While the City of Frantoch was filled with both tension and relaxation after surviving the first siege, the rising moon lit up the night across the entire region.
Not even two days away from the city, a small tent had finally been put up.
A man sat on a boulder there among the rocky hills. Dirt covered his hands and clothes. But his shovel was now set aside after finding what he was looking for.
Ten bromes from the sitting man, two simple tombstones had been dug up. There had been no attempts to dig further or deeper either.
In front of the man, there was an enormous bonfire. The woodpile alone was nearly two bromes tall and over a brome wide. And under that woodpile, there was already a small mountain of coals left behind from the first bonfire.
Bil stared into the coals with what many would think was a blank stare.
But only the rare few would know that his tears were evaporating before they could even fall from his eyelids.
