The chargers hooves thundered in a steady rhythm across the soft green grass of the hill side to only be contrasted by the fierce baying howls of their pursuers. It was an early morning, the warm rays of the sun touched the terrified features of the lone rider. His normally smooth pale skin, now creased in deeply etched lines of worry. "This is how it shouldn't be!" he thought wildly, "You are not to do this – it is unfathomable!" This soft hands, more accustom to holding quills and delicate crystal wine glasses full of this year's selection of best vintages across land, tightened even harder around reigns. "Oh, to come back with a calouse on my hand, woe I will be the talk of the court" his internal lament continued. Looking quickly over his shoulder, he shouted "Begone misguided ones!" He knew it was a taunt, calling the Tarun misguided, but he was scared, and bit angry.
His name was one of importance. He was Bel'shan of the Weeping Glades, Honored Keeper of the Ruby Seal, Paragon of the Dance, and namely: Chief Advisor Adjunct to the Council of 13th. His long over coat , which was being mercilessly whipped by the wind, was made of the finest fabric, hand stitch by the gifted Pellan artisans. He was proud of his coat for each one of the 105 gem stones, dug from the deepests depths by the strongest of Tarun workers. Each gemstone aligned in a perfect pattern, created a double helix design marking the 105 steps of ascension, had been the talk of his peers for months to come. He relished in its radiance and the carefully place envious glances of the Housecarls. For one of them to be gift such an item would be..unthinkable. For as magnificent his overcoat, his charger – Milamber of the Westgrove, sire of Greste, sire of Vendea, sire of the venerable Adres, was a sight to behold. Standing more than 16 hands high, its snow white coat, contrasted beautifully with its deep blue eyes. Its bridal, enwroght with arcane symbols for surefootedness and safe travels.
Both Bel'shan of the Weeping Glades and Milamber of the Westgrove we not the only ones in this part of the land. For close behind them for, no make that ten Taurn riders closed upon them. The Taurn, short and stalky by nature, strong build, and of moderate intelligence were supposed to be benevolent tenderers of the land. They worked the fields, farmed for food, and mined for valuable ores which they provide to the Breen. The Breen crafters and sculptures and builders would create the most exquisite works of art and dwellings for the Dalerae. The Dalerae, small in number, ruled with great nobility and intelligence, ensuring that the Taurn, the Breen and Dalerae lived in harmony. This is how is was for over thousand cycles and should be for a thousand more.
Should have been.
Rounding a small grassy hill, Bel'shan quickly surveyed the area. The talk snow capped mountains knowned to the Taurn as the teeth of the Earth sat upon crumbled red rock, huwen from the ground by their countless mines. Once the red broken rock thinned out, short stumpy conifer trees jutting out of the ground then a shallow valley of brambles and hill