Just to tell you all this is a work in proggress so constructive critiscm is welcome.
The stench of battle hung over the fields like the hanging of a thief, blood ran into the stream and the pyres of the burning dead choked the air.
The battle of Mynar was won, but at a price. One Elf crouched down by one of the pyres, smoking his pipe. Muttering a few words of rest and peace he doused the fires and started looking through the pockets of the dead.
“What use is coin when it’s in the palms of a dead man?” His father had once asked him; well at least now he knew. Useless it was, and he knew it damn well.
“Aerin, where are you? Aerin!” shouted a voice from not too far away.
He quickly stepped off of the mountain of corpses and picked up his bow and quiver.
“I’m over here Korvald! What do you need?” Aerin replied somewhat cheerfully.
Korvald Starthbard was the First Lieutenant of a Troop of Men from West Ien and had hired Aerin from a tavern south of the Area. Although he himself was from far North, his loyalty to the Western Consortium was undying.