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Week 5 Story: Promila the Bold
"Grandmother, tell me a story!" The winter sun sunk beneath the horizon as the ship approached. The village was cold for that time of year, and several fires burned although the night was not yet full. Soldiers and townfolk lounged alike, casting dice together while others ate and drank the chill away from their bones. The army had occupied this territory for nearly two years, and the enmity between the villagers and the soliders had mostly evaporated this far from the capitol. The troops had grown comfortable and soft; this was why they died so quickly. Her ship was silent and grey, difficult to make out against the coastline. The only sound before the attack was the screaming of a banshee in the wind. "Now, for Lanka and my Lord!" Armored figures poured from the boat; the attack was over in minutes. Soldiers half-drunk and freezing were chopped down by angry, screaming women swarming across the town. The women returned to the boat. The ...
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