He Came From the Red Valley

For the first few hours of his journey August skipped along with a great sense of excitement. He followed various small Trails in the general direction of north using the sun as an indicator of his orientation. The tree-line above gave him very little chance to use any landmarks.

The forest that he trekked through was magnificent to behold. The Red Valley region was heavily wooded with conifers, some as ancient as five hundred years old. Most held a diameter of at least two and a half meters.

The forest canopy was so thick at the top that light struggled to reach the ground. Yet because of the lack of light, the floor of the forest was empty of any plant growth. Instead the floor was covered, perhaps as deep as a meter in pine needles. Though they were packed so tightly that August easily trodded over them.

In abundance, however, were wild mushrooms, of varying species, which grew on the bark of the trees in clusters high above the forest floor. Some of these mushrooms the young adventurer had never seen before. Many possessed medicinal qualities, but most people were discouraged from discovering which ones, as still many more were absolutely poisionous.

On his way he passed several homesteads of varying condition. A few were indeed well kept enough, most of which were so because of a sufficient number of heirs, but sometimes it was obvious that the household father was either a coward, or otherwise unable to mount for war. These types of fellows were despised by August for somewhat obvious reasons.

Yet the vast majority were situated similarly as Delania's household. Many people struggled to make ends meet just the same.

Soon enough, the young man stumbled upon the great highway that the Kings of Bethphage continued to build and maintain. While the quality of such roads varied greatly throughout the kingdom, the road that August found himself on was one of the more simple ones.

The Road itself was made mostly of dirt. And even though it was built to be at least five meters wide, it was still relatively difficult to see more then a few hundred meters ahead as It meandered its way towards civilization.

It was quiet. Very few people were brave enough to follow the road to complete commerce, mostly because of the recent prevalence of highwaymen and other marauding folk who sought to take advantage of the lack of military protection in the backwaters of Bethphage.

August decided to heed the advice of his Mother and promised now to himself that he would stay off the highway. Though he did reason to follow it from a distance, so as to prevent himself from getting lost. The road gently meandered for several more miles before August decided to stop and rest.

The sun was still well in the sky, but it was obvious that it had at least begun its descent.

The stomach of the young traveler was rumbling, and so he decided unpack the lunch that his Mother had made him. Within its contents was a chunk of goat cheese and a few crackers which had unfortunately crumbled in his pack. August quickly devoured the morsels.

He sat for awhile, gathering his bearings.

The sun, close enough to its peak, would indicate, relatively, the direction of south he thought to himself.....

Just then, the faint sound of hooves crashing down into the soil could be heard in the distance.

August quickly got into a prone position as the sound became louder. His heart pounding, he reached into his pack and grabbed his estoc.

He looked up and saw three men mounted on horseback. The first one carried a banner representing some house subservient to the King of Bethphage. Although August was sure of this, he was unable to pinpoint just where the men were from.

They were armored heavily, but their steel plates were dented and tarnished. They had all the look of gloom and dismay that men who had just recently seen mass bloodshed seemed to possess.

Before August could make a move, the soldiers were gone.

Why were the Kings men so far from Maskil? Why was their look full of so much dread? Had they been defeated? What news of his father? These thoughts rushed relentlessly through August's mind. He realized that he had forgotten to breath, and so caught his wind.

Now a bit disheartened, the adventurer contemplated for a short while returning back to his home out of fear. He quickly cast the thought out of his head, slightly ashamed that it ever came to him in the first place.

August replaced his estoc, and decided it would be prudent that he string his bow instead.

Along his way he glassed for any game that he could eat for supper. He stalked nothing for a few more miles before the sunset began.

August finally stopped at a bend in a small fast moving creek. Still concerned about those soldiers, he decided against building any fire. At any rate, he set up his campsite.

It's was getting a bit colder now that fall was well underway, but his wool blanket would still be ample enough to keep his toes warm for the night.

The young man grabbed a wooden bowl out of his pack and went to the creek bed to fill it with water. After taking a few swigs, he refills it and mixes it with his flour to create a sort of paste. 'This will have to do' he thinks to himself as he begrudgingly slops the bland mixture into his mouth. While not particularly pleasant, it expanded and filled his belly.

Before long August started to doze off....

***

The adventurer quickly cleared his campsite and left as soon as there was first light.

