Low-hanging fog rolled down the steep banks of dew-covered hills, snaking through the dark valley like a sapling stream.

Imperial pathfinders struck towards to the plains beyond, where the monastery would be waiting, passing over the stony valley floor with silent fleet of foot.

The emperor’s armies were still bivouacked; his elite troops of the vanguard were in their pickets.

Soundlessly, a figure stepped from the shadows, cloaked in red, feet shrouded in mist.

The scouts looked at each other uneasily, and then checked their path of retreat.

These warrior-monks were renowned above all; they knew neither fear or pain.

via Daily Prompt: Hesitate


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