Damn it all

The Oak Cup

Carver looked at the bottom of her cup and waved her hand at the nearest servant girl and called for another jug of ale. She had to admit the stuff had grown on her over the last year. Skunkwork Ale had became a favourite among the city with a sudden rise in popularity especially after the brutal death of one of its owners at his wedding feast.

Three years of hard work, surviving hunger, deprivation, a mad murderous cult, a native assassin who wrecked bloody fear upo n the city and a bloody war, to finally receive her parcel of land and be out of the City's Guard.

She should be happy. Land, enough gold from her dealings with that strange bounty hunter and Carver was ready to enjoy the fruits of her labour. Be a land owner. Free of taxes for the next three years.

Of course the bloody Pillars would have other plans for her. It didn't matter how many steps she took forward something always seemed to pull her back.

She still spoke to many men and women recentely under her command. Rumours were already starting to circulate among the army and guard, that another war was coming. That the natives of this land were taking up arms against them.

There were always rumours of war and usually she would have dismissed it. But than he called for her. To meet her here of all places. And in the pit of her stomach she knew she was about to be dragged back. And that the rumours this time we're likely to be true.

He opened the door and stepped into the lavishly furnished interior. The bar had been set up against the far wall, stretching out into the center of the room. Sir Zane pushed his way past the revelers, ignoring salutes and greetings heading to her table.

Several men offered to buy the older Knight a drink but he dismissed them with a wave of his hand and a smile.

He was a bear of a man. Tall, broad shouldered and barrel chested. Elemental almost. In another time, another place, Carver would have jumped his bones and was sure she would not have regretted it the morning after. The man was known to have the stamina of a bull in the battlefield.

He sat at her table nodding at her. Carver drained her cup again in one swift gulp.

"Why do I get the feeling that everywhere you walk, crows gather?" She asked slightly drunk. Zin's balls, maybe this was the right time and place, to give the old stallion on last ride around the paddock.

"We need to talk." He told her knowing she was not going to like what was coming next.