Bane's blog: "please don't steal "

She stood beside the tavern, her hair draping around her face and shoulders, her form wrapped in a black corset and a set of long dirty skirts. She was to be meeting someone here. The right side of her face covered in the angry red scar from her past, it stretched from her eye down her cheek and along her neck. It was part of the reason she left her hair down all the time. The long mane of auburn hair reaching down past her hips woven into the long strands was the freshest of local flowers. Something she got up and collected every morning without fail. Her bare feet wiggled into the dirt as she leaned against the building and waited. She had eaten a burnt potato for breakfast, as it was all she could afford. There was supposed to be news from the battle field today. It was the only reason she had stayed at the tavern that night. She had picked up a tending job as all the men had been recruited to help the king. Even the keeper of the Tavern had left they were a village of old men, women and young children. Every once in a while a wounded man would return, but none ever stayed long. She was desperate for information on the "boys" she had grown up with, they were her best friends and as close to her as brothers. The only ones who had seen her as nothing but a frightened child when she had been dropped in front of the village church with the fresh burn on her face. It had been nine years since that fateful day. She was a young woman now, old enough to be married and even have children of her own. The scar had chased away many potential suitors, and she was content for now to be alone. She took a deep breath as the wind battered at her from the east, the crisp smell of the salt water hit her nose and she could not help but smile. The boats would go out today and hopefully they would have better luck then the last few weeks. Everyone was starting to worry what with winter fast approaching, there was not enough food to keep them through the winter, and everyone knew it. She tilted her had back and closed her eyes, letting the rays of the sun warm her face for a few moments before she decided to walk around the village, there was no point in standing next to the tavern all day waiting for a messenger. He had not shown up for several weeks, no news of the war, of loved ones... nothing. Her silent plea to her "heathen" gods, for the lives of those that were cared for by the village. Her fingers reaching out to her sides as she stepped into one of the grain fields. Fingers brushing over the long stalks of wheat as she headed for the cliffs on the other side of the fields. She stopped at the edge of the field, before she stepped through the long sea grasses to stand on the side of the cliffs, watching the surf slam against the rocks. As the wind came up off the sea and over the edge of the cliff it pulled the hair away from her face and her neck, causing it to billow out behind her. She loved being beside the sea, it was comforting knowing she was living so close to the cusp of a world where men had no control over anything.