Role

Chapter 2

Nossos was sleeping in the small room he had rented in Galadon.
Tossing and turning all night. It had been some months since
Dorlangan had brought them out of the mountains and south to this
strange, yet somehow familiar city.

In his dream he is standing in a dark mist, he can barely make
out the outlines of houses in a small village near the mouth of
a great mine. Behind him, a barn, looming darkly with shapes
inside that move with a strange otherworldliness.

A voice from behind, speaking in tones so muffled, he can't make
out the words, but its a womans voice, of that he's sure. As he
looks down, he can see a blacksmiths apron hanging off his neck,
tied tightly around his back. A large hammer is there, in his
hand, gripped tightly.

The voice behind him is getting more insistent, more urgent, almost
desperate...

And then he wakes.