Before long, August approached a crossroad. It was situated on a clearing, but there at the junction were signs which denoted which direction led where. From where he was he couldn't make them out. With out a map it was crucial that he read the signs.

He hesitated at first, it seemed dangerous to expose himself, especially from so many different angles.

Arming himself again with his bow, he finally convinced himself to go for it. He walked up to the signs, and read their contents.

The sign leading southeast, read: Mount Vortunia 94 Km

To the northeast: Arhol 164 Km

The North: Taufen 31 Km

Before August could read the sign that directed towards the west, he noticed a figure lying on the road, some distance away.

It seemed that it belonged to that of a person. Feeling a sense of dread, the young man quickly lunged into some nearby brush.

August, from where he hid, attempted to identify the figure. It became abundantly clear that the outline, in fact, did belong to a person. The terrifying realization that the body was likely lifeless struck the adventurer.

After waiting some time, and growing confident in the fact that no one was aware of him, he decided to creep closer to investigate.

As he got closer he realized that the body was smaller then expected. Thinking of his younger siblings, August grabbed at his chest as a he approached, horrified to identify the corpse.

The figure wore a bright green coat made of some expensive material. It's sheen made that apparent to August as the sun reflected off of its white trim. It was obviously foreign, but he was unsure of its origins.

He smelt something putrid coming from it as he neared the body. But it wasn't death that eminated from it, something August new well enough. Instead it smelled like urine and regurgitated spirits.

Now standing nearly above the body, August noticed that it was indeed breathing.

He shook the body and it groaned.

"Méva têi yà!" A sentient complained with a hoarse but feminine voice.

August stood back, a bit taken aback. Still in shock, but also seriously curious, he hesitatingly shakes the hooded being again. This time there is no response aside from a grumble or three. He wasnt sure what this being was capable of doing, and so he also wasn't sure how to proceed.

He leaned in so as to be heard "I am August Piast of the Red Valley, Son of Bolyslaw."

He was unsure if he should do more then introduce himself. After hearing no response he decides to continue.

"I'm on my way to Taufen.. Perhaps you're headed there too?"

At that the character turns her face to reveal herself. She appeared older, but albeit only beginning a middle age.

She stood up, removing her hood, and August realized that in front of him is no human, but a small elf, perhaps as tall as his chest. The woman rubs her eyes and looks at August whom is still stunned by her peculiarities.

She's appeared unsure of what to say, or rather how to communicate, the language barrier obvious. The elf eyes the boy up and down. She spots his pack and points to it, and then points back to her mouth. She makes a drinking motion, as if to ask for something to drink.

August removes a small water pouch and graciously hands it to her and she snatches it from him greedily. She barely opens her mouth before she gulps down half the pouch.

Then she reaches inside of her own jacket and removes a sack. From it she pulls out several small red mushrooms, and begins to chew on them. She winces as she does so. After a few seconds, she swigs down the rest of the water to wash the fungus down.

The Elf sits down and crosses her legs, as if she was patiently waiting for something.

August is absolutely enamored by the elf, he had never seen anything like the woman before in his life. He was most curious as to what exactly she was up too.

The elf hunched over, and started heaving. Before long, foul began to spew from her mouth. Once the attack had subsided she rose her feet and wobbled to and fro before looking up.

"Undêrstánd?" She asks suddenly.

Now August is totally flabbergasted by this. So shocked that he is momentarily unable to speak. The elf senses this and opens:

"Mūshrœms ãllow mei spékē yoū tongæ smáll momånt" she says.

August is still a bit taken aback as he deciphered the elf’s strange diction. He hesitantly responds:

"Yes, I understand"

The elf asks, "Whêré wē?"

"I'm not exactly sure... What I do know is where I come from and where I'm going. My father always told me that's all that really matters anyways." August replies

The woman realizes the person before her is still in his minority. She acquiesces his statements with a half puzzled, half annoyed look.

August, assuming his answer wasn’t the one she was looking for, added:

"You are at least aware that this land belongs to the King of all Bethpage?"

The elf looks on in disbelief, she didn't realize she had crossed the border. It was at least obvious to August that she was far from her home.

"I've önly hēard mýths of thîs place befõre. It ís a strãngè pláce. I hâte it..." She quibbles.

August is unsure of how to continue the conversation...

