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.:Stormclaw's Coming of Age:.

"Wake up"


A blast of cold air hit me and I woke instantly. My blanket had been removed from my previously sleeping form. Eyes focused on my mother, dressed for battle.

"They're coming, you must leave now."

With that she threw my clothes at me. Numb hands forced the clothes on to my body. I dressed quickly knowing speed was of the essence.

A battle roar rent the air. My mother urged my sword and shield in to my hands. She turned to leave her battle stained clothes flowing with her moves. Her hammer in her hand. She gestured to the window.

"Flee. Don't worry, we believe in you."

With a smile she was gone. Pounding down the stairs she was off to aid my father and uncle in battle.

Grabbing my pack I moved over to the window quickly. Taking hold of the windowsill I lowered my self out of the window before dropping the last of the way.

My ankle twisted underneath me. Pain lanced up though my leg, fully clearing my head. However I did not stop moving. Pain or no, I was going.

I looked back. A dark, fey figure swathed in shadows stood over the body of my uncle. My parents were locked in combat with it. Terror shot throughout my body. Despite the pain fear led strength to my young limbs. I fled deep in to the dark night.


I can see the sun beginning to peek over the mountains of my homeland. It is early in the morning and I'm still moving. I've no choice, I need to put plenty of distance between myself and, last night.

The pain from my ankle reminds me that I must stop to bind it. It is swollen and discoloured, this is not a good omen. I must be strong, Bromwyn will lend me strength. I cannot yet heal my self. My training was not that far advanced, I have not yet passed my coming of age ceremony. I do not know if I ever will.

Seasons are changing, the cycle is moving towards winter. Animals are making their final preparations for the long, cold months ahead. I've got not got such luxury. I must keep moving. I must.

It is going to be a long, lonely winter.


Again the chill of the wind has kept me from getting a good nights sleep. I'm surviving. Just. I can't remember when I left, it seems that my whole life has been spent in these woods. Everything before the woods seems to be a blur. Even my family seems but a distant memory.

My body is clothed with many furs of animal that I have caught and trapped over the past days, weeks and months?

Food is scarce and I'm in an inhospitable land. Even us Trolls who live here don't tend to move much during the coldest and darkest months of winter. Unless we need to. And I certainly need to.

If I'm honest the chill winds do not bother me as much as the dank horror of that night, which still resounds throughout the length of my soul. I doubt it will ever truly leave me.

The End


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