Day of the Wolves #3

Sand beneath my feet, crushes until I sink ankle deep into the soft beach. After months at sea, never could I imagine a more beautiful sight than coast. It took all the God’s will to keep me on my boat and not to simply jump off and swim to shore. Our ships are dragged up onto the sand before the men can finally take in the wonder of a new land. I almost fall to my knees and kiss the earth, to thank the Gods for this moment. Men around me do just that as I examine this wild new world. An entire world to explore, the cragged cliffs and strange trees, the oppressive heat beneath my pelts and leather.
It is a home to something, even now I feel eyes watching us from up beyond the cliffs. We make camp at their feet, hoping the fires don’t attract the natives. My legs begin to stiffen, my body regains its balance. I practice my axe-work against my squire, he carries my shield which blunts my blade and so I must sharpen it as the boy sleeps.
The sounds of hooves and horns wakes me in the early morning. The sun is just rising when my squire shakes me from my sleep. He hands me my axe and hoists up my shield. I see why the moment I sit up, dragging myself to my feet with help from my axe.
I had not been correct, but I had not been lying. Before us stood a circling mass of men on horseback, their silver armour finely polished. One of their number dismounts and I venture forth from the ranks of men forming up as a defensive wall.
The man speaks with an effeminate voice, soft men who speak in strange tongues. No amount of silver armour will protect them. I speak to my men, that destiny is ours for the taking. Here we will build our kingdom.

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