North Silverwood

Lady Laisha stepped into her study, the desk and tables covered in what appeared to be maps.  She was holding a letter in her hand, handed to her as soon as she returned to the manor.  She walked over to the largest map on one of the tables.  It was scribbled with markings, detailing Clarion Call locations and all recent scout reports on the border with Poinsbruk.  None of those reports were as detailed as the letter in her hand, though.  Sloppily dipping her pen into her inkwell, she drew a large 'X' across Poinsbruk.

"Roderick!" she called suddenly.  Within moments, her chamberlain was at the door.  A middle-aged man, he limped with cane, an injury sustained fighting alongside the Clarion Call against the Mystmountains.  Strangely, she found he could cross her home much quicker than she could ever anticipate.  "Is Alvin near?"

Roderick nodded and left before she could give him additional instructions.  He was always good like that.  She waited a quarter of an hour before Sir Alvin Geoffrey stepped in.  He was in his riding gear, which was a little dirt streaked; he had either returned from a patrol or just started one.  "Do you need something, m'lady?"

"Read this," she answered, thrusting the letter at him. His eyes scanned the document and he blanched.

"Already?" he asked.  "I would have though our last battle would have deterred a new incursion for at least another year."

"Apparently not."

Sir Alvin looked up from the letter to Laisha, then to the map.  "What do you intend to do?"

Laisha sighed and sat down. "What we've been doing for the past two years.  Levy as many troops as possible.  I'll see to the rest."

Saluting, Sir Alvin gave her a worried look before leaving the study.  Leaning back, the untested countess looked up at the ceiling for a bit, her mind swimming.  Finally, sitting up again, she grabbed the nearest clean paper and began to write....

Sir Roderick sat astride his old horse, Quentin, as he looked from his hilltop for Lady Laisha.  Many thought it was an odd name for a horse; he agreed, in fact.  He named the horse for an old childhood friend, a boy he thought reliable and destined for great things.  

He smiled bitterly at the memory as he turned to look back at Laisha's new estate.  It was much nicer than the old, run down manor she inherited from the previous owners, long dead from the sacking of the region.  The only concern he had is that its greater size and additional rooms would contribute to his master's tendency to prefer solitude.  He knew she would like her new home, regardless.  A fitting "gift" to return home to after weeks of victorious campaigning.

The sight that greeted him was anything victorious, however.  Only a comparative handful of fighting men were even walking back into the county.  A wagon train extended for miles, passing him by, showing him both the wounded survivors and the spoils of war.  While it was nothing he hadn't seen before, he was taken aback at the apparent devastation that had befallen the army.

Lady Laisha wasn't even at the head of the group, which was instead led by Geoffrey.  He saluted as he passed by.  Roderick had lost track of how many wagons had passed before Laisha surprised him, riding up to him unexpectedly.  Her face was sullen and heavy bags hung under her eyes.

"Wh-what happened out there?" he stammered.

Laisha looked out to the north ruefully.  Snow gleamed on the peaks, filling her with many emotions, few of which she could properly place.  "The barbarians happened."

Roderick stood outside of Laisha's study, unsure of whether or not to disturb her.  It wasn't that he didn't have anything important to tell her; it was simply that he didn't wish to disturb her peace.  She had been reclusive and withdrawn since the Poinsbruk campaign and he knew that meant she generally wasn't looking for company.

Instead, he admired the stonework of her new keep.  Or admired the old, occasionally cracked stones as best he could.  He had, of his own accord primarily, begun to renovate the abandoned keep when they had first moved into the county and Laisha had the renovations accelerated when the news of the horde came.  

It had once been the bastion of the local baron, a paranoid sort, whose fear paid off when the Silvermist Rangers started their war.  The baron had tried to remain neutral in the conflict, but his castle was infiltrated and captured almost bloodlessly by the Silvermist.  It was eventually conquered by the nobles of Pendor as the war swung against the rangers and had lain abandoned since.

Quite suddenly, the door next to Roderick opened, startling him and causing him to drop his cane, which clattered loudly on the stone floor.  Laisha looked down to it and then back up to her old comrade.

"Were you planning on coming in?" she asked tentatively.

"Er, y-yes m'lady."  Roderick stooped over to pick up his cane and followed Laisha in.

"These are dark times, you know...," she began suddenly, apparently not caring whether or not Roderick had come with a purpose, "...considering all we lost up north.  I imagine many people beyond these walls...I imagine that their hearts are broken."

Roderick remained silent and Laisha continued. "I want to you to have Geoffrey take some of the men out and help those of the county as best he can.  I'm sure there are many widows and children whose lives have been shattered by events.  If he can, help them repair homes, build homes, raise crops or livestock...whatever it takes to ease the burden, if only for a little while.

"And...I shall travel as well.  I wish to see to them in my own way.  Words cannot make up for the deaths...but maybe they can soothe the wounds."

Roderick thought to say something, but stopped himself.  Her voice was somber, but determined.  Even if he had an objection, and he might have, he wasn't going to voice it.  He instead nodded firmly and left.