Teilo breathed in the humid air. He looked out over the ridge on which he had built his house, across the horizon, the lush mountains, and the sweeping fields. A thick fog covered the valley, where Tielo called his home. He kept sheep in the valley, and grew barley in the fertile soil of the foothills.
He picked up the last bushel and loaded it into the back of the wagon. He was delivering his weekly barley delivery to the Drunken Dragon tavern, in the heart of Strufield.
"Yah, Freya!" He shouted into the morning air, whipping the reins. His horse kicked into action. The wagon creaked to life and began rolling down the old dirt path along the ridge.
The wagon rolled across the dirt pathway and down a shallow hill, into the valley. He looked around at the mossy trees which engulfed one edge of the valley. The lush, green mountains shot up around the valley, piercing the gray clouds. The thick grass still wet with dew, crunched under the wooden wheels.
As Tielo rode through the clearing, his flock of sheep bustled around. Nobody ever accused them of being smart animals, but they knew to stay off the path when the wagon came through. Their thick coats of wool brushed against the sides of the wagon. One particular ewe, Jumper, dashed up to Tielo, wagging her black tail, which stuck out in her white coat. "Woah, Freya," He said as he tugged the reins. "Come on up, Jumper." He looked down at the young ewe, she should be able to jump onto the wagon, but her skinny legs quivered as she tried to spring up. She made it about two feet in the air and fell on her back. Tielo jumped from the wagon quickly, Jumper wasn't one to miss a small leap, she had earned her name. He squatted down next to the sheep and flipped her upright again. "What's wrong with you girl?" He patted her sides and gave her a scratch between the ears. She was just a yearling, and hadn't gotten pregnant during breeding season. As a matter of fact, not many ewes had conceived this year. But Jumper shouldn't be acting like this.
Tieo picked her up under his arm, and climbed up onto the wagon again. She was surely sick and he would have to take her away from the others. He whipped the reins, kicking his horse back into motion. As Freya trotted down the trail following the route she always does, the farmer bent down and tied a loose rope around Jumper, attaching her to the wagon so she couldn't escape.
It wasn't a long way into the town of Strufield, so within a third of an hour, Tielo was stopping outside the back of the Drunken Dragon. Dark gray clouds loomed overhead by that time. It looked like rain was coming, but rain would hurt Freya or Jumper. He sprung from the seat of the wagon and his leather boots landed on the cobbled stone.
He walked over to the back side of the tavern, the smell of old wood and honey mead filled Tielo's nose as he drew closer to the open door in the back. He stepped up a small ledge onto the cement floor of the back room, dust hung in the air, a small oil lamp burned away in one corner. "Gareth?" He shouted into the darkness. A moment later, he heard the loud trot of Gareth Lightfoot -a quite ironic name- echoing through the room.
"Finally!" Gareth shouted. He was a stout man, short and round, but spry enough to chase you out of his tavern. "What took you so long with the barley?"
"I had a minor problem with the sheep," Tielo said, as he and Lightfoot took off out the door.
"Them sheep seem to be more trouble than they're worth!" Gareth shouted in a teasing tone. "I reckon you'd best have sold them, by now."
"They're my biggest source of income, living in the cold North. And with the Citadel needing so much meat."
They walked to the wagon, the same wagon they walked to every week during season. Gareth looked up and saw Jumper, laying on the splintering seat.
"What's wrong with my little Jumper?" He said, running up to the young ewe.
"She's sick," Tielo said as he picked up a bushel of grain, resting it on his shoulder. "Had to take her away from the others." He picked up a second on the other shoulder.
Gareth grunted and strode to the back of the wagon. He picked up two bushels under his arms. Tielo turned toward the building just in time to see someone appear in the door. She stood about five and a half feet tall. Her light brown hair cascaded over her shoulder. Her blue eyes glistened with innocence and joy, but worry was written on her pale face. A strand of hair fell onto her rosy cheeks, before it got swept quickly away behind her ear. She wore a simple gray shirt buttoned up around her neck, and a white apron, stained with various shades of brown.
"Mr. Lightfoot!" she shouted, her voice was soft, like velvet. Her quiet yell barely reached the two men.
"What is it, Elaine?" Gareth said through a sort of grunt, as Elaine stepped closer.
"There's this man at the bar- he keeps asking for soup, but we don't have any soup. What do I do?"
"His name is Henry, give him the trout."
"But-"
"Give him the trout, Elaine," Gareth repeated. "But first, come over here and help us with the barley."
Elaine rushed over to the backside of the wagon, her silky hair jumped behind her with every step. She bent down over the wagon and picked up a bushel. It took both arms and most of her body to hold up the grain. She carried it back, with Tielo and Gareth closely behind. She set it on the dusty stone floor of the back room. She stood up straight and breathed deep, trying to catch her breath. Tielo and Gareth set theirs down with ease next to Elaine's.
"Get back to the counter, Elaine," Gareth shouted in his gruff voice.
"She new?" Tielo asked as she rushed from the room.
"Oh, you wouldn't have met her, would ya? She's new in town, I'm letting her stay here, she came a few weeks ago. She was at the butcher's last time you came by. She's a good girl, ambitious when she wants to be." Gareth said. "I'll go get the last bushel, you go get yourself a drink."
Tielo headed through the door Elaine had gone through, it led into the front room, right next to the bar. He sat down on a barstool, these barstools had been made with his sheep's hide back in the day.
"What can I get for you, sir?" Elaine asked, stepping up to where he sat.
"Mead," he said simply.
"Coming right up. I never caught your name by the way," she said as she poured a flagon full of spiced mead. She turned around and set it down on the counter.
"Teilo Hearthfire," he said. And he took to his drink.
OOOOH. I'm excited, are you guys exited? I really hoped you liked chapter, and the new characters! If you did, feel free to vote, comment, maybe even follow (eh?)
Keep reading, because it'll only get better. there's war afoot.
- Krios
