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Kolith strode along the beaten path, the setting sun framing the sky in a vivid orange. He had been walking most of the day, a boar-skin bag slung over his shoulder, following the twists and turns of the road. He breathed deeply of the twilight air, at peace. The Forbidden Grove would always be his home, but being out in nature, simply living in the moment, was a close second.
Perhaps it was a result of his astonishing defiance of death, but life seemed sweeter since his return. Also a contributor would have been his successful strengthening of his resolve, something he hadn’t even noticed he lost until it was presented to him. With the Elder Spirits’ blessing, he left the Forbidden Grove to finally begin his calling; to protect Erde Nona from the Unmade.
Though his lunchtime meal of fresh fish had been filling, his stomach rumbled. The warmth of the sun vanished from the air, replaced by the pleasant coolness of evening. That would soon deepen into an icy chill. He would soon need somewhere to rest for the night.
A large village appeared on the horizon as he crested a hill. Half of the settlement was bordered by a new wooden fence. As Kolith drew closer, he saw the townsfolk labouring away at the construction of the barrier. The burlier men hauled large planks of wood with pointed tops from prefabricated piles, dumping them near other villagers who stood them up, lowered them into divots in the earth, and hammered them sturdily into place. A few gave him a friendly wave as he headed towards the village. Kolith returned the gesture, happy to meet such kind people.
“Good evening,” Kolith said to a thick armed man who had stopped to wipe sweat from his brow. The villager returned the greeting, unfazed by Kolith’s less than pristine appearance. “This looks to be a new palisade, is it not?”
“Yes,” the man said. “We have been lucky enough to get by without having to build a barricade for a while, but the town voted to do so since the Unmade have appeared.”
Kolith frowned. “Unmade? Here?”
“Fear not,” the villager said. “None have been remotely close to us. But unlike brigands and bandits, the Unmade can’t be fended off easily.”
I wouldn’t have thought brigands and bandits would be easy to deal with either, Kolith thought.
“That is wise,” Kolith said. “Though if they’re determined, I don’t know if wood will stop them.”
“It is all we have for now,” the man said. “We will work on strengthening it as time goes on. Besides, as I said, it is merely precautionary.”
“Indeed. Say, do you know where I could find lodgings for the night?”
The villager pointed down the main street of the village. A number of two and three story buildings faced each other across the street, porch lanterns burning, as people shifted in and out. Kolith’s enhanced ears heard the lively din that most taverns inculcated at this time of day.
“Any of those,” the man said. “We’re popular as a rest stop for travellers.”
Kolith observed another tavern, closest to him, though the turnout there seemed much lower. The burning lantern barely gave off any light. “What about that place?”
“The Crescent Moon Alehouse.” The man paused, consternation on his face, before it broke before a chuckle. “Some people are saying it’s haunted.”
Kolith raised an eyebrow.
The man shrugged. “They’re the rumours. Unfortunately, those rumours are driving customers away. Probably just some scheme from the other tavern owners to increase their own profits.”
Kolith nodded. “Thank you for your assistance.”
As he strolled through the centre of the village, he reconsidered his designation of ‘village.’ It was larger than most settlements he had seen, though for Kolith that didn’t mean much – he lived most his life on a farm and the rest in a forest. Even so, the number of houses and the height of many of them, some double or even triple storied, surprised him. As did the number of people gathering at the taverns and strolling the street. Nowhere near Arcadia’s size, but bigger than a standard village in the middle of nowhere as well.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a pale white glow along it, while the sky brimmed in deep blue and black. Kolith headed towards the taverns, inviting with their soft candlelight and promises of food and rest... but he couldn’t take his mind off of the Crescent Moon Alehouse. He felt a pull towards the dimly lit tavern, something indescribable.
Yet his stomach demanded to be filled, and his travel weary legs to rest, and the other taverns looked much more appealing.
Kolith headed into the nearest one, promising himself he would investigate the Crescent Moon in the morning.
Perhaps it was a result of his astonishing defiance of death, but life seemed sweeter since his return. Also a contributor would have been his successful strengthening of his resolve, something he hadn’t even noticed he lost until it was presented to him. With the Elder Spirits’ blessing, he left the Forbidden Grove to finally begin his calling; to protect Erde Nona from the Unmade.
Though his lunchtime meal of fresh fish had been filling, his stomach rumbled. The warmth of the sun vanished from the air, replaced by the pleasant coolness of evening. That would soon deepen into an icy chill. He would soon need somewhere to rest for the night.
A large village appeared on the horizon as he crested a hill. Half of the settlement was bordered by a new wooden fence. As Kolith drew closer, he saw the townsfolk labouring away at the construction of the barrier. The burlier men hauled large planks of wood with pointed tops from prefabricated piles, dumping them near other villagers who stood them up, lowered them into divots in the earth, and hammered them sturdily into place. A few gave him a friendly wave as he headed towards the village. Kolith returned the gesture, happy to meet such kind people.
“Good evening,” Kolith said to a thick armed man who had stopped to wipe sweat from his brow. The villager returned the greeting, unfazed by Kolith’s less than pristine appearance. “This looks to be a new palisade, is it not?”
“Yes,” the man said. “We have been lucky enough to get by without having to build a barricade for a while, but the town voted to do so since the Unmade have appeared.”
Kolith frowned. “Unmade? Here?”
“Fear not,” the villager said. “None have been remotely close to us. But unlike brigands and bandits, the Unmade can’t be fended off easily.”
I wouldn’t have thought brigands and bandits would be easy to deal with either, Kolith thought.
“That is wise,” Kolith said. “Though if they’re determined, I don’t know if wood will stop them.”
“It is all we have for now,” the man said. “We will work on strengthening it as time goes on. Besides, as I said, it is merely precautionary.”
“Indeed. Say, do you know where I could find lodgings for the night?”
The villager pointed down the main street of the village. A number of two and three story buildings faced each other across the street, porch lanterns burning, as people shifted in and out. Kolith’s enhanced ears heard the lively din that most taverns inculcated at this time of day.
“Any of those,” the man said. “We’re popular as a rest stop for travellers.”
Kolith observed another tavern, closest to him, though the turnout there seemed much lower. The burning lantern barely gave off any light. “What about that place?”
“The Crescent Moon Alehouse.” The man paused, consternation on his face, before it broke before a chuckle. “Some people are saying it’s haunted.”
Kolith raised an eyebrow.
The man shrugged. “They’re the rumours. Unfortunately, those rumours are driving customers away. Probably just some scheme from the other tavern owners to increase their own profits.”
Kolith nodded. “Thank you for your assistance.”
As he strolled through the centre of the village, he reconsidered his designation of ‘village.’ It was larger than most settlements he had seen, though for Kolith that didn’t mean much – he lived most his life on a farm and the rest in a forest. Even so, the number of houses and the height of many of them, some double or even triple storied, surprised him. As did the number of people gathering at the taverns and strolling the street. Nowhere near Arcadia’s size, but bigger than a standard village in the middle of nowhere as well.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a pale white glow along it, while the sky brimmed in deep blue and black. Kolith headed towards the taverns, inviting with their soft candlelight and promises of food and rest... but he couldn’t take his mind off of the Crescent Moon Alehouse. He felt a pull towards the dimly lit tavern, something indescribable.
Yet his stomach demanded to be filled, and his travel weary legs to rest, and the other taverns looked much more appealing.
Kolith headed into the nearest one, promising himself he would investigate the Crescent Moon in the morning.