The elf continues, "Namê Quéria. Cõme from Limdörf. Cœuncijl sênt méi fôr gorièstōpes tapás wertûr..."

She noticed that the young human was unable to capture the end of her sentence. The mushrooms and their magical effect had seemed to wear off.

"Eat more of the mushrooms" he said. But she was unable to understand him as well

August beckoned for her to take more so he may further satiate his curiosity. She shook her head and refused, pointing at the bag and then her mouth, and pretended to look sick.

The adventurer thought that it was perhaps unpleasant for her to take them. He gestured towards the north, beckoning for her to follow or else stay behind.

Quéria was left with little choice. She decided that the boy is trustworthy enough, and traveling in a strange land alone didn't sound very appealing. She followed close behind the human, sneaking a large swig of brandywine unbeknownst to August.

And so the two set off north for Taufen.

At first the two continued to follow Delania's advice and stayed well enough off the roads. The forests began to give way as they began their journey, and open plains replaced them. August was now somewhat out of his element, although nowhere near to the degree of Quéria.

Vast oceans of grain waves back and forth in the wind. It was high time that they be harvested, but many of these fields lacked manpower as well.

The two could see far ahead of themselves, and so any trouble would be easy to spot. It was decided that for the sake of time they get on the roads.

For several hours the newfound companions traveled in awkward silence. All the while Quéria grew evermore intoxicated as she snuck more and more brandy.

They passed several hamlets of varying size. The vast majority of them were poor communities.

Because it was still early in the day, the people slowly went about their mid-morning chores. It was out of the ordinary that they spot two strangers on the highway, traveling relatively unarmed. Though it wasn't strange enough, or striking enough, for them to object or otherwise question the travelers.

They had made considerable progress before they came upon a wooden bridge, that carries the path across an energetic river.

Quéria tugs on August's tunic, beckoning away from the bridge. It was obvious enough to him that she did not want to cross the bridge by any means.

August was a bit unsure of her thinking. The river, though low at the end of the season, looked relatively difficult to navigate. He beckoned instead to continue towards the bridge. The elf stopped and shook her head, trying to convince, without eloquence of word, that bridges are actually dangerous to cross.

Before the war most of them were guarded by the King's men, and required a toll to cross. With the war with Maskil well underway, only but the most important bridges were guarded and maintained in this dark time. Instead, most smaller bridges, like the wooden bridge ahead, this obvious enough to Quéria, was one that was likely maintained, if at all, by private parties.

Alas, the foreign speaking elf was unable to transmit nearly any of this information to August, whom carried on, his decision already well made.

He approached the bridge with some confidence. Quéria hesitantly followed behind.

August took his first steps onto the bridge, his boot making a clunking noise with every step.

A rustle happened beneath him. He stopped, and so did the stirring. He took another step. The stirring now grew more deliberate. It moved towards the bank of the river, and began to ascend to the level of the boardwalk.

August suddenly became aware of why exactly Quéria wanted to avoid the crossing, as a bit of apprehension overtook his consciousness. The young man froze in is place, unsure of what to do next.

A man wearing rusty chainmail emerges on the side of the river from which they came. He looked at them menacingly, waving a bastard's sword at the two.

Just then, Quéria grabs onto August's arm and began to run in the direction they intended to go in the first place. Soon enough they were engaged in a full on sprint attempting to escape the clutches of this apparently evil man.

The man, a bit older, and much less limber on his feet as he once had been, was unable to keep up with the two travelers. Knowing this he let out a loud whistle.

As Quéria led August to nearly the mid point of the creaky wooden bridge, two more men emerged on the other side. One drew a barbaric club and slapped it against his hand. The other could barely stand, appearing too drunk to handle himself. The man with the club gave his partner a solid thwap on the head, which seemed to sober him up a bit as he straightened himself up.

"What do have here... A child and an elf..." The old man said, "I guess it's our lucky day boys!"

The man with the club began to approach their prize saying, "Yea, I guess it is boss." He sounded a bit daft, it was obvious that he was the muscle of the group.

August drew his estoc and pointed it at the large man now moving towards him. It was obvious enough that he was not trained, as he handled the sword with little apparent grace as he shook in fear.

Quéria was ever more frustrated in the fact that she was unable to speak to these robbers. Nevertheless, she removed her bottle of brandy, now half empty, and took another sip, and showed it to the men, making it obvious what it was.

