Eyes from afar

From an adjoining bluff overlooking Jeke, Sunder watched on, concealing himself like a chameleon in the snow. Like the church knights he was clad in armour, but his was cheap, scratched and dented, the metal unpainted and unpolished with no markings to suggest his origins. Though cheap it was perfectly fit so as not to make any unnecessary sound. A layer of snow and frost coated it. Keeping snow in his mouth as to hid his breath he was a ghost in those mountains.

He carefully lifted a battered telescope to the visor of his helm and swept the land in front of the ruined fortress. It was a chaotic field of battle with splatters of blood and viscera from the bodies of a man and a horse. The Sarnian witch hunters chasing someone had apparently fallen afoul of a grandstanding hero who was one hell of an archer, and a sword wielding maniac.

Sunder focused the telescope on the latter, confirming it was indeed the strange man from the north he had been tracking. Both individuals had come to the aid of the lovely young blonde before he had had a chance to himself. The maid reminded Sunder of someone he cared deeply for. But even from this distance he could see the differences, and that the girl was not the Mother. Not even human, in fact. But she'd insist all life is worth trying to save. And if things got any worse, he'd have to step in.