1
Torin awoke as he always did, several hours before dawn. He relaxed lazily on the hard surface of his light bedroll for a few moments, breathing in the cold morning air with relish. He had always loved the cold mornings of Geigghehemor. For him, chill made every day feel fresh and exciting. He rolled over slowly and scanned the darkness around him, listening carefully to the sounds of early morning. Nothing appeared to be amiss however, so he sat up gingerly and poked at the coals next to with a short oak switch. These coals were all that was left of the blaze from the night before upon which he had roasted the carcass of a freshly killed hare. He knew that with a bit of poking and prodding, he could rekindle the coals into a delightful blaze.
With this in mind, he set aside his deerskin blanket and stood quickly as was his custom. He had gathered wood the night before and had allowed it to dry all night by the warmth of his fire. He placed the wood - piece by calculated piece - on the coals with deftness and grace. Throughout his years living in the wilds of Geigghehemor he had built thousands of such fires and had made it his habit to stack the wood in the shape of a box so as to allow the fire to receive life giving oxygen from every direction.
When this morning ritual had been completed and Torin was once more able to warm his chilled body by the heat of the blaze, he set to the task of fixing himself tea (another daily ritual) made of local herbs and spices. First, he set his cast iron pot full of water atop the heat of the fire. He had procured the water the night before from a small, babbling brook near by and it gave him great pleasure to watch it bubble slowly as the fire transferred its heat into the warming liquid. When the water had begun to agitate with real earnest, Torin dropped in his favorite flowers and spices. First, he added Danddygold for a hint of sweet, then he added lilac for tang, and finally a bit of savory cinnamon and turmeric to bring the flavors of the two flowers together. It was Torin's favorite recipe. He had learned it from the alchemist back in his home town. He drank the tea every morning and was pleased by both the flavor as well as the health benefits it appeared to imbue him with. Comforted by the chill of the morning and the heat of the fire, he watched with delight as the colors of the flowers mixed together in the turning of the bubbling liquid.
Then, there was a loud snapping sound in the dark forest to the right of Torin. Instinctively, his cold, clear eyes darted in the direction of the sound and his hand move automatically to the double edged hunting knife that rested around his tawny waist...
