The emptyness

For those who feared locking up their valuables, hiding their treasure or expecting sadistic painful experiences, rejoice! But only ignorants make up the local population I suppose.

She watched the last of the hunting party to leave the village. It would take quite some time for them to return with anything, so the time was ripe.
With the following days of quietness Ansea recovered from previous events, and prepared in silence.

Now most of the inhabitants were gone, she went forth and laboured hard during the day. When all was done, she packed herself up warmly, with ample provisions, and dissapeared out of sight.

A surprise awaited the priest Marcuis when he'd return back home, for the doorsteps would be barred with a large crate filled with durable edible substances. Down the stairs leading to Numi's abode, two crates filled to the brim with consumables rested against the wall. At Nohmi's door, in all discretion a crate with the same content stood before the porch, and on it a pile of pots, plates, herb urns, spoons and other cooking furniture. Against the smithy's door a maul rested on a bunch of beartraps, and on the stairs a neatly stacked heap of logs was piled.

If Tombstone was prey to woe and unluck, it wouldn't be this day for sure.
Shattered remains of the keep gate still were strewn across the entrance, black and broken. Inside the keep light shined dimly through broken up windows and slits. Coldness blew through the keep, and the remaining door creaked as it kept being bumped by the wind. In the great hall, a scorched mass still fumed, containing burned furs, bones, animal heads and a pair of bodies, yet there was no expected stench, but a fragrant aroma of spring and summer herbs.

There is still a way to go...
A hand clutching itself around another, seeking comfort.