Stanger in Trinity's Land

Waking up is hard to do

The ambush came without warning. A hail of arrows rained down upon our troop, scattering us and sending our horses into a frenzy. I was thrown from my mount, my head spinning and my body aching. As I lay there, dazed and disoriented, I could hear the shouts of battle and the clash of steel.

When I finally regained my senses, I found myself alone, my arm throbbing with pain and a sharp ache pulsing in my head. I quickly assessed my injuries and realized that I had suffered a broken arm and a slight head injury. Using my shirt's sleeve, I fashioned a makeshift sling to support my wounded arm and found a sturdy stick to aid me in walking.

With a heavy heart, I set off into the unknown, my footsteps slow and unsteady. The forest around me seemed to stretch on endlessly, offering no clues as to my whereabouts. Hours turned into what felt like days as I stumbled through the dense undergrowth, my frustration mounting with each passing moment.

Just when I was about to succumb to despair, I heard the sound of approaching hooves. A lone traveler emerged from the forest, his face etched with concern. He stopped his horse and dismounted, approaching me cautiously.

I explained my situation, and the traveler, without a moment's hesitation, offered to help me. He gently placed me on his horse and led us towards the nearest town. When I inquired about the name of the land we were in, he replied enigmatically, "Do not fret about that now."

Although confused by his response, I took him at his word, grateful for his kindness and assistance. As we rode, I observed the traveler, studying his every move. He was a man of few words but carried an air of quiet competence. His eyes were sharp and observant, and his movements were measured and precise.