At Morrowgale

It was half past noon when I finally arrived at Morrowgale. A small wooden gate stood in front of me, with what looked like two armed guards at the front, one on the left, and one on the right. They carried spears and round wooden shields, their armor was padded, though I could see small traces of leather underneath. Their helmets were iron cast, I could tell that much, of what quality, I could not be sure. Both wore what looked like heavy furs, their colors matching my own. I continued forward, keeping my sword at my side as a soft snowfall began. The guards could see me now, as their heads turned towards me. The one on the left, whom I could now see was a woman, held up her spear.

"Hold, Warden." She said, she was young, from the sound of her voice. I heeded her demand and held, the clinking of my armor ceasing as I did. The guard looked back to her companion and said something, I was too far away to hear what. The other guard nodded and walked towards a section of the wall surrounding the gate. I saw him knock sequentially on a piece of the wall, which then opened into a small doorway. The last thing I saw of him was him stepping through, upon which the doorway was closed. A false door for guards, I had seen it many times before. I turned my attention back to the first guard, she was marching to me steadily.

"What business does a Warden have in Morrowgale?" She demanded as she held her position. I could see her more clearly now, a blonde braid fell past her shoulder, and she appeared weary, tired. I could only wonder how long she had been out here.

"I seek only refuge from the cold. An inn, some food and drink. A blacksmith for my armor and sword, if you have one." I responded. The guard seemed to ponder my words. Her eyes shifted, eyeing me from top to bottom. I couldn't tell if she believed me or not. A moment of silence passed between us as she passed judgment. Finally, she spoke again.

"You carry no colors. What legion are you sworn to?" She asked. I had stripped away my armor of the Blackstone marks long ago, and still had yet to replace them. Still, with how the people saw the Blackstone Legion, as warriors who saved the people from the Vikings, I could not say this. But I would not lie to her, so I would instead tell a different story, but one that was true nonetheless.

"I serve no Legion. My old master abandoned her honor. She left innocent children to starve, and slaughtered their mothers. I could not fulfill my oaths serving such a master, so I left." I responded. The guard narrowed her eyes and adjusted her head.

"And yet you have blood upon your armor. Who have you been killing while serving no master?" She asked. It was a fair question, if not a little unwarranted. Still, I could understand why she asked this question, she did have a town to watch over.

"I was approached by bandits while I was on the road. They demanded my coin and my sword. I refused, and so they attacked me." I said back. The guard nodded and tilted her head slightly, seeming to ponder my words. Once again, silence passed between us. I looked to the gate, and noticed a small group of archers now atop the wall. There were five of them, and none of them had drawn on me yet. I hoped to keep it that way.

"Good that you disposed of them then. We've been having a problem with bandits." The guard finally said. I simply nodded in return. I had fought many bandits in my life, but it seemed they were growing rampant recently. The guard took a step back, but did not break eye contact with me. She wasn't satisfied just yet, I was sure. There was yet another period with no words as she seemed to ponder her thoughts. I wondered what she would ask next.

"What do you really want here, Warden? You serve no Legion, no Warlord, and wander the land killing bandits? Tell me. Why are you really here?" She asked. I was taken slightly aback by this question. I could not tell if she did not believe me, or simply wanted to confirm what I had already said. Either way, I would not lie. So I repeated myself.

"I seek shelter. Food, a warm place to sleep, and a blacksmith, if you have one." The guard seemed not to like this answer very much. I could see the look in her eyes growing skeptical. She needed a show of faith, one that would prove my intent. And I intended to give her one. Slowly, I took the sword from my side, holding one hand in front of me to show I had no intent of using it. The guard raised her spear regardless, and I could hear the pulling of several bows from the archers on the wall beyond. I couldn't blame them for being cautious. With one fierce shove, I plunged my blade into the cold earth, a soft crunch of snow and dirt confirming it's penetration.

