Prologue - The old Tavern

      The tavern was nearly deserted these days. The innkeeper was an old woman waiting for the end of her misery while still serving patrons, most likely as a deep rooted habit. The tavern was prosperous once, as it was only four days away from the Greyson castle, which brought enough traffic to the road to keep the main chamber filled with a blend of laughter, shouting and uncalled for insults. In those days, mead from Villom would fill bronze cups and stain the silk drapes covering the walls. Today, pig’s ale is spat into rotten, wooden mugs and the walls stand bare, as whatever bronze wasn’t stolen during the riot, it was sold shortly after, the same for the drapes or anything of value in the tavern. The old woman never spoke to the patrons anymore and if they forgot to pay, she wouldn’t bother to protest in any way. She was close to seventy two years, a venerable age for someone who suffered through most of their life. The riot which burnt the Greyson castle to the ground took away her two sons, who were both signed guards to Lord Greyson, a true parasite of a man if there ever was one. The old woman waddled briskly between the empty tables towards the only patrons she’d seen in weeks, two men wearing hoods. Although they placed no order, she left on their table two mugs full of pig’s ale, which is fermented yeast and malt, too much water and whatever the innkeeper feels like throwing inside to give it the illusion of taste. The men drank mug after mug while talking in silence, keeping their faces under the wool hoods. Finally, as the sun was setting, they stood, paid and left. They were the last patrons the old woman ever served.

                     *

 “Is it ready?” One of the hooded men asked after waking up in the night. “Not yet.” Answered the other. “How long until it’s ready?” Asked the man with the deeper voice of the two, again. “Maybe an hour, maybe two. Maybe I won’t be able to finish it at all.” The younger man answered, working on what appeared to be a small crossbow. The other man muttered something involving the other’s mother and a horse, then went back to sleep.