The sight of the encampment walls over topped with the peaks of tents & weapon seated within their racks told of the return of the Raggers to the fields of the Gathering. At such an early hour on the first morning the camp was quiet with only a hint of smoke from the fire pit and the ruffle of canvas in the wind.
I found myself a spot close to the entrance and set about my first sketch of the event, it seems wherever the Raggers go they bring a little of the Norscan weather with them. A light shower sent me scurrying to the cover of the Shian tent close by to save the running of the ink.
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