Without pausing to think, Eothain rammed her elbows back into the broad chest of her stalker, and as he stumbled back, drew her hunting knife shakily from its sheath, and whirled around to face the marauder.

"Liam?" Standing, or rather, slightly crouched over before her, dressed in a battered, burned, and worn tunic, was Liam O'Skye: her big brother. 

"Aish, sis, no welcome home?" His shaggy mane of strawberry blonde hair couldn't hide the great big grin plastered over his face, or the laughter in his gentle blue eyes. Eothain sheathed her knife quickly, laughing, and hugged Liam tightly.

"Miss me much, lil'un?" Liam looked down at her, grinning widely. Eothain mumbled something against his chest.

"What was that?"

"of course I did, ye great oik," she laughed, punching his arm playfully. She released him, beaming up at him. Liam crouched before her, cupping her face in his hands. "Ye've grown up so fast, me little sister. it seems barely a week ago that I was teaching ya how to defend yourself and how to hunt, and now look at ye!"

"Liam, I'm nearly 17 now. Ye dinna have tae fuss o'er me so." She blushed slightly, raising a single, fair eyebrow reproachfully. On others, this had the effect of those on the business end suddenly finding that they had something else to do, on the other end of the village. In these circumstances, it just made Liam grin wider, chuckling softly under his breath. Suddenly, Liam's normally cheerful and mirthful eyes grew ancient, weary, and... fearful. Only once before she had seen that look cross his face.

"Get. Down." Hearing her brother's stern and suddenly ominous tone, she obeyed instantly, tumbling behind an outcropping of vegetation, Liam crouching behind a great Oak tree. Down in the village, scanning through the townsfolk like some abomination of Lucifer, was the rider, surrounded by a company of pikesmen, in black talbards and rusted maille jerkins. The rider was completely unharmed. Everything stood still, as the tall, ominous figure slid off his horse, and tramped over to Edoras's workshop. Townsfolk skittered away from the huddled lump of soldiers like rats from a flame, hovering around the workshop, just close enough to try to see what was going on inside, but not close enough to spark the irritation of the pikesmen.

 It was then that everything went wrong. Whatever it was that the Rider was asking Edoras, he clearly didn't take it kindly. If there was one thing he was famous for, beyond his flaming red hair, it was his temper. 

"Ya can keep yer blood money, and ya can take yer mangy hobnailers, and GIT outta my shop!" Suddenly, there was an ear-ringing CLANG as the Rider went flying out of the smithy, head first, and landed in the mud around the well. Edoras struggled out of the workshop, face fuming with wrath, held back only by his burly apprentice. Clutched in his iron fist was his massive dishing hammer, trembling from Edoras' fury. "Ye willnae find a Judas here, nor will ye find the lass here! Knowing her, she's probably up some tree somewhere with a stolen scroll or something." Despite the grave circumstances, Eothain chuckled softly. She had been caught many a time with a "borrowed" manuscript from the monestary. She and her brother watched in horror as the Rider got to his feet, hand settling to his belt, striding for the still raging Edoras. Before he could draw another breath to break into his rant further, the Rider lunged forward like a wolf, the brilliant gleam of a knife blade flashing in the sunlight, and- Edoras collapsed to the ground, twitching, soon followed by his apprentice. Everything went to a standstill; then, almost like the Rider knew that she was watching them, he spoke aloud, in a deep, booming yet raspy voice.

"Kill them all."

 Everything descended into chaos. Townsfolk who didn't react quickly enough were either cut down by the stabbing, hacking blades of the pikesmen, or were trampled by their fellow civilians in the rush to escape from the cramped, brutal killing circle. As Eothain watched in horror, Liam yanked on her arm, trying to drag her away from the sight of the slaughter below. Someone must have spilled hot coals in their attempt to escape, as the open doors of the smithy slowly started spilling out acrid, black smoke. In minutes, the smithy could set alight, and with it, the entire town. In the midst of the slaughter, the Rider strode through calmly, hacking down any and all who came into his path. Without warning, he looked up at Eothain and Liam, locked to the spot in terror.

"Eothain.. run," Liam growled, still staring in horror into the hollow visor of the Rider's helm.

"but-"

"RUN!"

With that, as the Rider mounted his horse, Eothain ran, away from the blazing scene of death and destruction, away from the screams of her family, her friends, her neighbors, and into the dark, whispering woods. The iron hooves of the Rider sounded behind her in the soft earth, declaring her death knoll. As she sprinted, dodged, barreled through the underbrush, she couldn't seem to lose the Rider, drawing ever closer. Not knowing where she was running, only knowing that she must run, else join the fate of her village. As she burst out of the treeline suddenly, she stumbled into an open field, and fell. Landing with a resounding thump, she nearly screamed in pain, as she felt her ankle twist under her. Oh kark. Eothain looked over her shoulder, searching for any sign of the Rider, and- There. In the trees. Watching. Waiting. Eothain edged backward, clamboring away from the Rider, as he stepped out from the treeline casually, a bloodstained blade gripped in his hand. Never face death with fear in your heart, her father had always told her, before he disappeared into the misty northern Highlands. Show the Reaper just what you're made of. In this case, however, Eothain just kept moving, crawling painfully away, eyes locked on the Rider, when suddenly, she ran into something. A pair of knobbly horse legs, connected to the body of the same lean, glistening white warhorse, clad in copper and silver plates of armor. Further up, riding it, was- "In God's almighty name, get thee gone from here, Lucifer!" There was a blinding flash of light, and an unearthly howl of terror, anger, and pain, and the last thing Eothain saw was a gauntleted hand reaching down towards her, before she passed out.