Snippet #1234021

Most people of the marketplace had retreated back into their shops leaving the marketplace desolate. The silence was strong enough to the point where the guards at the far off castle could be heard. Almost every day of the year the marketplace was ripe with noise, however on this day the life of the marketplace had become sick. Every sign upon the wooden doors of the shops had been flipped to the red words stating "Closed".

Standing amongst the hay near the stables of the horse merchant, Rethyn's blood red eyes remained fixated upon the destruction of the castle. From his view, he could still see many guards in formation patrolling around the castle as the initial chaos of the attack seemed to die down. Not too far off from them, Rethyn could see the dead and wounded being carried off in large wooden carts to either morgues or perhaps medics. Didn't matter, damage was still damage.

Feeling as if he were unfrozen, Rethyn turned back towards his shop and moved towards it with faint steps. The Captain of the guards would most likely wish to call a curfew tonight. Locking everything down until the hysteria died down a little. This however was just a guess from a simple Herbalist.

Stopping at his door, Rethyn's eyes widened. His eyes had caught the red letter sticking out of his doors black mail slot. The red letter was always something most shop keepers feared within the marketplace. It had to do with debt, and Rethyn's father had left him with plenty. Forcing air out to prevent himself from suffocating, Rethyn with a shaking right hand pulled upon his shop's door. Opening only a small width, Rethyn slid inside and shut the door quickly and with a loud bang.