Monday's feature introduced an older anthology story from Myr, and we want more! Well, those of us who have read it. If you haven't, maybe this excerpt will whet your appetite!
Ryn figured he could catch up to the group in about six candlemarks, if he pushed his horses as far as he could and switched them out at outposts along the way. He expected the storm in no more than seven candlemarks, and once the storm started, it would be impossible to travel within a candlemark—at best.
The long candlemarks on the road were trying. Ryn knew he received more assignments than most Rangers did, and he took some pride in the reason. He was better educated than most and certainly had better connections because of his family ties. The General and Commanders used that to their advantage, but at times like this, it left Ryn feeling lonely and hollow inside. Despite his close friendships with several different young men, they were not his equal, nor were they anything other than someone to share warmth with during the harsh winters of Erif.
Ryn slowed to a light canter, knowing he should be closing in on the Dranese trade group. He reviewed his speech in his head to get these stubborn people to a bolt-hole as quickly as he could. He did not think they would complain much as the Dranese guests were from a much warmer continent than this one. The bolt-holes were not fit for distinguished guests, but they certainly beat freezing to death in a blizzard.
Ryan slowed to a trot. His enhanced senses screamed at him. Something was definitely wrong. There was a stillness in the air, and the only sound came from his horse. He should’ve seen or heard the party by now—even if at a distance. A light tingle of magic tickled his skin as he passed through some sort of magical barrier. He sharply reined in his horse, slowing to a walk as he closed his eyes and focused on his magical senses. The magic in the area was disturbed, spinning about in little currents and eddies instead of flowing calmly over the landscape as it should. Opening his eyes once again, he loosed his sword. A battle of some sort, including heavy magic usage, occurred in the vicinity. He felt a light tingle of magic as he passed through some sort of invisible barrier again. A sense of foreboding filled him as he approached a sharp bend in the road.
Coming around the corner, he stared downhill into a massacre. Bodies were strewn everywhere from a great battle. As he approached, he could see Rangers from the standard road patrol, people from the Dranese group, and bandits. The bandits appeared to be from The Empire. The two groups had clearly killed each other. Someone probably got away, but with the storm approaching there was no time for him to track the bandits down. The only thing he could do was check for survivors.
Holding back the bile he felt rising at the sight of the dead bodies, Ryn cast a powerful life detection spell.
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