The robber who could barely stand, considerably smaller then his friend, but no less daft noticed the bottle.

"Gimme that you ugly elf wench!" He demanded, sloppily slurring his words. He pushed passed his larger counter part and approached the woman. August, feeling a sudden surge of courage stood between him and Quéria.

The drunken robbers reaction was just too slow as August pressed his estoc against the assailant’s throat. It poked through the skin, slowly drawing blood. The man stops dead in his tracks, the scene sobering him further. He realized what a foolish mistake he had made.

August pressed his estoc further into the highwayman, forcing him to backtrack towards his companion.

Just then the old man snuck up and grabbed Quéria, holding her like a human shield, still pointing his sword at August. Little did he know, the elf was no pushover, she clawed and kicked her way out of his grasp.

Enraged by this, the man swings his steel at her. Quéria quickly dodges the strike, and throws her glass bottle at him. It shatters over his head and he is knocked back, not unconscious, but seriously disoriented.

The man armed with the club reaches around his drunk friend, and strikes the estoc out of August's hand. The adolescent reverses back into Quéria and knocks her over, himself falling as well.

As quickly as they may, they rise back to their feet together, except now they are absolutely surrounded by all three of the bandits.

"We've got you now!" The club wielding man yells out

The ring leader steps in, "I was going to give you a chance to convince me not to steal from you... But now I guess you've convinced me to kill you instead! Don't worry, I'll make it a slow and painful death for the two of you!"

The situation seemed dire. August took a moment to remember his life, and feeling a sense of hopelessness prepared to give himself up.

Just then Quéria pulls out another small pouch and from it pulls a handful of powder. The men know full well that she is an elf, and so too know their affinity for the arcane arts. They hesitate, afraid of what effect this powder may have.

"Mévu Talõg resændā borké." She says as she turns to the old man, the apparent leader of the group. She cocks her enclosed fist back, ready to throw.

"No need to be so hasty." The old man's voice becomes more endearing and understanding.

The bandits had never seen real magic, only heard stories of it. They were truly terrified of finding out the details first hand.

"This was all just a bit of fun we were playing on you, right boys." He continues, slowly backing away

The other two bandits nod their heads in agreement as they too back away, following their captains lead.

Quéria decided to push her luck, she walks step in step with the old man. She proceeds to point at the shards of her recently befallen bottle of brandy. She motions for them to replace it, she points at the drunken man, evidence that surely they are able to replace her lost spirits.

The smaller idiot bandit retreats down below to their lair to produce an offering. All the while he does so is a humiliating display of the power and might of the böar river gang of bandits. August even let's out a chuckle as the thug hands over a miniature barrel of wine.

Quéria motions for August to grab it from the man. He does so, and the elf also reminds him to pick his estoc off the ground as well. She then beckons for him to speak for the two.

Feeling empowered August chimes in, "petty bandits, stand aside and let us pass."

The three do as the he says and stand aside, and lower their weapons altogether. The two quickly step past the bandits, content to continue on their journey unabated. Quéria does not uncock her fist until she is entirely sure of their safety.

The two traveled for some time, checking often to ensure they are not followed.

Soon enough they stumbled upon a patch of woods which they sought asylum in.

Though there was several hours of sunlight left, they decided to set up camp and rest, they had seen enough today.

Not entirely desiring to share the small woolen blanket that they had, they decided to build a small fire.

August strung his bow, and left searching for something to eat. He left his elf companion behind, herself cradling the barrel of wine by the fire. By now August was well aware of how much Quéria liked to drink, perhaps too much he thought.

An hour later he returned with a small rabbit. August skinned the rabbit, stuffing the pelt in his pack for safekeeping. He put the rabbit on a spit and began roasting it over the small fire.

By now, Quéria had already fetched water and was boiling some aside the heat of the fire in August 's wooden bowl. She reached into her jacket again and removed the red mushrooms. She mashes them up with a stick and a makeshift bark plate. Then she slowly adds the pasty powder into to the now bubbling water as she gently stirs. August watched with curiosity as she did so.

After letting the mixture evaporate water to strengthen the brew and she thought it was ready she let it cool and filled three small vials with the liquid.

