Snippet #1303079

Miralda looked briefly at Zhyle before responding to his question. She anwered, "Well, I really can't tell you. I wasn't really allowed to go out into the city. My parents were afraid that the 'common folk' would 'corrupt' me and had me stayed locked up in that miserable mansion to listen to their private tutors on warfare and weaponry and the like. The only useful think I learned from that was that life is never easy, nor is it fair."

What she didn't add was that she had also learned the art of the sword from her Master, the greatest hero to ever live. It was by his experienced hand that she learned to wield her buckler and blade, and she had become more than a small danger during the process. In fact, she already ranked as a fighter on the level of the top knights in the army, and still improving over time. This improvement was inevitable; after all, her goal was to be able to fight on the same level as her Master.

Nearing every second was a group of small buildings on the horizen. Though far at first, the group got closer and closer, and it was just a matter of time before they entered the town. The terrain was still scrubby and sparse, and the village looked like it was in the middle of a harsh drought. She turned to her companions. "Let us find a room at the inn for the night. The sun is about to go down."