The wind shrieked and the hearth’s flame danced as the howling winds battered the small wooden shack. Rainwater blew in from underneath the small door serving as the entrance to the building. Sitting on a ratty old rug, a young child played with a set of wooden toy soldiers. An ancient man sat in an old rocking chair near the hearth, the creaking of the wood rhythmically echoing in the small chamber. Peals of thunder boomed suddenly, causing the young child to start and the old man to pull the cowl of his robes closer over his ancient frame. The boy looked up, all thoughts of his King Gabriel figure forgotten as he listened to the storm raging outside. Another crash of thunder exploded and was this time accompanied by the flash of lightning.Too excited now to simply sit and continue playing, the child walked over to his grandfather and tugged at his sleeve.Rainwater dripped in from a hole in the ceiling, and a flash of lightning again illuminated the chamber. The old man chuckled, though the sound quickly deteriorated into a series of wet rasping coughs. He brought two of his arms up and used his sleeves to wipe away the phlegm. When the episode finished at last, he looked over to the child at his side waiting patiently. With an ancient voice barely louder than a whisper, he croaked out his reply.The boy shuffled nervously. Sweat appeared on his brow, and he reconsidered the wisdom of pestering his grandfather further. His grandpa was often known for his temper when he was in a foul mood after all. Before he could speak, though, the old man continued.The old man cleared his throat once more and began.The old man paused for a moment, lost in thought. He glanced over at the boy, gauging his reaction. As was the norm, the boy held a featureless expression and the old man could not tell the emotions no doubt racing through the lad. With a sigh that sounded more like the croak of a frog, the old man continued his tale:The old one finished his tale quietly, as though the retelling had taken all of his energy. He slumped back into the creaking rocking chair and resumed his rocking. The boy sat nearby, and seemed unbothered by the rain that was now drenching him from the hole in the ceiling.The old man opened one of his many eyes and his lips curled up in what could have been a grin. He paused to look through the hole in the ruined building and regard the shambling beings in the streets outside, wandering around in the middle of the storm. Never stopping his rocking, the old one spoke again:[Blocked Image: http://i.imgur.com/HSOk0mo.png?1