She stuffs them into her seemingly infinite pockets and sips from the small bit left over in the bowl. She holds her stomach slightly, but this time she doesn't befoul the grounds.

"Bētter to mãke teá. It staỳ s longêr toō." ,The elf began speaking the humans language again.

Quéria continues, "Wàs sēnt hêre by Quéria 's Cœncijl for obsérving yõu pèople. Wàs cãptûred frōm bàrbaric Maskïl. Dónt wörry Bethpæge bàrbaric too. Quéria 's höme use scīènce."

"What of the war?" August asks eagerly.

Quéria, not entirely sure how to treat children, never having seen one of elvish descent in her life, decided to satiate August's curiosity.

"Löts of Chēss in begìnníng, Maskïl fīnds vûlnerabilïty, Attæcks weēks agõ. Bethpæge Kîng Slaīn fröm spéar. Bethphæge army rün in tætters." She unloads

August is immediately saddened by the news. He was now all but sure that his father was dead. His eyes well with tears as he attempted to maintain his composure.

"Quéria serfê tœr benvijde goē-" she caught herself speaking her elven tongue again.

She grabs the bowl of potion and takes another small sip.

"Apölogize fœr páin. Fõrget this mêans dōom." She says with a wince.

"My father!" August says as he begins to sob.

Quéria was not stupid, she quickly remembered that in Feudal Bethphæge, citizens formed the levy armies and his father was likely in that army. She patted August awkwardly on the back to console him. She offered him some of her wine, which he took a swig of.

"Whý ēndànger yoū? Whàt yoū doīng hêre?

August understood her questions well enough.

He replied, "My family is going to starve and so I have been sent on behalf of them and also to procure some means of paying the silver tithe instated by the King."

Quéria jumps in, "Nô háve pây dêad man" She half smiles, hoping this would cheer him up at least some.

"Perhaps you're right" he says as she nods.

August continues, "But I've still got to sell this and that pelt." He points to the deer pelt and his new rabbit pelt.

Quéria half understands him by his gesture alone, but the potion wears off again, and she shrugs at the boy.

She takes the final few drops from the bowl.

"Pœtiôn nõt lâst foréver." She says, beckoning for the conversation to wrap up before the magical tea wore off again.

"Quéria, what was that powder of yours by the bridge? He asks

" Sand. " the elf said before she burst into a fit of witches laughter.

Quéria, eager to properly end the conversation closes, "Sleēp wéll Aügúst Pīást."

Soon the potions effects where off and they silently eat fresh rabbit to the sound of a crackling fire. Before long they fall asleep.

***

The next day they awake at first light. They disassemble their camp and head further north.

The scenery is much the same as the day before. The land seems to stretch before them forever.

Wild birds sing the sad song of a coming winter as they travel.

They pass several more bends and curves before Quéria nudges August to look up from the ground.

Before him was the town of Staufen. There were perhaps some two hundred families in the settlement. So for a frontiersman as himself, Staufen appeared to be most grand to August.

A wooden palisade bordered the town, fending off any marauding bands of raiders

Most of their homes were made of packed dirt and covered in straw. The poorest inhabited these cold and decrepit enclosings. These homes marked the outskirts of the town.

Further inside were several homes that resembled August's home. They were comprised of primarily cobbled stone, but some were larger and others were more modest.

Atop a small hill was a modest castle where the Count of Taufen ruled his small domain from, though the stone brick structure seemed to tower over the people, and so to August seemed to be a powerful statement made by Count Franc Dublé .

They approached one of the main gates. Quéria was careful to keep her head down so as to prevent her status an an elf unknown to potentially unsympathetic persons.

A guard in the tower motions for a drawbridge to be opened so the two may enter the town. The travelers enter the walls and once inside a group of soldiers approach them.

"You wouldn't happen to be traveling with an elf would you, boy!?" a guard berates August.

Another guard pulls off Quéria 's hood revealing her long silky blond hair and pointed ears.

A soldier dressed more extravagantly then the rest commands the troop, "Take them to the castle immediately."

And so the boy and the elf are searched and disarmed before being dragged to the top of the hill where Count Albert lived.

All the while the village gawked at the days excitement.

The two are then carried over a moat and through another gate, this one made of stone.

Before they realize what happened they are carried across a courtyard, down a hall, through a set of stairs, and cast into a dark and cramped cell. They'd arrived in Taufen....