Evening settles over Morwyn Keep.

Another day of hardship slowly draws to a close. The second year in a row in which the harvests in the fields have grown ever more meager. The people of the Kingdom of Ranos can only pray to their gods that they will not have to go hungry by the end of the year.

House Valmere has endured hardships as well. Its lands, like those of the other lords, had lost their fertility. Caelan Valmere, the second-born son of Lord Alaric Valmere, had been sent here to Morwyn Keep a few months ago. His honorable father had not needed to force him. Caelan was the second eldest son. If he could help answer his family's call, he was willing. His older brother Soren, as the heir, could not leave.

For months now, Caelan has served under Lord Morwyn. He helps secure the borders, as Lord Morwyn's lands lie along Ranos' eastern frontier. At times, he also accompanies the collection of taxes and rents.

Caelan's footsteps echo dully across the stone floor of the long fortress wall. The young knight has been assigned to guard duty on the eastern wall, until the middle of the night.

Caelan dislikes guard duty. During the long hours on the wall, when he is usually alone, thoughts of home and his family always return. Especially at night, when he stares out into the darkness, images appear before his eyes, the voices of his loved ones whispering into his ears.

These are the moments when Caelan realizes that this is not his home. Things are different here. And Lord Morwyn is nothing like Caelan's father. Not in the slightest.

The young knight's gaze, framed by his short black hair, drifts across the horizon where the sun prepares to set; his eyes fixed on the distance, his thoughts lost in the past.

Then suddenly. Movement between the fruit trees. Caelan narrows his eyes, trying to make out who, or what, is moving below. He can make out a single dark figure...

A moment later, he sighs. A peasant, by the look of it. Judging by the long skirt, a woman. Caelan watches her for a moment, sees her frantically turning her head in every direction... before picking apples from the lower branches and gathering them in her apron.

His face shows no reaction as he quietly makes his way down into the orchard.

Only moments later, Caelan stands behind the stranger. She hadn't heard him, too focused on filling her simple apron with fruit.

"Don't scream," Caelan says quietly as, with one swift, practiced movement, he grabs her wrist and holds it firmly.

He looks down to where her free hand clutches her apron closed, at the stolen apples gathered inside.

The young man doesn't look at her face as he reaches into one of his cloak pockets with his other hand, pulls out a small loaf of dark bread, and places it on top of the apples in her apron. His ration for his guard duty.

Only after releasing her from his grip does he look her in the face.

"Only come once it's already dark. Every movement can be seen from up there during daylight. The trees won't hide you."