Fire From The Sun
The silver-haired man ran his fingers through his hair. The battle had been hard and he’d lost a few men but rumor was going around that there were immigrants and some disgruntled citizens of LaLongi who were looking for a change. He knew Brother had his own problems and that Northwich might not need the number of people it used to.
“Sure lads,” He said to the two tall young men sitting at the table, “It might do us well to see what is going on down there in LaLongi. We need men to stake claim to the mines in the hills, make lumber from the forests and farm the land. We need some men who aren’t afraid of work to help us. Perhaps we should visit the town again. I have stories of immigrant farmers looking for homes and work. I have heard other strange tales as well but I’ll share those as we go on the way.”
Even though they did not all bear the same name they were all part of the O’Hagan clan and had come far from their home country where they had been displaced by a wicked one who had lied on their patriarch, Turlough; only to have to face him again in the siege. Face him was too strong of a word because as soon as they recognized each other, the vile wretch ran away from Turlough only to return with several hundred minions.
They were easy enough to defeat using their stout cudgels and singing swords, but the clan had lost a good lot of men, overwhelmed by sheer numbers, in the process. They had stood for law and order against chaos but it had cost them.
“Let’s go, Dad.” They all called him that, “The sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll be back.”
“Aye, lads. We be on our way.”
