Brgthng 4, Cycle 1, Month of Kalendryas, in the Season of Winter,
Era I of the Celestine Mandate,
Era XV Post Fractum
Old Joe was sitting on the back porch of his home repairing an old fishing net that used to be his favorite. He held the needle and net so close to his face that several times it looked like he was going to put his own eye out with the dang thing. He didn't though and that needle had already been through that net so many times that saying he was in a rhythm and incapable of injuring himself was an understatement. He was really good at what he does.
The sun had just went down below the tree line but was still a good half a candlemark before the sun would set. This made the light really faded and did not help Old Joe in finishing his net repairs. Looking to his left then right, he look bewildered.
"Now where did I put that darn lantern?" he said laying his net and needle down. "Can't see worth a spit anymore."
He looked around until he saw the lantern sitting along side a pile of wood he had stacked beside his house. "There you are. Now come here..."
Picking up the old lantern and patting his pockets for a flint, he finally produced some and in no time got the lantern lit. Holding it up to about eye level, Old Joe turned around to face back where he was sitting with his net when something caught his attention out of his right peripheral sight. Looking over in that direction, he had to lower the lantern a bit to see more clearly. About 50 yards away across a field and just in front of the tree line, he spotted something. Several shadows. It seemed like 20 or so but they were too far away for him to make out who or what they were exactly.
"Oh shoot. Not those darn Paisely boys playin' in my field again? I'll teach them!"
Old Joe went into his house and came out onto his porch. The figures had moved closer and were now in the middle of his field. He was still counting about 20 of them. Surely this wasn't the Paisley boys Old Joe was thinking. Joe had picked up his shortsword from inside the house. It was a pathetic old rusted thing that Joe wasn't even sure if it was sharp or not.
"Hey you kids! Is that the Paisley boys with you?" he shouted toward the figures still advancing on his house. There was no response.
As they got closer, the old man was finally able to see some details. They were not boys and some looked to be injured. "Now what the....?"
Old Joe was at a loss for words. The people began to arrive at his house. They were bloody, dirty, and tired. Some fell to their knees crying while others just fell to the ground flat and did not move after that. Some were leaning on others in support.
What had happened didn't look good. Old Joe turned and ran not to the people but toward town center to tell everyone what he had just witnessed.