Ok...here is my first attempt. Please note I am always willing to take comments, suggestions and edits. I never take direction as a personal attack. Edits are easy. Changing direction is easy for me. I do have a few questions, but read it first.
Bastard son of the now dead King of Faernia’s cousin. Acknowledged as a distant relative of a dead kingdom Mile is guaranteed nothing. As in most courts there were many bastards. Beside there is nothing to squabble over. But he did manage to bring a very small legion, and he uses the word liberally, to join the Grey Standard. The few that managed to escape are worn, mangled, and are as much a refugee unit as any sort of battle ready ranks.
Miles is in his middle 20’s and had always been the cast off. But desperation has placed him in the uncomfortable position of force reluctant leadership. At present he is caught between seeking advice and pretending confidence. So he headed toward the one he knew would offer control and revenge; General Gergoran Barka. Too bad he was too late.
Appearance: Just a bit shorter than average height at 5 feet 7 inches, Miles trained with the Knights of Faernia known for their skill and craft in the sword play, giving strong arms and broad shoulders. He has the King’s Family eyes of alight soft green. Light brown hair that in court was kept short but since their escape has been neglected. Longer it waves tangled over his collar.
Traits: Skilled with a broadsword, nervous, dramatic, struggles with decisions, compassionate, fueling a ranging revenge
The smell hit him before any other evidence of battle. Smoke wasn’t seen as much as it was inhaled. Miles felt the stench fill his mouth, nose, and filter into his chest. It was too familiar. His small party had spent sleepless night running from the exact same odor. Just when he had begun to believe they had run far enough to get that stink off of them, they walked right into it again.
Heaviness pushed him into his saddle. Fear kept his mouth shut. Before he saw one single body he was almost certain who the victories were. It was that apprehension that caused him to turn his mare to face those behind. He had no need to see another death field. Miles did not want to ride straight into the wrong victors.
With a quick wave of his hand he motioned to Carl. Carl was a young boy but he was quick, silent, and unnoticeable. Miles would not normally send a child in harm’s way. But nothing was normal. It was not as if he had grand fighting knights to choose from. Besides their foes would smell anyone. To Miles’ thinking their enemy cared little of who or why. Like locust that attacked a seeding field there was no thought as to one grain over another. But when Carl stood eagerly in front of him Miles’ resolve faded. How could he send the boy? He looked again over his flock, sheep that followed him because they had nowhere else to turn.
Changing his mind, Miles dismounted handed the reins to Carl. “I will take your horse and you guard mine.” That hadn’t been his plan but then what sort of plan did he ever have. “If I am not back by the time the sun touches the top that ridge,” Miles pointed west. “Take the group back to the stream we just broke from and wait one full day. Then head to Shara.”
Miles didn’t wait for a response from Carl or anyone. He gave a quick pat to Eclipse, all that he really had left from Faernia, and took the boys scrawny mule. With a forceful press of his heels Miles managed to get the damn animal moving but it didn’t take long for him to feel he made yet another mistake. The mule defiantly didn’t want to go anywhere near the foul smell.
Exasperated Miles finally got down and tied the stubborn thing to a dead trunk and made the rest of the trip on foot. From tree to tree he moved cocking his cross bow ready for some dark creature to snarl out at him. But it was quiet, silent in fact. So much so the first bodies scared him and he hide behind a tree getting his breath back. When he turned back around he could see they were humans. Half gnawed, half burnt but still formed enough to know. He stood for a few minutes just looking out over the smoldering remain wondering if anyone survived. Where was General Barka? Surely he retreated with the majority of his forces. Surely?
Questions- Is Shara the city and Belindor the land?
I can have Miles party be very small or just sort of small. How big of group do you see using? Will there be NPC or just the very small band?
I see a forest but is that correct?