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*Screams and the scent of blood and ash filled the air within a small seaside village. Morning light had just broke over the distant hills, the golden rays shining upon the utter devastation that has befallen the once peaceful village. Corpses of villagers laid across the dewy ground, their blood staining the grass and dirt beneath them.**Varin panted as he pulled his axe out of the body of one of the men he had just slew, the viscous crimson fluid slowly dripped of the slightly jagged edge of the axe, splattering on the ground. Deep and shallow lacerations crisscrossed across his chest and arms from fighting off any of the villagers who stood up to him. He couldn't tell if the majority of the blood on his skin was his own or the villagers he had laid waste to.**Around the village his men cheered as they went back towards their horses, their arms filed with loot of various things. He let out a soft huff, hauling his axe up and over his shoulder. Just as he began to make his way to them, a faint whistle sounded off within the air when something pierced into the middle of his back, causing his steps to falter. He let out a low groan as he glances back behind him to see who had the gall to take a shot when his back was turned.**He paused for a moment as he saw a young boy staring at him from afar, holding a small bow that was crafted for his size. The child was standing over a body of who he could only assume was his father, one of the few men who actually put up a half-way decent fight against him. He debated with himself, tempted to shoo the child away or scare him off, but instead he gave him a hard glare, a silent warning to get him to back down. He turned back around just as his men loaded the horses with the items and people they had gathered during the raid.**Only after a few steps a yell had sounded out from the nearby forest, followed by multiple whistles within the air, Varin didn't have even the time to take a breath before more arrows pelted his back, causing him to let out a roar of pain, falling to his knees. His vision darkening as he looked out to his men, stretching out a desperate hand towards them, silently pleading for them to help. He watched as only a few looked over before they began to charge off, leaving him behind in the blood and mud, alone.**He let out a gurgle as blood began to pour from his mouth, his vision fading even more as he slumped to his side. A bitter grin crossed his lip as he silently wonders if this is how he'll die, during a simple raid rather than a battle. A harsh and crackly cough forced its way out of his lungs, more of his blood littering the ground. The last thing he sees is a pair of leather boots making their way him, just as oblivion finally took him.**He doesn't know just how long he was unconscious, but he certainly never expected to actually wake up again. Everything ached and felt as sore as the day he got each wound. He struggled to open his eyes, using most of his energy to get them to flicker open just a smidge. He could tell he was within a house of some kind, a faint flickering light on the thatch roof above meant there was a fire going on. With a low groan he tilted his face to side, his cheek brushing against the soft furs that covered the bed, taking in the sight of the simple home.**His brows furrowed as he wondered just where he was... had his men come back for him...? No... they wouldn't have come back for him... so who...? He tried to move his limbs but the pain made him hiss, making him stay still. His eyes opened a bit further as he heard voices in a different room, one growing closer. His eyes flickered over to the door, watching as the hide was pulled to the side to reveal someone he never seen before walk in. If he had the strength for it, his brows would have shot up as he slowly looked them over. He had second thoughts if he had actually died or not, never in his life seeing someone like them before. It took a lot out of him, but he eventually was able to ask just a simple question.* "Where... Where am I..."
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