Drivvic the Southlander

The drought had ended and life giving rain had once again fallen onto the dry, brittle grass lands as the lone horseman galloped across the open field causing a dark spot on the horizon in the setting sun. He was a large man mounted on a warhorse of an equally impressive size. His metal axe catching the last few rays of dying sunlight as it bobbed up in down in rhythm with the footsteps of the horse as he neared the small hamlet known as keeper's crossing. The residents would have mixed feelings about his arrival, to some Drivvic was a friend, a hero, and a honorable man. To others, however, he was a bandit, a liar, and a ruffian. All of these people would be right. Drivvic was not a good man nor was he bad... he did only as he was compelled to do by the inner-machinations of his brain.
It was business that had brought the southlander North to Keeper's Crossing this time rather than pleasure as per usual. Ianto had chosen this to be the meeting place and Drivvic had agreed, whether or not the others had was an unknown to the big man. He stabled his Horse, Asluan, and made his way across the small town on foot heading to the only tavern in the area, the foaming rabbit; Drivvic had always been curious of the name but never thought to ask, perhaps this time I will, he thought to himself as he pushed his way through through the saloon style swinging doors.

more later...