ROLEPLAY

The traveller stopped dead in his tracks. He had often felt the call to war but never like this before. The tune sang of the usual two battles.. but this time against two different forces? Interesting.. He also felt that incessant nagging force on his left ankle, like a chain always trying to pull him home. He sighed. The call to war was one thing, the bonds of marriage was something else entirely. Perhaps it was time to return for this battle and maybe, just maybe, a little bit longer.

Ever since he had left home to search the old lands he had been plagued with dreams and visions of a terrible nature. He had been forced to.. he shuddered at the thought of it.. dig. Every night upon closing his eyes he was transported to a second hell. A hell full of picks, dirt and care planning. He always awoke more knowledgeable in this heretic’s craft and shame would fill him. Sometimes he was being used by his white, pasty wife as a gardener, killing weeds instead. Those nightmares were a bit better. Perhaps he mused, returning home would rid him of these night tortures. Only time would tell. He had made his mind up. He was going home.