The first in thoughts donlamir's head were of the small town being obliterated, but in the depths of his soul he dammed his thoughts.
He retired to his chamber before the group were to leave picking his sword and his father’s helm, albeit this was just a scout mission he wasn't taking any chances and the first sign of a orc would mean a little more revenge.
A little way inside the woods he caught up with the rest of the group and proceeded to the town. The air could have been cut with a knife as all of them knew that their mission had a new purpose they now knew that a band of orcs had attacked the town.
The reality of the mission had grown some as Fededhor had some family in the town. Whilst marching in the woods three things rung through donlamir's head about this mission and he repeated them over and over, the silence, the importance and the wait the last the one he hated the most.
[ April 08, 2003: Message edited by: Donlammenion ]
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