Snippet #1933786

Asborjn Thorvard paced back and forth in his chambers, working himself in to a sweat despite his wooden shutters being wide open. He had full intentions of leaving when he had opened them but had hesitated and he could not figure out why. Was he scared of the possible truth? Just thinking about it made his leg throb even more and Asborjn was forced to stop pacing to reach down and rub rigorously at the throbbing muscle.

Standing back up, he caught sight of another scar, an older scar. When he was still just a boy he had convinced his father to let him learn how to ride a horse. He turned out to be clumsy on the otherwise graceful beast, jarred by every sharp movement despite his exceptional weight. The very last time he rode a horse he had lost hold of the reins when the animal suddenly bucked forward. He stopped himself from landing on his head but earned a scar from his elbow to his wrist for the effort.

Now he had a new scar but one he could not show and associated with no tale he would tell in the tavern. The only thing this new scar gave him was a possible curse. A life as half-man, half-animal… a monster.

The very thought of it had Asborjn rushing at the window as if he meant to leap out but instead, he stopped and embraced a cold breeze, bathing in it like a dog in the sun. Opening his eyes, Asborjn caught sight of a dozen or more torches moving through the streets and took that as his sign. The magistrate’s son rushed in to his closet and produced a long yet dull cloak that he rarely wore in town.

Pulling the hood down, the young man jumped on to his windowsill and looked down upon the streets of Wulfhaven. He always loved the freedom the roofs of the city gave him on those occasions he could manage to get out. The sight of a few of his father’s own workers rushing out of the house to join the forming mob only reassured him that he would easily make it to the town hall without being recognized.

The night was young and even the throbbing in his leg did not hinder Asborjn from nimbly picking his way down from his window and in to the streets.

Asborjn’s slinking through the alleys quickly turned in to sprinting through the streets. By now, there was no one out that was not heading the same place he was and it was easy enough to blend in among the brandished torches and shovels. As the crowd began to gather in to a larger mob outside of the town hall doors though, Asborjn took a different, albeit longer path.

When he made it to the back door he unlocked it with the key he took from his father’s dresser. By the time he made it to the hallway his father had walked down earlier, all of the guards had moved further out to help contain the restless crowd. When he reached the door though it was locked and so he started pounding on it with his fists.
“Father! Father, open the door!”