"Where am I now?" The young man said softly to himself as he looked over his tattered map yet again. The soft evening breeze rustled the leaves on the side of the desolate road. Failing light cast itself against the map as dying embers of sunlight faded from the horizon. "This way...." he said softly to himself as he glanced down the road to the left. Carefully replacing the map back into his worn red bag, he began down the left road. Skeletal trees raked at the skies with their bony hands and choked grass scarred the land with rust. "The season of the sun has ended, so has the season of the harvest. Soon winter would be upon them." The young man mused to himself as he approached the small farming village of Remeda. The last remnants of day faded as night cloaked the land. Candles and torches lit the sparse windows as he passed house and farm. He pulled his cap over his ears, covering almost all of his curled dark brown hair.

Boisterous laughter and bellows echoed about the warm tavern. It was a farmer's banquet and a beggars' feast. Farmhands made merriment as ale poured from the taps. "Stranger! Welcome! Join us. It's the last day of harvest and we must celebrate!" the barkeep bellowed at the worn traveler with a worn red bag as he passed around another round of ale. The wanderer stepped up to the bar and let his red bag drop to the floor as he sat down on a bar stool. "Names Ert, Ert Den, What might I call you by?" The barkeep bellowed, not able to suppress his cheer or merriment. "Ran." The Young man said as he pulled his bag up to his lap and began to search through it. "Do you take coins of the realm? I'm afraid they're all I have left." Ran asked over the lights and din of merriment behind him. "Do we take them? They're all we take. None of that elven or dwarven junk." Ert beamed. "Five Silver for food and the night, quite a bargain tonight, all the ale you want." Ert continued as he filled a few more tankards. "Done." Ran replied fishing out a few silver coins and placing them on the counter. "Room three is yours. Don't mess it up." Ert warned as he set a steaming plate of roast boar before Ran. "Don't be so solemn! Tonight's a celebration!" Ert bellowed with laughter as he made his way over to collect the soiled tankards on the other side of the bar.

"At least they don't know me here." Ran mused to himself as he turned and glanced about the room behind him. He noticed a little girl standing almost directly behind him. The light from the fireplace illuminated her blonde hair as she stared at Ran with a great intensity. "Are you an elf?" She asked as she stepped closer. "No, no I'm not an elf. Why do you ask?" Ran softly replied as he turned to face the girl. "She can't be more then eight, how?" Ran asked himself as the girl continued to stare. "You're hat, it tapers to a point. Mommy told me stories about elves and you wear a hat like the ones in the stories." The little girl said softly. "Oh, this hat? I made it. Sorry if it looks elven. It's the only one I have." Ran said hastily as he turned from the little girl. "It's alright; I know not everybody likes elves. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." The little girl whispered as she turned and returned to her parent's table. Ran considered what the girl said. "Maybe, just maybe, Humans aren't that bad." He thought to himself as he started on his meal.

"What's the nearest city?" Ran asked Ert as the night faded on. "Oh, you'll be wanting to go to Sailion then." Ert replied over a tray full of dirty plates. "Sailion? How far is that?" Ran asked over his tankard of ale. "Oh, bout four day's travel on the north road. If you need a lift, you can go with the caravan that leaves tomorrow." Ert wiped his hands on his apron and continued putting dishes to be washed. "I will, thank you." Ran replied as he began to make his way to his room through the crowded tavern. "They leave early and if you're not there they'll leave without ya." Ert warned as he quickly turned to engage the next man in conversation.

"Sailion, sounds familiar. Wonder why it's not on my map." Ran yawned as he unfolded the aged parchment to inspect it again. Carefully repacking the worn red bag, Ran snuffed the candle, plunging the room into darkness and shadow, with sights set on the morrow and on Sailion.