Politics make a person swell with self importance. Sometimes a great leader can not see the small people right at their feet. Sometimes great leaders lose all perspective of life and the real humans that are right next to them.”
“Please be quiet,” Wynnfrith simply said.
“I am your greatest supporter,” Garmee Gamee went on, “and I will fight right beside you in all things. Ah, here is the residence of Frea and Halldora, another great Queen, Queen of the Northern Kingdom of Man. Shall we go in?”
Halldora’s house was three times the size of Alrhett’s. It truly was a mansion. It’s block like shape held twenty bedrooms and several rooms for entertaining and dining. Although Halldora had no desire for such a large home, the migrants from the Kingdom of Man who had settled in New Rogar Li insisted on building the expansive home for her as a show of strength and influence. The palatial structure was notable for the massive front door painted a bright red and guilt in gold, the colors of the royal house of the Northern Kingdom of Man.
Wynnfrith and Garmee Gamee were admitted into the huge, new residence. They were led through a marble clad foyer, hung with expensive tapestries and appointed with white marble busts of the previous kings of Man, to a central courtyard where the clash of weapons could be heard.
In the gardened atrium, Frea, the red haired princess of Man, circled Ronenth, a young, dark haired, dark eyed Glaf.
Ronenth was the last of three Glafs, a race driven to the brink of extinction by the neighboring nation to the north, The Northern Kingdom of Man. But, it was the invading garond army that had finished off both capitols, Ethgeow of Man, and Glafemen of Glaf.
Ronenth had a look of perpetual sorrow always on his dark face, having seen his family and entire race slaughtered before his very eyes, at the age of twelve. Now at sixteen, and growing so much larger in stature and musculature, he seemed to be bursting with a pent up store of violence that needed to be released at the garond general, Ravensdred who had taken everything in his world from him.
“Let us break,” Ronenth said with exhalations of weariness.
“Then drop your weapon and yield,” Frea viciously said, and jabbed her sword at Ronenth, who brought his shield up with a mighty clang just in time to save his skull from being impaled.
Frea was now only four moonths from turning seventeen, yet she held the air and athleticism of an adult. She had been taken hostage by the garond General Ravensdred the previous year, and the terror of the experience had hardened her beyond her tender years.
Both Frea and Ronenth wore bronze chest protectors, wielded bronze, battle swords, and hefted wood and bronze shields. Frea rained down overhand slashes at Ronenth, any strike would have been lethal, but Ronenth deflected with expert skill.
“Hello!” Garmee Gamee chimed.
Ronenth turned his head at the greeting, and Frea swung a decapitating back hand slash at him. Ronenth leapt back with a hair’s breadth of safety.
“Now really!” Ronenth angrily said to Frea. “You could have killed me!”
“Never let your guard down!” Frea said with blood in her eye.
“Who is teaching whom?” Ronenth angrily said as he threw his weapons to the tiled floor with a clatter. Ronenth struggled with his chest protector and angrily stalked away into the corridors of the mansion.
“Ronenth,” Frea cried as she suddenly came to her senses. “I’m sorry! Come back!” Frea dejectedly sat on a stone bench.
“You’ve really hurt him,” Garmee Gamee said.
Frea turned to fix the woman with a regal glare.
“Frea,” Wynnfrith pled, kneeling, holding her skirts, “have you heard from Arnwylf?”
Frea was quiet, letting the violence in her subside. She gently touched Wynnfrith’s face. Then turned to look again at Garmee Gamee. “Whom did you say you were?” Frea asked with a suspicious squint.
“I’m Garmee Gamee,” she said with a
“Please be quiet,” Wynnfrith simply said.
“I am your greatest supporter,” Garmee Gamee went on, “and I will fight right beside you in all things. Ah, here is the residence of Frea and Halldora, another great Queen, Queen of the Northern Kingdom of Man. Shall we go in?”
Halldora’s house was three times the size of Alrhett’s. It truly was a mansion. It’s block like shape held twenty bedrooms and several rooms for entertaining and dining. Although Halldora had no desire for such a large home, the migrants from the Kingdom of Man who had settled in New Rogar Li insisted on building the expansive home for her as a show of strength and influence. The palatial structure was notable for the massive front door painted a bright red and guilt in gold, the colors of the royal house of the Northern Kingdom of Man.
Wynnfrith and Garmee Gamee were admitted into the huge, new residence. They were led through a marble clad foyer, hung with expensive tapestries and appointed with white marble busts of the previous kings of Man, to a central courtyard where the clash of weapons could be heard.
In the gardened atrium, Frea, the red haired princess of Man, circled Ronenth, a young, dark haired, dark eyed Glaf.
Ronenth was the last of three Glafs, a race driven to the brink of extinction by the neighboring nation to the north, The Northern Kingdom of Man. But, it was the invading garond army that had finished off both capitols, Ethgeow of Man, and Glafemen of Glaf.
Ronenth had a look of perpetual sorrow always on his dark face, having seen his family and entire race slaughtered before his very eyes, at the age of twelve. Now at sixteen, and growing so much larger in stature and musculature, he seemed to be bursting with a pent up store of violence that needed to be released at the garond general, Ravensdred who had taken everything in his world from him.
“Let us break,” Ronenth said with exhalations of weariness.
“Then drop your weapon and yield,” Frea viciously said, and jabbed her sword at Ronenth, who brought his shield up with a mighty clang just in time to save his skull from being impaled.
Frea was now only four moonths from turning seventeen, yet she held the air and athleticism of an adult. She had been taken hostage by the garond General Ravensdred the previous year, and the terror of the experience had hardened her beyond her tender years.
Both Frea and Ronenth wore bronze chest protectors, wielded bronze, battle swords, and hefted wood and bronze shields. Frea rained down overhand slashes at Ronenth, any strike would have been lethal, but Ronenth deflected with expert skill.
“Hello!” Garmee Gamee chimed.
Ronenth turned his head at the greeting, and Frea swung a decapitating back hand slash at him. Ronenth leapt back with a hair’s breadth of safety.
“Now really!” Ronenth angrily said to Frea. “You could have killed me!”
“Never let your guard down!” Frea said with blood in her eye.
“Who is teaching whom?” Ronenth angrily said as he threw his weapons to the tiled floor with a clatter. Ronenth struggled with his chest protector and angrily stalked away into the corridors of the mansion.
“Ronenth,” Frea cried as she suddenly came to her senses. “I’m sorry! Come back!” Frea dejectedly sat on a stone bench.
“You’ve really hurt him,” Garmee Gamee said.
Frea turned to fix the woman with a regal glare.
“Frea,” Wynnfrith pled, kneeling, holding her skirts, “have you heard from Arnwylf?”
Frea was quiet, letting the violence in her subside. She gently touched Wynnfrith’s face. Then turned to look again at Garmee Gamee. “Whom did you say you were?” Frea asked with a suspicious squint.
“I’m Garmee Gamee,” she said with a
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