Copyright 2013 Robert Taylor
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The rich black of night draped over the deep woods. A mist crept through the trees. The noiseless forest was damp. Along an unmarked path, a traveler moved with stealth and speed. The figure breathed softly, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he hurried. The laughter of drunken souls emerged out of the mist. In the distance, he spotted the light of a lantern through the dense brush. He directed his course toward the light.
The lantern hung on a post at the side of a road leading into the small trade city of Kanaris. Opposite the lantern stood a log building nestled deep in the trees. As the traveler approached he heard a new burst of laughter from within the log building. The sign over the tavern door pictured mug heavy with ale. The traveler moved to the tavern entrance. The man flung his brown leather cloak aside, revealing a vest of shining black chain mail. He drew an ebony crystalline saber from its scabbord. With a single kick, the tavern door flew open. Several drunken locals sat at the bar and tables. All but one looked over at the sudden entrance. The traveler's eyes focused in one the one man that didn't look over; a tall man with green eyes. He sat alone at a table in the corner. The traveler's heavy steps echoed in the stuffy room. The green eyed man didn’t look up.