The guard watched me still, and so I released the grip on my hilt, leaving the steel lodged in the ground. I walked forward, towards the guard, unarmed, and out of the comfortable reach of my sword, should she choose to attack. Of course, my armor would likely protect me in that case, but hopefully this show of faith was enough. Just in case it was not, I spoke once more.

"I mean no harm to you or your home, I only seek rest. Please." The guard lowered her weapon, but did not lower her gaze. She eyed me a moment longer, as if to test my resolve. I began to wonder if I should have kept my sword, based on how little she seemed to trust me. Perhaps I should retrieve it, I thought to myself. If this turns against me, I need to be able to defend myself. I fought against these thoughts, and simply stood before the guard, the cold seeming to grow more and more intense across my body. Finally, the guard relaxed, her posture dropping from a guarded stance to one more open. She nodded at me, and I nodded back.

"It's ten silver for entry." She said. A lower fee than I had expected, a fact I was more than grateful for. Silver still held much value in Ashfeld, even with steel being so highly valued. With even gold being valued at ten silver per piece, I considered myself lucky for such a low sum. I reached for a coin purse resting along my waist, untied it, and counted out ten silver in front of the guard. She shifted her spear to her shied arm, and extended her now free hand to me. I took the final few steps between us and placed them gently in her hand. She stepped away from me for a moment, observing the coin in her hands. Checking their authenticity, most likely. I did not go for my sword just yet, another show of faith on my part. The guard took one of the pieces and pocketed it, a commision, perhaps. She took the spear back in hand, and gave a soft salute by raising it in the air slightly.

"Can never be too careful these days. Welcome to Morrowgale, Warden." She said, I nodded and turned to my sword, pulling it from the ground as I heard the grinding of wood. Looking back, I watched as the guard marched to the gate, the archers began making their way down from the wall. I wiped the dirt snow from my sword before placing it back at my side and walking past the trees, past the guard and past the gate. In front of me was a small row of wooden buildings, with other armed guards standing post and making their way through the town. Some of them saw me, and gave a nod in my direction, I nodded back. Several feet beyond that, was the town of Morrowgale.

Even in the cold of winter, the sounds of conversation, moving wagons, shouting men still reached my ears. Men and women with shovels moved snow from the dirt streets, while passers by moved freely with various bags, bricks, or furs in their hands. Some were accompanied by children, who I could see playing with toys in various shapes and sizes, like those of animals. The houses were of standard make, clay, soil, and likely less savory elements. Snow covered the roofs, though I noticed someone on top of one of them with a shovel, half cleared. I hoped he was paid well for his efforts.

From the looks of it all these houses were just standard dwellings, which seemed unusual to me. Oftentimes I would find the tavern or an inn somewhere near the front of the towns and villages I stayed at. From this I could guess that Morrowgale did not get many travelers. Perhaps the center of town would be the better bet, or perhaps I just hadn't traveled far enough yet. As these thoughts came to me, I came to notice the sound of some sort crashing beside me, followed by a cry of pain and a startled yell. Turning to the noise, I saw what looked like a man and a young girl standing in front of a cart, loaded with goods.

The girl looked no older than ten, with a brown braid falling down to the center of her back. Her face was pale, dotted by a few freckles. Currently, she was on the ground, looking to be in pain and holding her ankle. The man, likely her father, shared her brown hair and freckles, along with a short goatee, perhaps in his mid 30s. The man knelt beside his daughter, holding her leg and inspecting it, a hint of worry in his eyes. I looked to the other town denizens, and saw some stop to look, but none of them stopped to help the girl or the man. I could never understand why they didn't help their countrymen, then again, they likely were not raised the way I was.

I turned and made my way to the man, calling out to him.

"Are you alright there?" I asked. Hearing me, the man looked up to face me, revealing matching brown eyes to his hair. His eyes widened as he saw me, and instantly stood up, as if to pay respect.

