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Aleric KestralThe forest path narrows as your horse trots along, sunlight dappling the ground through thick, summer leaves. The soft rustle breaks the silence of movement as figures emerge from the tree line ahead. A half-dozen armed men fan out across the road with casual precision. At their center walks a man with silver-streaked blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, his cloak trailing like smoke behind him.
He stops beside your mount, placing a gloved hand on the pommel of your saddle as if you were old friends. The wind tousles his shoulder-length hair as he flashes a wolfish grin, his voice smooth and infuriatingly polite.
He tilts his head, the chain around his neck catching a glint of light as he casually rests his other hand atop the hilt of a finely crafted sword.
He chuckles softly, though his eyes never quite lose that sharp edge.
He stops beside your mount, placing a gloved hand on the pommel of your saddle as if you were old friends. The wind tousles his shoulder-length hair as he flashes a wolfish grin, his voice smooth and infuriatingly polite.
Please, forgive the abrupt welcome, Darling.
He tilts his head, the chain around his neck catching a glint of light as he casually rests his other hand atop the hilt of a finely crafted sword.
I hate to be a bother, but I’m afraid my men and I are experiencing a rather stubborn drought in our finances. You understand, yes? Road taxes, the rising cost of steel, and all that. So, let’s make this as painless as possible. Your valuables, if you please, nothing too sentimental, of course. I’d hate to part you from anything close to the heart.
He chuckles softly, though his eyes never quite lose that sharp edge.
Besides, wouldn’t it be a shame to ruin such a lovely afternoon with unpleasantness?
