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Chapter 90: Profit
Last Updated:
2021-09-05 20:33:23I
The morning sun shinned bright in the first days of winter, giving a false feeling of warmth. Herbog walked up the creaking, dried oaken steps. He stopped, looked at the guards on the palisade. The guard turned to left, continued down the palisade. Herbog looked up at the sigil of House Aswar, a proud lion danced on the light breeze. He wondered was it a good omen or a bad one, he wasn't very religious, most problems he resolved with the sword, if you could call that large piece of steel a sword. The soldier waited for him to get up, Herbog turned towards the show-covered field; it will be a harsh winter, it always was and will be, ever since the new king came.
"I don't like it," the guard said while covering his face with mask that hung lowered to his chest.
"Neither do I," Herbog replied.
The man turned, "always the same blasted weather."
"It could be worse."
"True, but still it's blasted."
"I know."
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