[ IP ] Unsheathed

The battle had not gone well. 
 
 King Lochvelt had been slain, his body taken by the bloody Ruvinians. Most of his army was scattered, dead, or captured. The Ruvinians had taken them completely by surprise. Lochvelt was a fool, picking a fight with them. Ruvinia, the great continent across the sea, with its shining cities, and expansive territory. And it's fearsome military. Many Kings before Lochvelt had found an uneasy peace with their gargantuan neighbor, but Lochvelt was different. He became paranoid, and persuaded his generals that Ruvinia was a threat to them. 
 
 Now, deep in their territory, Katherine felt nothing but despair. Back home, in Angloris, the queen would pay the price of her husband's madness. Everyone would see how she dealt with a full-scale invasion from the sea. They would see if the people trusted her, or demanded that one of the surviving generals take over. But Katherine knew the surviving generals were cowards and misers. Nothing would stop them from destroying Katherine's homeland. 
 
 She crouched in the foliage and wept. Night was falling fast, and the enemy had cleared out. She had done what she could as a spy for her commander, country, and king, but in the end Lochvelt's stupidity had doomed everything. She got to her feet, and briefly considered heading towards the nearest village, but that was Gaffersbrook. Too big. No, better to find a much smaller town, where she could discreetly buy clothes to fit in with other Ruvinian women. Her lifetime of sneaking, and espionage paid off, as she headed into the dense thicket, knowing what had to be done so she could return home. She would hopefully be in time to rescue her family, if she made good pace. 
 
 Just then, she tripped and stumbled down a short slope that sent her sprawling into a huge clump of bushes and vines. She managed to draw a pocket knife and cut the vines, and then realized the bushes were hollow. Some animal had made this its home, and ended up abandoning it. It was quite cozy, and she stopped for a moment to catch her breath. Then, she saw something which made her pause. Lying on the ground was a sword, with a silver hilt, and black scabbard. She immediately recognized it, from the brief time she had seen the king in battle. It was Lochvelt's sword, the blade of Angloris. Fascinated, she drew it partially out, seeing the soft reflection of the sparse light. It was a beautiful weapon, and must have been thrown here as the king was taken away. 
 
 She was glad she had found the weapon. She would be rewarded, for it was a national treasure. The last relic of a fool king. But the thought made her head hang: she could n't take this sword anywhere. Anyone in Ruvinia would name it the fallen sword, of that foolish king of Angloris. She let it slip from her grasp, solemnly laying it deep in the bushes, hoping no one ever found it. Maybe someday she would return, and bring it back again. To take it now would be a symbol of foolishness. 
 
 *A fool sword, * she thought, *for a fool king. *
