Anima et Forma

Episode 22: Men and Beasts

Romani explorers sailed south, founding colonies along the coast and amongst the volcanic islands west of the continent. Southeastern cities, primarily along the Bihari Strip and the Straight of Bracchus, share Perlisian roots with the Oscani League. Early settlers of the Igni Isles, Burgundia, Milanis, and Jadenar clashed and melded into unique cultures.

Alexander's conquests and the rise of the Holy Order nearly weeded out those ancient roots, but some roots run too deep.

—Brother Donnman, of the Holy Order, "A Brief History of the Western Kingdoms." 1531 A.D.

"Will that be all?" The burly boatman swayed as he stood on his little vessel. Two bulging eyes glared. "I should shove off soon. Bandits–and worse–like to hang around the river, as you know."

Ardwin nodded. "That's all. Tell Mayor Christoff that I send my regards."

"I will." The boatman waved. He shoved off the riverbank with his oar. "Good luck, Ranger!" The man paddled against the current of the Twinstone until becoming a tiny bobbing mote atop the green water. Ardwin scanned the river banks to the north and south before turning west and ascending a soft slope of grass.

Trekking across open terrain, Ardwin found the Old Colonial Road. The Imperial Inquisitors will have elves in their ranks. Their ability to track life essence is too good for Abbot Herman not to utilize. I should avoid any roads and cities. He promptly crossed and broke into a dense forest with a high but barren canopy. Ardwin's feet crunched on the dying leaves that painted the forest floor orange, yellow, and brown. Thankfully, a drizzle of rain and a steady breeze dampened the noise. I'll take my chances with bandits. Then again, if what Morganna told me is true, any elf or halfbreed can track me from leagues away. He passed between the ancient sentinels in their seasonal slumber.

A midmorning fog engulfed him. All those years, I thought I was invisible. He ground his teeth.

There were few bushes or briars. The Burgundian Duke kept the banks of the Twinstone deforested for effortless engagement with enemy troops. Ardwin wished he still had his walking staff, but it was in Ottoburg, along with the rest of his gear and supplies scavenged over the past months.

He found a little spring cutting through a wide valley and walked against its current. The valley narrowed as its walls rose. Ardwin climbed the westward rise and crested its tree-spotted knoll only to spot a plume of smoke rising in the north. Someone's keeping a fire. Curiosity got the better of him, so Ardwin spun, flaring the tail of his cloak and becoming invisible. He passed through a grove of white birches with few leaves clinging to their thin branches.

Ivory gave way to a green pasture. Brown and gray tents circled the clearing. A large fire blazed in the center. Ardwin smelt seasoned pheasant roasting over the flame. Hiding behind a tremendous oak at the edge of the clearing, which marked the end of birch territory, Ardwin watched an old man with a bald head, a bushy gray beard, and a big fat gut limp over to a little boy of six or seven, pick him up, and muss his hair. The little boy laughed. At the other end of the clearing, weaving between tents, a group of children ran around playing chase. Three women in vibrant blue and yellow dresses washed laundry at large copper basins. Refugees? We're a long way from Coblenz. Why are they out here in the wilderness? Ardwin wanted to join them, to take up a false identity and figure out who these people were, but an intuition whispered: it's not worth it.

Two men stood at the edge of the camp, speaking. Ardwin skirted around the encampment, the wind in his cloak carrying him like a silent breeze. Moving from tree to tree, he got within earshot of their conversation. "There'sh another wagon making itsh way down the road," a one-eyed man with few teeth said. "Refugeesh. No guards." He shrugged.