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|A shameful act committed on a dark eve saps the strength of the old and gives destiny to three young babes.||
A man sat on a three legged stool staring at the fire in the corner. That he was muttering to himself one could be certain, but no sound escaped his lips. Every now and again he would glance up and over to three maids resting in the corner. Fine strong gals they were, each wrapped about with a dark cloak that came down over her face as she gazed at the bundle she carried in her arms. The babes laying there were awake, but expectancy cast his spell on them too and they were silent.
Without warning, the door creaked open. If one had blinked he would have missed the the man on the stool placeing himself before the maids and readying for battle. In his hands two elegant blades were drawn and readied to work their course over any that would dare approach. He gazed intently at the door. A lone figure stood there wrapped in a wet cloak its hood too pulled low over his face. On his back a broad axe was strapped securely. At the sight of the defender he immediatly put his hands out and up to show that he meant no ill will.
Having expected the newcomer, the defender returned his blades to their resting place and looked mournfully to the maids. Each nodded her head then stood and walked swiftly from the room carrying her ward protectively as she went. When they had gone, the defender looked again to the newcomer.
It is done then?
In response, the cloaked figure let his hands down in shame and nodded.
The defender tiredly dropped back to his stool and resumed his watch over the fire. "Saints and Ancestors forgive us... Long Live the King..."
|Troika - Chapter 1|