The Village of Pranow / Pt. 5

circa 300 n.t.
Dannaar, Ero'ia

Lleu Danson opened a saddlebag and tucked an extra water canteen into its large pocket. As he re-tied the straps, Walder exited the aging house behind him. He was followed by Marny, their recent hostess.

Walder was in the process of finishing a story, which did not surprise Lleu. He had come to the conclusion shortly after meeting the stocky man that storytelling was one of his favorite pastimes.

Walder and Marny began laughing. The deep base of Walder's laugh echoed off the walls on either side of the muddy road.

"Where is Povl?" asked Lleu, anxious to get moving.

Povl came through the doorway just then. "I'm here. I'm ready." He slung a pack of his personal belongings over his shoulder. "Where is our guide?"

Lleu noted the quiver in Povl's voice, but it was Walder who asked gruffly, "What's got you all jittery this morning?"

"Jittery? Me?" Povl laughed in spite of himself. He left Marny's steps and took the reigns of his horse from the stable boy.

"I know what it is," the boy commented, "he's scared of going into the Hon-abrels today."

"Do me a favor," Povl snapped, "and keep your opinions to yourself."

The boy seemed unoffended. "Well you better get your nerves settled soon; otherwise you could make your mare skittish. And the last thing you'll want in those mountains is a skittish horse."

"Right," Walder added, "she'll buck you off just as some monster is comin' at us. And i'm sorry, my friend, but at that point I'll be heading the opposite direction. I'd sooner let you be eaten than give anything a chance to get a taste of my-"

Lleu interjected, "Enough! This kind of talk is not benefiting us." He grabbed hold of his saddle and swung himself up onto his horse. He looked back at Povl. "Everything is going to be just fine. The Hon-abrel Mountains are just that, mountains. Same goes for the myths and lore that come from them."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that-" the boy began again, but promptly stopped when he saw the warning look on Lleu's face.

Povl mounted up, and then pointed up the road between the rows of villagers' homes. "Is that our guide?"

Lleu turned to see Garst trotting toward them on a roan stallion with a thick mane. A bow and quiver were slung over his shoulder, and a short, but wide-bladed sword dangled at his side. Close behind him followed two pack mules.

Lleu was noticing the absence of the large feline when she suddenly appeared in his view, having been hidden behind the mules. She made two long bounds, bringing her quickly along side the roan, which seemed surprisingly comfortable with her presence.

"Uldon's Hammer," Walder exclaimed as he tried to keep a hold of his now-unsettled horse. "What is that unnatural terror?"

As Lleu and Povl attempted to settle their own steeds, Lleu managed to respond, "That, unbelievably, is his pet."

Garst reigned in before them and nodded to Lleu.

"Mother's mercy, man!" Walder pointed at the creature. "There are children in this village!"

Garst looked down on Walder, regarding him with impatience.

Walder grumbled to himself as he removed a heavy double-bladed axe from under one of his saddlebags. "Guess I'll be keeping this close," he muttered.

Garst raised an eyebrow. "Do you even know how to use that?"

"Do I know how to use this?" Walder sounded offended. He thumped his chest once. "I served as a footman in the King's Army for four years, I'll have you know."

"Hmm," Garst was unimpressed. He looked back at Lleu. "Is this everyone then?"

"Yes," Lleu replied. He indicated Povl behind him. "This is Povl Flannr," he then nodded toward Walder, who was finally climbing on top of his horse, "and that is Walder Hagen."

Povl moved his mare alongside Garst and offered to shake hands. But instead of returning the offer, Garst just placed the reigns of the pack mules into Povl's open hand.

"You're now in charge of these stubborn animals." He turned his roan about and nudged him into a trot. He shouted over his shoulder, "Keep a tight hand on them, they tend to wander."

Povl looked over at Lleu in irritation. "He's the best you could come up with?"

"There wasn't much of a selection," Lleu responded, then kicked his horse to follow after Garst.

Walder expressed his gratitude for Marny's hospitality, then he and Povl kicked their steeds into gallops.

The Village of Pranow / Pt. 4

Circa 300n.t.
Dannaar, Ero'ia

Geena, a middle aged woman who lived alone in a small cottage a short distance outside of Pranow, extended her outstretched hand toward a small log. Her other arm strained under the stack of firewood that she intended to add one more piece to. She stretched a little too far and found herself now off balance, with the load of wood slipping off her arm.

