His cloak is ragged, his stomach cramped. Does he cry for fallen friends, for tankards never to be raised again to the long rafters? Where are his companions, his brothers and benchmates? All stiff and staring in fields they lie. Their spears are broken, their swords blunt. Oh, where shall he go, this lone exile? Shall he cross the water? What is to become of him? What if he were you? Lament of the Lonely TravellerAnonymous (attributed by some to Fisher Tel Kath) TWELVE DAYS AFTER THE STORM, THE KESTRAL AND THE> Wanderer dropped anchor at a length of uninhabited shoreline of the Sea of Chimes. At Shimmer's orders, the Nabrajan captains had kept clear of all coastline where possible, yet what lengths of shore Kyle had glimpsed appeared far from promising: grey and black tumbled rocks skirted by twisted and stunted trees, distant dusty-grey rounded hillocks, and forests of thin black-limbed evergreens. Glimpses of a level plateau of some sort broken up by copses of trees. That dawn Kyle had watch.
What do You think about Return Of The Crimson Guard?