"Sir Warden!" He said as he raised his right hand and placed it to his heart. I raised my own hand and dismissed the gesture.

"No, it's alright, tend to your daughter." I said. The man looked at me for a moment, then back to his girl. Kneeling down, he started to check her over again, pressing gently upon her injury. The girl yelped out and attempted to pull away from where he grabbed, though her father's grip held.

"It hurts!" She cried. The father turned to her and took her hand, her voice was tearful, and clearly pained. I knelt down beside them and looked her leg over. At a glance, I couldn't tell what was wrong, cloth pants blocked any possible injuries, with no signs of blood.

"Is she okay?" I asked.

"She's fine Sir Warden, just fell down is all." The man replied. This wasn't the first time I had been blatantly lied to like this. He was trying not to waste my time, as he thought. He thought I was superior to him, not someone trying to help. I would have to convince him that this was not true.

"Just Warden is fine, what's wrong?" I said. He blinked and reared his head back slightly, he seemed confused, worse yet, unnerved. Perhaps I was too direct...

"I want to help." I said. The man still seemed confused, but the unease seemed to fade from his face. He took a breath and looked back to his daughter, who had started crying now. The man wiped the tears from her eyes and sighed.

"Leg's been bothering her for over a week, it hurts her to even walk on it." He said. Now I reared my head back, resting my arm along my knee. Why would she be taking this task if she were injured? Was it merely that this shipment was that important? I looked at the cart and observed it more closely. From what I could see, it carried winter crops, and a few barrels, filled with fish, most likely.

"So why carry this cart?" I asked. The man looked back to the cart, shook his head and groaned.

"It's our livelihood. We supply the Walking Trout with ingredients for their meals." He explained, pointing further along the road.

"The Walking Trout?" I asked as I stood and looked down the main road. In front of us were various townsmen walking forward, bundled up in furs. I noticed that some few blocks down was what looked like a sign, though I could not discern what it said. Turning back to the man, I heard him chuckle as he adjusted himself. He grunted with effort as he picked up his daughter, carrying her towards the cart. I followed them.

"Right, not from around here. It's a tavern that most travelers stay at when they pass through. Good food, warm fires, the like." He said as he began to hoist his daughter up. The girl grunted with effort as she grabbed hold of the cart and climbed inside, knocking a few of the vegetables over as she half-fell inside. The man held his hand out for her a moment longer, before sighing and rubbing his hands together. I nodded as I followed him back to the front of the cart.

"I see. Well, why don't I help you get it there?" I offered. The man stopped in his tracks, and turned to face me. He looked as though he wasn't sure to laugh, or to bow.

"I uh... Are you sure, Warden?" He asked. I nodded my head as I placed my sword in one of the leather loops hanging from the armor around my hip, and took one half of the handles and began to lift. When I felt resistance, I looked back up to the man and motioned to the other handle. He still seemed unsure, so I decided to ask his name.

"Do you have a name?" I asked. He blinked a few times before snapping back to his senses, and jutting forward to grab the handle.

"It's uh, Jonathan, sir. My daughter there is Delilah." With a growl of effort, the two of us lifted, the cracking of wood and the slight startled gasp of Delilah filled my ears. Once I had lifted the cart, I looked to Jonathan, who gave me a nod and began to pull. I pulled with him, the wheels grinding against the stone and snow for a moment before it lurched forward, sending us into a steady stroll to the tavern.

"A pleasure to meet you, Jonathan." I said. From the sides of my vision, I could see him nod his head as the wheels of the cart gave off a steady sound of groaning as it resisted our movements, but was pulled along regardless.

"And you as well, Warden. Thank you for your help." He said. I nodded in response, and asked another question as we continued to pull the cart.

"Have you no son to help with this cart?" Jonathan grunted as he hit a small bump, slowing our progress for a moment before we righted our movements.