Suddenly she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, steadying her. She looked up in surprise to stare into the rich green, sad eyes of a man she recognized too well.

"Garst..." She righted herself. "I didn't hear you approach. You startled me." She forced a smile. "Thank you. Your assistance was timely."

Garst nodded uncomfortably. She seemed to be aging more steadily of late. Her long blonde hair was now completely greyed. Yet she was still several years from fifty. Even her eyes, which were once a lively blue, had become less and less vibrant over the past few years.

Garst looked at the firewood in her arms. "Let me help you with that." He reached toward the stack.

Geena hesitated, not wanting to appear incapable. But the weight was biting into her forearm. She let him remove the wood from her arms. "Again, thank you."

She led the way around the cottage to the door. He followed quietly.

Once inside she pointed toward the hearth. "You may place it there, beside the mantle." While he did so she removed her old cloak and hung it on a hook next to the door. Then she took down an apron from the same location and began tying the strings behind her back.

"Can I get you some hot tea, Garst?" she asked cordially as she opened up a cupboard door at the far end of the single room cottage.

Garst finished piling the firewood and then stood upright. He stared at her silently for a moment without responding.

"Geena," his voice carried a somber tone. "I am going back in."

"Geena paused, her back still to Garst. She looked down at the herbs in her hands blankly, her thoughts losing focus as they made their way to distant places in her memories.

"When?" she asked softly.

"Today."

"Today..." she repeated absent-mindedly, her gaze still on the herbs. She then shook her head slightly, bringing her focus back to the task she had been about to perform. She turned around and, without looking at him, dropped the herbs on the table to begin crushing them.

"I am going to find him," Garst said seriously. "I am going to find your son, Geena."
Geena slammed a clenched fist down on the table. "Enough is enough, Garst!" The sudden outburst of emotion surprised even her.

She placed a hand on her forehead in frustration. "I am sorry. I...I didn't mean to..." She turned away from him without finishing.

Garst's expression became one of anger. "I know that you have held resentment toward me for what happened to Keftin, and probably still do. But there was a time when you held onto hope that he still lived. There was a time when you believed in me!"

Geena whirled around. "I had no choice! My son, my only son, was gone! What was there left to do? He was the only person I had left, Garst!" She began to sob. "I couldn't help it... I had to hope. I was going insane at the thought of him gone."

Garst crossed the room and embraced her, allowing her to bury her face against his chest and cry.

After some time her sobs slowed. She pushed away from him, and then used her apron to dab her eyes and clear away the tears. "I can't go on with this charade, though." She sniffed, her nose now reddened from crying. "Twelve years has been plenty of time to come to terms with the fact that my son is dead."

"Geena, I do not believe-"

"Please, Garst..." She looked away as she held up a hand to silence him. "Please...just stop."
Garst stared at her sadly for a moment, and then walked slowly to the door.

Before exiting, he looked back over his shoulder, wanting to speak. His mind struggled with the words. None came to his lips. In frustrations, he suddenly opened the door and left her cottage without speaking another word.

Geena walked to the open doorway and watched him go.

The Village of Pranow / Continuation of Pt. 3

Circa 300n.t.
Dannaar, Ero'ia

"Have you business, or is your purpose simply to gawk?"

Lleu indicated the creature beside Garst. "Is is safe for me to dismount?"

Garst scratched behind one of the cat's ears. "Elna, make yourself scarce." The large feline looked up at her master questioningly, but Garst did not take back his command.

The cat turned and looked at Lleu once more before crouching and then leaping with lengthy bounds into the dark woods.

Garst looked Lleu up and down, evaluating the stranger, and then indicated for him to follow. "Come on in if you like. I have a fire going. You're welcome to warm yourself." He turned and strode back into the shack.

Lleu dismounted and followed, while nervously glancing about so as not to be caught unawares by Garst's pet.

