Young Writers Society

This is a very short introduction, but I find it to be lacking somehow, perhaps I should lengthen it. Any advice would be appreciated.

Issys took the glass from the young squire, cupping his large hand around the rip without taking a sip. “Beson, with armies moving in the east, I hardly think it wise to be threatening the border of Sheebna,” the stout, grey haired Capitan eyed the map warily. He leaned heavily against one of the wooden pillars, his great, bear-like arms folded across his chest. General Harnek raised his eyes, and stood back from hunching over the map which was laid out on the rough, wooden table in front of them.

“We have not much choice, Harbrig,” he replied, his face weary from the consorts and strains being a general had placed him under. Had he been anyone but the stern, fair, headstrong leader of the Southron battalions, the tall, grey-haired Capitan may have pitted him. But one did not pity Harnek.

“Saisra is hostile in our Northern boarders, but her Quthall’s are rallying with Mormoch, to our advantage of course. I see that a fealty may be broken if we do not aid them, but we are yet useless to them while Saisra’s armies sit divided, there is not entrance from the South.”

“You mean to return to them, then?” Harbrig asked, drawing closer to the map.

“Yes. Countless Breal had advised me against it, but I would rather confront the wraith of Calen than General Calliver.”

The aged Capitan sighed, and looked up as the general folded his arms across his chest and pressed twqo fingers to his lips in thought; steady dark brown eyes fallen again to the map.

“He fought with your father in Kingsmarch, general, but it has been many years, and men have changed since then. You need only look at Calen.”

Harnek raised his brow as his looked back up at his old comrade. In that moment, he seemed as earnest as he had been as a child, a face innocent to the pains of war. But as quickly as it had changed, his face returned to the battle-weary general, with a heart as cold as old snow.

“You knew my father as well as I, and Calliver no less,” he uncrossed his arms from his chest. “What would you have me do, Issys?”

Harbrig shook his head, “Harnek, I’d often deign from advising you, you are not a man easily lead, and nor was Alradur Harnek. But I will say one thing. In this sort of situation, you have two choices. Neither is the wrong choice, but if you want my counsel, son, then choose the one your father would have chosen.” Issys Harbrig turned then, and left the general staring into the flickering orange hearth, shadows dancing on his handsome features.