Chapter 1
Grey clouds overshadowed the skies above Yaomond's head, and the sounds of a Smith's hammer hitting metal grew ever louder in his ears. His gloved hand reached outward and pushed the door open.
The glow of the multiple forges covered the room in a warm orange glow. Many faceless people worked on in the nearly suffocating heat, seemingly oblivious to his presence. But Yaomond's attention was fixed upon a man working furtively in the back of the large room. Although his back was turned, Yaomond could make out a strangeness about this figure. He didn't seem to be like the others. He had a large build, with very square shoulders. The faint shining of something on the table before this man caught Yaomond's interest. He made his way through the maze of men and tools, closing the distance between himself and the large man. The closer Yaomond got, he could feel a strong sense of being drawn towards these shining objects… as if some invisible tether had gotten grasp of him and was pulling him closer. He stopped just before getting within arm's reach of the figure, but the strength of this unseen force was so strong he had to lean back. The Figure turned and at last, Yaomond could see the items on the table. 3 silver rings and one golden ring lay on the table. Yaomond searched the face of the figure that now had turned side-on to him. The golden-red hair fell around blackness, but by this time, Yaomond was fixated upon the mould in the figure's hand. As the mould was slowly opened, Yaomond's head spun as a sudden sense of vertigo threatened to overwhelm him. The metal ring inside the mould shone silver, gold and a mottled black. He saw white light surround each of the rings and now, chanting drowned out the discordant clanging of the forge. But abruptly, the visions shattered as the mould was smashed at his feet.
Darkness, dotted with a haphazard spattering of stars. Yaomond brushed the stubborn blonde hair from his face and noted the sweat, which now coated his tan leather glove. His breathing heavy and his head slowly clearing from the still evident vertigo, Yaomond looked around: the remnants of that night's fire smouldered and glowed amber amongst the blackness of charred wood, his sword and buckler leaned against the nearby tree. "This is getting ridiculous… If the council of Edoras doesn't hear me out, I'm not sure what I'm going to do." He nervously rubbed at his chin. He hadn't shaved for 6 days, and the brittle hair made a loud scratching noise against the creaking leather of his vest collar.
