Scalesword

The afternoon sun beamed through the window, seemingly heating the air as it passed through the slight opening. Ambrosius sluggishly put his arms through the sleeves of his leather vest and took one last look at the sunbeam before he walked to the bucket of fresh water by the front door to wash his face.

"Going to work already?" his younger sister, Maia, said as she handed him his apron.

"Aye," he grabbed the apron and gently pat her head.

"Will you be back for supper?"

"I doubt it, the Jarl is having a big party for his son tonight so I wont be home until sunrise." He gave his sister one last pat before he started his way to town.

"Have a good day!" she called after him. He waved to her without turning back and tried to keep his shoulders from slumping.

Ambrosius walked down the dirt path that lead to the only road in town that would take him away from Wildehollow. He passed by his neighbors and looked upon their small cottages that were so much similar to his own. Most of them were farmers, some worked for the merchants in town, and some didn't work at all. Tall pine trees surrounded the village of peasants, and the whole place stunk of unkept animals. Beyond the woods was the cold shore where most of the people of Wildehollow used to make their money from fishing. But the winter was cruel the last few years, no one on that side of the beach could catch a single fish, leaving most of the people without work or food. Ambrosius walked along the long road until the pines slowly started to dissipate and the smooth ground turned to fine cobblestone.

The town center of Merrishore was bustling with carriages and people in fine clothes. Women walked about with fine jewelry hanging from their necks and wrists, and the men were cloaked with exotic furs and tall tales of how they acquired them. He watched and listened as he walked through town; past the crowded shops, past the beautiful houses, past the sparkling wealthy people that he would never know. The most beautiful of them all was the Jarl's manor, Esterview. Named after the recently passed Queen, the large keep took up most of the north end of Merrishore. Facing the harbor was a tower taller than any building in town, covered in rose vines and decorated with meticulous ironwork. There was a single window at the top of the tower with a dim light struggling to illuminate the room it was in against the ocean breeze.

Surrounding Esterview were statues of fierce dragons looming over the golden gates that circled the building. Ambrosius turned the corner by the main gate and walked down a narrow alley of rose hedges that led to the service entrance.

Steam and the smell of grease greeted him as he opened the service door to the back kitchen. The other kitchen staff greeted him with grunts and subtle nods, he returned their stern looks and tied his apron as quickly as he could. Chef Jorn was busy telling off some delivery boy for bringing the wrong potatoes when he noticed Ambrosius.

"Ambrosius! Get over here, lad!" he shouted over the kitchen noise

"Is something wrong, Jorn? I wasn't late today." Ambrosius approached with his hands behind his back and braced himself for one of the chef's random outbursts that he had forced to become accustomed to.

"No, thats not it. Tonight Jarl Haegar will be having all of the nobles in the south here for his damned son's name day so you better not fuck this up or you're done. You hear me, lad? Done. If anything happens tonight we're all done."

Ambrosius swallowed down his rhetorics and nodded, "Yes, sir."

When he walked back over to the pile of dirty dishes one of the apprentices tugged on his sleeve, "He just gave everyone here the same fucking speech so don't have such a sour face about it," then walked back over to Jorn.