Experiment #4: In Media Res
Oh the joys of glorious chaos. It all begins with the screams; the high-pitched screams of the women followed by the war cries of those foolish enough to fight. They know they cannot win and he knows how easy it is to slaughter the lot of them and deduce their homes to ash. The village of Morva was bright with flame then gone The thick black smoke of destruction billowed high into the early morning sky still pearly pink by the sun’s shy rays. Rhysand stood amongst the unfolding chaos watching his forces with boredom; victory amongst these lower peasants was much too easy. Grima was diverting his forces to the east to cut off the escaping villagers, what a useless lot they were. Several smaller villages dotted the plains that led up to the temple. It would be his cousin's job to have his troops sack the villages and keep them distracted long enough for Rhysand and his men to get to the temple. Leave Grima to anything, what a leap of faith that would be hopefully the idiot could lead the charge without embarrassing him. These lowlife villages were nothing but cheap pocket change in comparison to whatever treasure lie within that stony temple on the hill. The temple was a tall looming fortress with thick with fog and black smoke; made of thick jutting stone wrapped in ancient runes and towered high with river rock. The temple was dedicated to whatever heathen gods or goddesses the horse riders worshiped but it was an ancient cultural core to their people. Destroying it would cripple the tribe, and weaken them to further attack. It was a perfect for the taking. Upon the stone steps leading to the entrance of the temple stood from the darkened entrance a harsh looking woman with a long willowy frame; the head priestess no doubt. She was dressed it what looked to be a rough brown gown with brass bangles around her bare ankles. Her long dark hair was plaited in a myriad of tiny braids weaved within a headdress of small twisted branches and her piercing eyes stared daggers a headdress of small twisted branches and her piercing eyes stared daggers at the incoming invaders at the foot at her door. The head priestess held out her palms in front of her with a look of anger burning through her green irises. "Stop in the name of the gods! You approach the temple of the godly family Ragrok, Theodywn, Taran and Máire. You dare not come a step further!" She took a step forwards as several other priestesses stood behind her to create a blockade from the entrance. What a nuisance, they were blocking their entrance. "I don’t think your imaginary friends in the heavens will do anything to stop me,” he said to the head priestess with a wicked look upon his face.