The interior of the shack was in much the same condition as the exterior. It was obvious that this man Lleu came here to seek was little concerned with cleanliness or organization. Nor did he bother with accessories or luxuries. By way of furniture, the single room shack was equipped with only a table, chair, bed, and a few shelves fixed to the walls. Atop the shelves were basic food items. A half-loaf of bread, a wooden cup, and a wooden bowl were all that adorned the feeble table. Clothing items, various tools, and wood scrapings littered the floor, but Garst paid it all no mind as he walked to the far side of the shack and heavily sat down on the edge of his bed.
Lleu remained in the doorway until Garst pointed toward the chair next to the table.

"Sit there if you want." Garst then picked up a knife, and with the other hand reached down and brought up a wooden shaft that he had apparently been carving at.

Lleu stepped over dirty clothes and made his way to the chair. "Thank you for inviting me in."

Garst ran the blade along the shaft, stripping thin slices of wood away with repetitive strokes. He watched the stranger closely without saying anything.

Lleu cleared his throat uneasily. "Well, uh..." he wrung his hands together, finding it suddenly hard to speak. "Where do I start?" The setting, combined with the sound of steady knife strokes, and the intimidating stare from a man that was considered cursed, unnerved Lleu.

He cleared his throat again. "I am in need of a guide, and I understand you are the best choice."

"That's what you understand, huh?"

Lleu nodded. "Actually...you are the only choice that I am aware of."

Garst paused in his work. "You're going into the Hon-abrels?"

"Allow me to explain." Lleu sighed, trying to relax a little. "Some time ago I found a necklace in Daelom's River. It is a unique piece that I believe came from somewhere in those mountains-"

"So," Garst laughed shortly, "you're a treasure hunter."

"No," Lleu defended. "Not at all. I mean, I see where it could be interpreted that way, but I assure you-"

"It means little to me either way," Garst interrupted, "so don't waste your breath."

He rose from where he was sitting and walked over to a shelf to retrieve a small box. "I am not going to take you anyway." He then extended his hand that held the box toward Lleu. "Gunnhil Bark?" he offered.

Lleu declined silently, his gaze toward the floor. Garst took out a chunk of the bark, rolled it up tightly, and then walked over to the fireplace.

As he held one end of the rolled bark into the fire Lleu shifted in his seat in order to address Garst again. "Are you truly going to dismiss me so fast? Without even hearing me out?"

"Yes." Garst held the smoldering roll up to his lips and took in a puff.

"But why?"

"It is not a good idea... you in those mountains."

"How can you make such a judgment? You don't know me."

"But I do know the Hon-abrels." Garst leaned against the mantle of his fireplace and stared into the flickering flames. "Besides, there is nothing in there worth risking your life..."

Lleu began rummaging through the pockets of his tunic. "You must see the necklace." He found what he was lookng for and drew out a closed fist from one of his pockets. "It is truly unique...entirely foreign. So much so that it will make your imagination dance." He stood up and opened his hand so that Garst could see the necklace.

Garst irritably looked away from the flames so that he could humor his guest. But when he saw the necklace his expression changed. They stood in silence for a brief moment while Garst stared down at the item in Lleu's open hand.

"Where did you say you found that?" Garst asked, his voice low and slightly hoarse.

"I fished it out of the river just south of Daelom's Gorge."

"Daelom's Gorge, you say?" Garst suddenly rushed over to his bed and dropped to one knee so that he could reach underneath. He drew out crinkled up maps and then laid them on the table.
Lleu watched curiously as Garst attempted to smooth one of the maps out.

Garst studied it for some time.

Lleu stepped closer to look at the map as well. It was not professionally done; he guessed that it was probably Garst that had drawn it. The area was unfamiliar to him though, so he straightened back up and patiently waited. He took the change in Garst's behavior as a positive sign.

Garst muttered to himself for a moment as he traced his finger along a line that Lleu assumed was indicating a river. Suddenly he slammed his fist down on the table. "Why didn't I think of that before?"

He pushed the first map off the table and began studying another. He subconsciously rubbed his chin with one hand, occasionally glancing toward the open doorway, deep in thought.
Lleu offered, "Is there anything I can do?"

Garst, apparently having forgotten that he had a guest, looked at Lleu blankly for a few seconds. He shook his head. "No, no." He then ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. "I apologize. I got distracted for a moment."

"I can't help but ask, is the necklace familiar to you?"

Garst walked to the doorway and stared out into the night air. He did not answer. Instead, after another long pause of silence, he asked, "When could you be ready to leave?"