Valder hiked for miles, wrapping himself with his fur cloak to maintain some warmth. His eyes watched his feet to avoid the wind battering his face. When his head finally rose, he found himself in the town of Raven's Rock. Dull was the design of this village except for the fact that it was constructed around a narrow peak hanging high above the wrathful sea. In the center of town, a lofty stone statue of a raven loomed overall. The residents could see Valder was well-traveled but dared not to question him. He required a bed; a couple hours to recharge would serve him well. He shuffled passed market stands and undersized homes until a swaying sign directed him towards an Inn. The tavern was full of drunks, soft toned music, and a fine layer of pipe smoke. Valder had no desire to interact with anyone and every step sent a surge of pain through his aching body. A young maiden with flowing dark hair and tattered clothing commanded the bar. Valder pushed his way through the crowd to meet her. Her tone was easy on Valder's ears. "Can I get you a drink?" "No thanks, but I will take a bed if one's available." He suggested. "There's always a bed open, if you have the coin that is?" Valder peered over his shoulder at the party goers and bowed his head. No coin filled his pockets; in fact, his only possession was the piece of stag antler from his hunt. The maiden placed some mugs of ale of the counter without removing her eyes from Valder. She could notice he had been through some trials to get here. "Find yourself a bed and rest for a while, you can pay later." Valder turned back to her and bowed in his stool. "Thank you." Valder quickly escaped the tavern noise while the bartender watched his movements closely. He locked himself in a small quarter, placing his belongings on a dust covered end table. The bed before him held layers of hay and hide pelts that felt comfortable to the touch. Once his heavy eyes closed, all sound became distant and he fell into a deep slumber. A peaceful rest would not come to him though; nightmares quickly consumed his dreaming state. In this dream, Castor's crow squawked and bounced from the corpses of Valgards. The ice plains of Valahelm were shrouded by great walls of fire and ungodly devilish beasts shifted like shadows through the piles of bodies. Their image was something Valder couldn't describe. He stood alone amongst the dead, witnessing the aftermath of chaos. The paralyzed warrior remained still, and the cluster of demons enclosed. Valder awoke before they could attack. Overlaid by sweat, he lifted himself from the bed and left the chamber. The music along with the many of the population had departed. In the shadows at the edge of the tavern sat a group of adventurers. Valder could barely make out their faces. The maiden from earlier cleaned her bar with a torn rag. She lifted her beautiful face. "Greetings stranger, did you sleep well?" Valder leveled himself on a stool and hunched over the bar unrested. "Not at all." He answered. The maiden returned to cleaning, knocking back her locks of brown hair. She seemed to be in deep thought. "Is something bothering you?" Valder asked. She stopped scrubbing and peered into Valder's eyes. "Life has not been fair to me if you wish to know the truth. My son disappeared years ago, and my husband passed from an illness months later. I wish it had taken me as well. Giving praise to Oaknar is my only relief anymore." With a sigh, she returned her eyes to the dirty surface. She was in her late twenties or perhaps early thirties but there was no doubt she had suffered dearly in this time. Hazel eyes began to puff, and tears formed. Valder straightened himself in the stool and understood this was Axton's mother. The warrior knew her pain. "The world is not kind, but I believe your family is in a better place." The maiden felt the compassion in the words of this stranger. Not many have ever opened up to her, revealing their caring side. "Thank you." She replied and wiped away her tears. "I have been thinking of my family as well." Valder stated. "Could you point me to the nearest Valgard outpost?" "There is one on the edge of town, but you should know that it is empty. They headed for Ice Forge about a day ago to gather resources." She informed. Valder bowed his head and hopes to relay a message faded. The maiden noticed his discomfort and overlaid her hand on his. "If you are going that way, I would like to go with you. It is time for a fresh start; there is nothing in Raven's Rock for me." She stated. "I do not wish to burden anyone with my mission." Valder expressed. "It will be no burden to me, but I must know the man I'll be traveling with?" "I am Valder." "It's a pleasure. I am Bayla, and you Valder owe me for the room. Escort me to Ice Forge and your debt shall be paid." Valder laughed at her statement. "Well than, I guess I have no other choice." "Give me a moment to ready myself." Bayla removed her hand from Valder's and escaped from the bar, entering a wooden door behind her. During this exchange of words, the adventurers had overheard the conversation. From behind three shadows loomed over Valder. The smell of ale masked their breath and Valder clinched a fist, preparing for any trouble.
YOU ARE READING
Legends of Torn: Sword in the Rift
FantasyFrom the remnants of a destroyed nation an ancient evil arises, by the hands of the powerful conjurer Castor. Zoth, the god of corruption is pleased by his awakening and offers his summoner the gift of immortality. But before such a gift can be best...
