The Commoner

Years. It has been several of them since the notable Raevir coal mining man disappeared. He had recently came back from the first (and last) battle of the Orenian-Urguanian war. He was once more home in Kralta, and was once more departing on his monthly mining trips to the coal mine nearest the Nation's Crossing. He kissed Lynthia goodbye, he said his farewells to the folk such as Bogdanistan, and made his way off. The air had an odd chill to it that day he departed, and the winter months of Anthos were beginning to settle in. He wrapped his lightly colored jacket around himself and pushed on, through the lands of Kaedrin, once home to the White Rose. He still remembered the departure of much of those members of the previously said guild, as well as the departure of Emperor Horen. It left a bitter taste in his mouth predicting the Empire would fall in months, but he hoped for the best. Without the White Rose and the leader, Emperor Horen, he felt doomed. He had no one to help but himself and Kralta. NATO was in shambles. The Blackmonts, his friends and allies, were revolting against the Empire. Hunwald knew he always thought to much on trips, and those thoughts led him much past Salvus and the Nation's Crossing. Only then had he noticed that a large amount of snow was falling. He had no idea that he had traveled into the Dwarven lands, and had no idea what to do. He did not remember the way which he came, and could not see a thing. A chill was sent up his spine as he felt as if he was being watched. He lit the top of his travelling torch with spare flint and steel, and examined his surroundings. To his dismay, he saw exactly what he had previously felt. He was indeed being watched, by a Dwarf to be exact. Hunwald could not make out the face of the Dwarf, but he did indeed know the Dwarf was armored. "Privej." Hunwald greeted the Dwarf who he could barely make out. Silence was all that emitted from the Dwarf, and Hunwald was given no reply. Hunwald growled softly and reached for the hilt of his iron sword, the Sariant Slayer. Hunwald tugged and tugged, by the sword would not be unsheathed this moment. It was frozen, and Hunwald was defenseless. Hunwald always thought he knew what to do in situations like these; however, there was one problem. He had never actually be involved in one. How is one supposed to be prepared for banditry or fighting when the only bandits that he ever knew was his friends? He had only one choice, and that was to run. Hopefully to run in the right direction, that is. And so he ran, he bolted, he sprinted. He ran for his life. His footsteps were hard on the icy and stone cobbled ground of the road, which he could make out just barely. He followed the road and followed the road, thoughts and prayers racing through his mind. He would not die today, he thought. He could not die now, especially with Kralta almost defenseless. He continued running for almost half-an-hour, before finally coming to a stop. He was not where he planned to be. He was lost - lost once more. Fortunately, Hunwald's Dwarven adversary was no where in sight. There was another problem, however - Hunwald was freezing. There was not a single shelter in sight, and his torch was long-dead. The blinding reflection of light from the snow fall began to make his eyes hurt, and he was forced to squint. Finally, Hunwald had found shelter. A small cave, which was gray and empty. There was no snow-fall here, but it was just as cold. He used his trust flint and steel for light and guided himself into the cave. He came to a stop some ten to twenty feet from the entrance of the cave and backed himself into a corner. He laid the flint and steel down, and sat. He stared through the cave entrance and out into the white abyss that was the blizzard he had only just raced through. He stared into the light, his eyes ached. He could not stop staring into the light, but finally, the light faded. All that was seen by him now was darkness, and that darkness was death. An icy death was what came for the middle-aged coal miner, and that icy death did take him. Years. It has been several of them since the notable Raevir coal miner had passed, alone in the cave during that blizzard. After months and months, perhaps years and years, Hunwald was finally found. While raiding the Dwarves during the new war, Bogdanistan had found him in the same cave he died, years and years past. The holy man and once great friend of Hunwald's called for some several strelesy to return him to Kralta, and that is what they did. They sheathed their swords and threw away their maces, intent of making Hunwald's final journey not to the coal mine - but to the home. The several strelesy and Bogdanistan dug a grave in Rosemoor, the past home of the great White Rose order. Only those several strelesy and Bogdanistan were to bury and give Hunwald a burial, but that is all that he would have requested. He was buried with an iron pickaxe, a piece of coal ore, and his cap. R.I.P. HUNWALD COALMEIN