A song of Ice and Dice

The sun crept slowly up from the horizon, its autumn rays cresting first the sloping hills around Salzenmund, then the city walls. As it rose, the light climbed over the buildings in the square opposite the Witch Hunters guild, falling in through a window on the second floor, where it hit Viktors sleeping face, which began to twitch. As the glaring light continued its work, his eyes fluttered open. It was early, many hours yet until the bells of the great churches would start ringing the worshippers in to mass. Viktor liked waking early. In fact, he’d placed his bed specifically so the morning sun would wake him at this hour. As he stretched, his eyes drifted across the room, taking in Eleanor, hanging from her scabbard by a hook on the wall, and the polished armour draped on the stand in the corner. Tools of the trade. But not the trade he’d be doing today, he thought with a smile. No, not today. Wearing just some serviceable, rough workman’s clothes, with a small pack slung acros...