"No, I do, Gabriel. But he and his mother have fallen ill, some sort of sickness. They grow weaker and cough through the entire day. I have ordered him to rest until they recover. Delilah offered to help in his stead." He said as he motioned his head back to the girl. I looked behind me, and saw Delilah still rubbing her injured leg. She noticed me, smiled and gave a small wave as the snow got caught in her hair. I gave a small wave in return, and she returned to her leg.

"I'm sorry to hear of your sick family. They will be at the center of my prayers tonight." I said to him, looking in his direction. He met my gaze, a look of gratitude in his eyes as he nodded and gave a soft smile.

"Thank you, Warden." He said. We carried the cart the remainder of the blocks in silence, until another man came into view outside the tavern. This man was much larger than Jonathan, a frame that had likely gotten more than a few meals from the tavern. He had shoulder length brown hair, and had an unkempt beard that came down to his chest, with a few wrinkles along his matured face. He walked to greet us as we approached.

"Jonathan, I was worried you'd gotten lost!" He called out. His voice was boisterous, and full of energy, almost as if he was unaffected by the cold around us. I set down the cart as Jonathan smiled and walked forward to greet the man. In turn, I walked to the front of the cart and extended my hand out to Delilah. She gingerly took it as I overheard the men's conversation.

"No, David, nothing like that. Delilah just hurt her ankle." Jonathan said. I helped Delilah down from the cart, eliciting a small whimper of pain as she put pressure on her bad leg. I turned to face the men, seeing the larger of the two, who I suspected was David, marching towards me. I noticed now that he stood at least a head taller than Jonathan, who was only slightly shorter than me.

"Ah, that's no good. Well, I see you found a Warden to help you out!" He said loudly, a smile on his face as he placed his hands on his hips and observed me. There was a faint smell of mead on his breath, as well as what looked like fresh wet marks on the furs adorning him. I simply nodded in response to him.

"Hello." I said. The man laughed as he clapped me on the shoulder.

"Well hello to you too, good Warden! I owe you thanks for helping my brother and his girl! Tell you what, you stay here tonight, you stay here for free!" He said. I nodded back to the man, finding myself almost dominated by his speech. Despite his good nature, his attitude was almost exhausting, and I thought that perhaps refusing the man would bring about an equally boisterous rage. So, I deemed it wise not to refuse.

"That is a very kind offer, thank you." I said back. The man chuckled a bit more and shook his head as he walked to Delilah and looked down to her.

"How you doing sweetheart? Leg bothering you?" He asked.

"Yes uncle, it hurts really bad." She responded. He chuckled again and knelt down. With one swift action, he grabbed a hold of her and lifted her off her feet. Delilah let out a soft squeal of surprise, then a laugh as David laughed along with her.

"That's no good, no good at all! Let's get you inside sweetheart." He said as he carried her through the door of the shop. Jonathan watched them leave before making his way back over to me, a smile on his face. He held out his arm to me. I clasped onto his hand, and he clasped onto mine as we shook.

"Thank you again Warden, I won't forget this kindness." He said. I shook my head and patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, Jonathan. It was what any decent man would do." I responded. Jonathan laughed as he turned away from me and walked towards the entrance of the tavern. I followed him in as he pushed the door open, revealing a large, bustling room of men and women eating, laughing, and drinking. Candles adorned the tables of the tavern, with the heads of various animals hanging from walls, while what little light came in from outside shone in from a few glass windows. I saw a woman, no older than 30, playing a lute and dancing atop one of the tables, soft auburn hair flowing as she strummed and recounted a song of some battle. The men around her cheered and slammed tables in rhythm as she leapt to another table, spinning as she laughed and sang. I suppressed a smile as I turned my attention to the bar.

