Wars of the Shaden

I - Rinnie

The sun dawned on another day, lighting the dusty and heat-scorched lands the farmers and families of Weserlin called home. Two small towns of wood and mortar lived within its rolling hills and dry landscape, with sparse in-between them but scraggly crop fields and country homes. In the town farther south, named Ruesand, a family of collie dogs were rising from their slumber to greet the days warmth.

"And don't forget to ask Jameson for any news from the south. Your uncle should be returning for a visit someday soon. I just hope the bandits haven't given his regiment too much trouble this time round." The mother said warmly, as she lay a paw on her son's shoulder. Her fur was the cleanest white and black, the fluff on her cheeks sticking out yet well groomed. It was clear she took good care of her coat. The same could not be said of her son, who was looking eager to escape the confines of the house. He had inherited the black and white of his mother, instead of the grey from his father. The black spots on his muzzle and belly were unique to him, however. Both his hands and feet paws seemed to be in a constant state of dirtiness, despite how much his mother washed him – his fur seemed to attract the dust and dirt of the land.

"Yes mother, I will" He replied wearily. 

"Oh, and one more thing, Rinnie. No more disturbing your father. He needs to focus if he is to keep on top of his rota."

And with that, she opened the door, and Rinnie went racing out. The first thing he did, was take a deep breath of the cool air. The sun beat down with it's never ending heat, yet the breeze from the ocean just a few hundred metres away was always cold and calming. He felt it whistling softly through his fur, causing his black ears to twitch. The day was his, all his. No chores to do until the evening, he didn't have to help his father with his leatherworking, he didn't have to go foraging for berries to accompany dinner, nor scavenge kindling for the fire tonight. It was a rare day when everything had already been done, and he was free to do as he pleased.

The little collie dog began by running his way through the town of Ruesand. Small cosy buildings lined the old cobblestone streets, as the towns folk went about their day. Sirila the bunny sat outside her home, twisting and pulling the roots of some herb into her concoctions, as her long hazel ears drooped down to her small fluffy shoulders. Rinnie could hear Porrick's blacksmith at work further down the street, the rust red bull would be hammering away at iron and steel all day to make tools for the village - his stubby nose and corded muscles illuminated by the orange heat from the furnace. Rinnie saw Lina the old dove on her rocking chair, knitting away at something in her talons. Her brilliant white fur still well kept for her age, but some of the feathers in her wings had fallen, and her beak was turning a dark grey. 

The town was not made up of many buildings and families, yet it was always busy with the comings and goings and activities of those that lived there. Tim the Lynx walked slowly down the street, his cheek fluff red streaked with white. Delbon, who was half deer half wolf, was peering through the butchers window - perhaps his predatory and prey side warred with each other as he eyed the slabs of meat with both lust and trepidation. His clawed paws and long snout looked natural with his large antlered head, despite how unusual it was. All in all, the town was a happy place. A safe place. 

That wasn't what Rinnie had in mind for today though. It was adventure he sought. So, leaving the town behind him, he set out following the old road south. Eventually he'd leave the dusty landscape and find himself in Greenwoods, but that was a few long days journey away, and Rinnie had never been there. Instead his paws took him to the edge of Blackfield. A twisted mess of dead and blackened trees sprawled out before him. If this ever use to be a verdant green forest, it has been gone for many many years, Rinnie thought. The sun itself seemed to be frightened of touching it. Rinnie's mouse friend, Tim, often told stories of ghosts that haunt the forest, from a great war that took place centuries ago. He said they were trapped in the forest by a great sorcerer, as the enemy set the whole thing aflame. It sent a chill down Rinnie's spine, but he had been in the forest before, much to his mother and father's horror. They had often told Rinnie not to enter Blackfield, yet that made it all the more appealing to him. And so with a last deep breath of fresh air, he began to traipse his way into the darkness, paws sinking slightly into the loose earth.