The sunlight breaks the horizon, and yawns through the alabaster tinted window of a hand hewn log structure, nestled near a great wood overlooking a rolling meadow glistened with tears of dew. From inside the cabin the silence is broken with the sultry mutters of a stunning beauty.
"Sleep well, my darling?", she asks.
The man rises to an almost upright position. His body, though not aged past his mid years, bear the scars and pains of many battles against man, creature and myth. Newly awakened his eyes slowly come into focus to gaze upon the the lovely that he calls wife. She stands over him with her long black hair giving off a blue like sheen from the morning light, and gently brushing across his barreled chest. She shrills and giggles as he grabs her swiftly and effortlessly, yet ever so gently, and brings her across his body to lay rest at his side.
"Sleep well? After the events you bestowed upon me last eve? I should say it bares to reason I was able to be revived at all, considering the coma like state I was reduced to.", he said.
"Oh Nordoux, you're always such the jester.", she said.
"The jester of your court, my queen Sonoura.", he said.
The atmosphere of the small cabin is filled with the aroma of cooked ham and roasted nut brew that Sonoura has prepared just prior to the awakening of her now somewhat docile lord of war. After the morning meal Nordoux gears up with light leather garb, a small hunting knife, and a not so impressive bow that he constructed from yew and sinew.
Sonoura: I'm glad you let me talk you into moving to the countryside. I find it very tranquil and private where one can do as they please without the outside influences of others.
Nordoux: Tranquil...indeed. If these hunts don't start producing more food we will be forced to return to the city. Among the...influential others.
Sonoura: Now, now darling. I'm sure you will be more than successful in producing enough meat for us.
Nordoux: It seems that for every boar I harvest, two are taken by those damn Earthwolves. What happens when the herds are thinned to the point that they start looking closer to home to satisfy their ravaging hunger, and I'm not here to mount a defense?
Sonoura: You know perfectly well that I can protect myself!
Nordoux: Wielding a spatula and an iron skillet is hardly a means of fending off a pack of Earthwolves.
Sonoura: Don't be coy with me Oh bringer of death. For I need not weapons to yield destruction of my own!
Nordoux: You swore an oath to your dying father that you would not invoke the presence of that horrid evil again! The same type of evil that took the lives of hundreds of my men. Were not for the Sword Of Sapian...
Sonoura: You can STOP right there. That sword possessed a power greater than anything I could conjure up. It took over your mind, body and soul to the point where one couldn't see if there was any man left in there at all. I'm glad you're rid of that godforsaken thing.
Nordoux: Rid!? You mean lost...stolen by thieving...
Sonoura: I MEAN RID!!
Feeling his temper starting to reach unprecedented yet not entirely unfamiliar levels. Nordoux storms from the cabin to vent his anger on wild boar or anything else that may fall prey to his makeshift bow or hunting knife that is but a small sewing needle by comparison to the mighty Sword of Sapian, still etched in his memory.
