That would take a little while to sink into my brain.I looked up at Hannah and noticed that the expression on her face had changed. “It’s time for...you to tell me your story,” she told me.“Yes, mistress.” Hannah got up, went over to the couch and sat down. She motioned me to come and sit with her. She crossed her long legs and I started to get even wetter than I already was.“Where would you like me to start, my mistress?” I asked her.She thought for a second, then replied, “Tell me of your. There were maybe a dozen scrawny (at least by the standards of the villagers, they were still about as big as he was) people waiting in the square, wearing rags and wielding pitchforks that had been turned into spears. Two of them were not scrawny, but rather big, well-fed and wearing clothes that weren’t rags, and what parts of the dead warrior’s armor they could fit over their larger frames. The woman had the dead woman’s sword, the man had a woodsman’s axe, but his muscles could probably. More

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