[BigJMoney]

I actually have this in MS Word format, which is easier to read. I can post it as an attachment instead, if people prefer.

Month 1 – The Year Of THE HAG

Erkeborn trod quickly the halls of the fathers. A woman, here? That alone was sacrilege, but for her to be further claiming the title of savior of the Ulmish children, the sons of the world was beyond sacrilege. He gathered that her name was Yohlla and that she had been preaching for some time in some villages down the mountain from the Great Keep. She was healing people and telling them that she would lead the sons of Ulm to take the lands of this world that belonged to them. She said she would do this because she was chosen to do it; that there could be no other way.

“Son, why the impatience?” an old voice asked from the front of the hall. Her back was turned, but it was obvious she could hear the echoes of his approaching footsteps. She must have assumed from his pace that he was impatient. Maybe in this case he was, but it was the same pace he set for himself every day for every duty.

“A woman is not permitted to be in the halls of the fathers. It is not a proper thing and, woman, I promise this is not the kind of attention you want for yourself. If you were not so old, I would have sent my guards to drag you out and whip you.”

“Erkeborn,” with back still turned, “what are you doing for your people right now? Are you successfully repelling barbarians? Are you saving food to give it to the poor? Are you teaching the armies of your people how to nurse their great city and fortress, coddling the people, and protecting them from criminals, hm?” The woman turned around, and he could see her face. She was not old. The woman’s voice sounded old, but she was a beautiful young woman. She was also frail like an old woman; she hobbled on a crutch and moved slowly, as if she had very little energy to spare. Yet, she was the most beautiful person he had every laid eyes on; a perfect example of Ulmish womanhood.

Her strange charm worked to disarm the growing anger he felt at her patronizing questions. Still, Erkeborn spoke these words, “These affairs are not yours to discuss! Women do not meddle with the duties of a man, and if you do not leave this hall, I must have you executed.”

“Before I leave, then, let me give you one piece of advice that will bless you. A scout of yours will return one day from the mountains to the south. He will tell you that the wild people of the Iron Range are scattered because they have been fighting with themselves. Do not believe me? Keep your ears open for this scout, personally. Get to him yourself, and you will see that his message has been ignored. This will show you that your officers are not motivated, and they do not care about the achievement of the people. Opportunity surrounds you on all sides Erkeborn, but without help, you and your people will ignore it. In the approaching years of your waxing dominance, you will be happy I have come to you.”

Before she stepped down from the dais, the commander was curious, so he and asked her, “And tell me, woman, what do you ask for in return for all of this? What do you want, and what would you ask of me?

“I ask that you let your people worship me, and when you see that they do, I later ask that you become my prophet.”

Again, her charm prevented him from acting from his own nature; that was, to fly at her with sword drawn and punish her. The two sides of him fought each other as she stepped down and slowly limped down the long hall. Erkeborn hated and loved this young crone.