Jaen sat cross-legged inside the tent, his dagger firmly in his belt. He touched it and it reminded him of his father. Jaen was much like his father. They both had wild, long dark black hair and they both had light coloured skin. They were both fast and both nimble. They both had blue, shining eyes. Jaen always loved his father, and when his mother passed away they became closer. They would hunt together, train together, fish together... they would do everything together. That is, until that day. The day Jaen's father dissapeared. Jaen had gone looking for him, but he never found him. Jaen had searched in their hut for something to give him a clue as to where he had gone, but there was nothing. Nothing but a dagger with a note - 'I will always love you Jaen. Take this if I don't come back.'.
As Jaen was thinking, he heard the scream. It came from the forest to the east. Jaen jumped to his feet. The Guards had taken another victim. Jaen opened the tent. If he could hear the scream, it was close. It was time to move camp.
Taw ran, his long, blonde hair moving wildly. He was going to be late for work if he didn't hurry up, and he needed some more flax to tie up his hair before he got there. Taw was thirteen and three quarters and he worked at the saw mill in Avalia, a small town in K'aav. His parents were dead - they had both died of exhaustion because of Chaliv and his Guards' working hours. Taw hated them. He hated the Guards but most of all he hated Chaliv. But he still had to work for them. If he didn't, his sister might die and that would probably end up killing Taw of grief. After all, she was only 7 and couldn't work yet.
Taw saw a flax seller and ran over to the stand. He was in market street - the busiest street in Avalia - and he only had a few minutes to get to work. He pulled out what little money he had on him and asked for a flax band. 'That'll be 4 Churats, please.' Taw counted his money. He had 2 Churats and 40 Gults*.
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