Sagas of the Radiant Age
The price of 1,000 years of peace...
“Papa,” questions a little girl. “Are we moving again?” An older man replies with a tired smile, “That’s right my dear! And do you remember why?” He turns from her to hide a grim face as he pulls out garmets from an old dust wardrobe. With a naive smile she exclaims, “’Cause the cows have a-” “It’s because we came to late,” he interrupts in a stirn voice, stuffing the last of their belongings into an old chest. An awkward silence fills the room as Alexander takes a deep breath to regain composure. With a veil of happiness returned to his face, he recites like clockwork, “We are too late hunny. All the land was taken up! We’re going to a better place now!” “But, this was s’pposed to be better papa,” she replies as she plops to the floor almost in tears. “Oh, Suzannah, don’t cry!” Alexander turns from his stuffed chest to crouch in front of his daughter. “How’s about this: We will go aaaaaall the way to the sea!” He puts his rough hands on her messy blonde hair. “And you can go to school!” “Really daddy? Really?” she exclaims. Her eyes light back up as if all notions ofsadness leave her. “Yeah really,” the man stands up, walks to his chest, and closes it with a resounding “Clank.” Alexander opens the front door of their old wooden shanty, walking out with chest in one hand, his daughter in the other. Their hopeful mood shifting abruptly as the wafting smell of rot and decay fill the dusty air. They hastily aboard an waiting cariage and put Eastmarch behind them.