David had sat Delilah onto one of the stools, and I could now hear him barking out orders to one of the keeps to grab the supplies from the front of the shop. The keep nodded in response to him, and tapped one of the men to the side as he made his way to the entrance. I nodded as they walked past me, and they nodded back, though I did hear a whisper of awe when they thought I was out of earshot. I ignored this as I loosened the strap under my chin, and lifted my helmet from my head. The warm tavern air warmed my face as I pulled back the hood of gambeson and mail and allowed my dirty blonde hair to escape their confines. David walked to the bar as he watched me take a seat, and chuckled.

"Well, well, you're the second Knight to visit my little slice of life in less than a week! Fancy that, aye, Warden?" He asked. I furrowed my brow at this slightly. Another knight had been here? I suppose it wasn't impossible, many mercenaries wandered the lands of Ashfeld, but for some reason, it still struck me as odd.

"Another warden passed through here?" I asked as the singing from behind grew louder and more enthused. Some of the men had joined in the singing with the woman. David laughed and slapped the bar in front of me as he turned his back to the array of bottles and barrels behind him.

"Not a warden, no. It was one of them Conquerors, had a skull on his helmet, If you can believe that! Scared one boy half to death!" He said as he grabbed a tankard. "What'll you be having Warden?" He asked. A skull on his helmet? That sounded a lot like... No, it couldn't be, could it?

"Did this Conqueror say his name?" I asked. David took hold of the tankard and turned to face me, a smile still on his lips.

"He did, actually. Stone, he said, and did I believe him! Drank so much he was out like a rock right here on my bar!" He said as he laughed and turned back to the bottles. "But enough about him, what'll you have, Warden?" He asked again, though I barely noticed him. Stone had been a close friend of mine during my time with Blackstone, and was one of the few men I still held respect for in their ranks. But I had been keeping track of Blackstone's movements, they shouldn't have been anywhere near Morrowgale... Had I been tracking them incorrectly? Was I-

"Warden! What'll you have, I said!" David shouted, interrupting my thought. I shook my head and looked back to him, his back still turned to me.

"Sorry, cider, if you have it." I responded. He nodded and walked a few paces to the right, opening the tap from one of the barrels. I had to know more, perhaps the Blackstone Legion wasn't as far away from me as I had hoped...

"This Stone, was he with the Blackstone Legion?" I asked. David actually scoffed at this as he topped off the tankard and flipped the tap off.

"Blackstone? Ha! Buncha liars and brutes they are. No, he wasn't wearing any colors, kinda like yourself actually. A pint of cider for ya, on the house." He said as he slammed the tankard in front of me, partially spilling the drink. I nodded to him and took the mug in my hand, holding it for a moment, pondering my thoughts. What was Stone doing on his own? Had he abandoned Blackstone too? If so, how long ago? Was he safe? I stared into my cider as I had these thoughts.

"Did he say which way he was going?" I asked just before taking a drink of the cider. The drink was sweet and flavorful, if not slightly warm. Still, it was good. David nodded and turned his back to me once again.

"He did, said he was heading off to the east, something about a bandit camp he was tracking down. That was two days ago though, so it's your guess as to how well that went. I do hear he stayed in town one more day though. So, your guess is as good as mine to where he is now." I looked back into my tankard as he said these words, my brow furrowing as I thought.

Stone was still my friend. If he really was on his own, wasn't it my responsibility to find him? If not for any other reason than to keep him safe? True, he was a gifted warrior, but if he travelled alone for too long, I worried that his ego might get the best of him. He was often too proud for his own good, even if his intentions were in the right place. I couldn't stand the thought of him dying alone, the victim of some renegade knight, vengeful viking, or lost samurai. Or worse, eaten by some wild animal. I made my choice then and there. I would leave in the morning, and track down my old friend.

For now though, I would recuperate, and repair my equipment. It was still barely past noon, I was cold, tired, and more than a little hungry from my journey. So for now, I looked around the tavern, saw the same woman dancing atop the table with another man, both leaping and laughing as one sang, and the other hollered along with her, the tables around them cheering her on. Turning back around, I once again lifted my tankard to my lips...

And drank.