The sun was already sinking into the deep green of the hills to the west of the valley, the red and grey-pink of its shadows touching the corners of the land, when Creadius Styhonrad began his descent. He took the path he always took when he was returning home after picking up some supplies for his fathers’ inn. There was a slight chill in the evening air, and Creadius yawned as he reached for his wool shirt. His journey ahead lay through the forests and over the mountains; he was still a few hours from home. The sun had set, he had rested long enough to continue back home. He slung his light pack over his shoulder, faced the moon with his still young but, broad face. His light green eyes shone in the moonlight. With a small smirk on his face he walked into the forest, and the darkness of the tall oaks reached upward to overlap the cloudless night sky. He ventured confidently through the dark and quite forest. Because he had travelled this same route a hundred times. But, something troubled Creadius as he immediately noticed the unusual stillness, the cries of the birds wasn’t there, the buzzing insects that normally was present were gone. He felt uneasy and unsettled. He forced himself to whistle and turned his thoughts back to his fathers’ inn. He continued through the forest in thoughts of his comfortable bed, he yawned as he closed in to his home.
Creadius’ mother died when she gave birth to him, she had been unusually wealthy because of royalty, her royal blood flowed in his veins. Which Creadius did not yet know, he was unwitting of his heir, his father had kept silent of it, Creadius had always been curious about his past, and hers. But Creadius never questioned his father, he was happy running an inn together with him, he believed he had reason why he did not tell him, Creadius didn’t care. He needed no more, no less. He had always been happy living together with his father.
After a few hours the trees and bushes began to thin out and the flickering of yellow light was visible through the darkness. Creadius smiled graefully at the lights that shone in friendly greeting through the windows of the silent buildings. Finally he had arrived in the village of Hillsbrad. He sighed with relief and he quickly reached the inn. It was a large structure, constructed of huge logs and he could clearly hear the laughter and shouts from within. He walked in and it was filled with benches, chairs and several long wooden tables set against the wall. The room was brightly lit by candles on the tables and the walls and by the huge fireplace constructed into the center on the wall ahead. Creadius was momentarily blinded as his eyes adjusted to the light. The men gathered about the bar looked up and greeted him as he entered. He nodded and smiled; he saw his father at the end of the room and called for him.
He gave him the items and told him he was exhausted and entered his room soon after that, he barely had any chance to undress as he fell asleep immediately in his warm and comfortable bed…
He woke up in the middle of the night of someone grabbing his shoulders firmly with their hands, shaking him rapidly out of his convenient dream of peaceful days. He opened his eyes and peered over at the dark person standing in front of him with narrowed eyes.
“Father?” he questioned.
“Get up! We’re under attack, the half of our village is already set aflame! We need to escape, now!” he yelled in desperation.
...
That's a part of Creadius' young days he's still about 18-20 here (Right now he's 67 years old), a bit too detailed perhaps? If you like it I guess I'll try to keep that up, otherwise I should just write down the main events ^^ That's all for now, hopefully it won't bore you (:
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