It's a dark evening today. It's almost winter and the evenings are coming sooner but it's the mood that darkens this evening. The elder walks the familiar path, head facing straight ahead. He is not looking to his fellow villagers, not giving reassurances as he walks. His attention fully on the soldiers standing at where the village ends and the path to the road begins. They bear heralding of the local lord, and they stand guard over many wagons. Too many wagons. The eldar grimaces at the sight as he arrives. The wagons are empty.

  The captain of the soldiers raises a hand in greeting and begins speaking before the elder does the same. “The campaign goes longer than expected. You are to provide three quarters of your winter stores.”

  There was no argument to be had, the elder tries anyway. “We have already given half our harvest in taxes. Taxes that were raised by our lord this year. Any further and we will be eating our seed stock before the solstice.” Depending on how soon the spring came the village was already looking at that grim prospect.

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  “Your people will just have to make do.”

  The elder tries again but is interrupted almost immediately.

  “The lord understands your sacrifices and is providing hunting licenses for Grafteir.”

  The captain hands the tokens to the elder. They are inscribed stones that hang from chords. There are three. Three licenses for hunting in a dungeon to feed a village of 25 families. Grafteir dungeon is 10,000 kings feet from the village. A village whose hunters have been conscripted. The elder hand trembles as the licenses clack together. The captain looks annoyed.

  “Do you prefer that my soldiers cull your population now? Taking all the food stores is well within my writ.”

  The elder, blanched, turns to look at his fellow villagers. He sees families missing sons and daughters of marriageable age. Conscripted for a feud between lords. They stand at the entrances of their homes. They may not have heard the conversation, short that it was, but the wagons speak plenty of what's to come. He sees hopelessness in their eyes. It is reflected in his own. He turns to the side and begins to lead the soldiers and their empty wagons.

  There is no rebellion this dark evening. The soldiers are already within the village's barrier. Their lord's token provided passage. They leave in the morning, their wagons are full.