rest."

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2