Wow. It’s getting close to time for Veil of Shadows, huh?
Time to start spamming blogland (or my little corner of it) with random snippets.
The first time she saw the man, Laisyn Caar knew he was going to be trouble.
Syn really, really didn’t have the time for it or the inclination to deal with it. Not that fate obviously gave a damn.
Like a lot of the refugees they’d taken in over the years, he wore threadbare clothes and he carried little in the way of material goods. A lot of the refugees arrived on the base-camp on solar-powered glide-carts or riding a baern. The big pack beasts could carry two people easy and they were somewhat protective of their owners and they proved to be very handy guard-animals.
This man was on foot. He had a pack strapped to his back and enough weaponry to have her eyebrows going up.
All those weapons, it was the first thing that set him apart.
Even though he was surrounded by other refugees, he looked to be traveling alone—that was the second thing that set him apart.
It wasn’t wise to go anywhere alone. Not here. Not even now that the Gate was out of commission. They no longer had to worry about raids from Anqar but it was far from safe in their devastated pocket of the world. Demons ran amok in the heavy forests covering the valleys at the base of the Roinan Mountains. There were still Warlords, as well, those who had been in Ishtan when the Gate collapsed. Syn suspected those Warlords weren’t too damn happy about being trapped in a primitive, inferior world, good only for the slaves it provided for them.
Going anywhere alone was a bad, bad idea.
But there he was—a lone, rather wild looking wolf amid a bunch of scared and nervous sheep.