Along the arch stood two Mathosian campers,
who watched her as she approached.
“Be welcome; but remember, we have our eyes
on you. Keep your nose clean.” The woman said.
They had the air of wardens or
marshals. Both were dressed in a similar
uniform and held torches and weapons.
Between them was a small camp fire with two bed rolls.
“Aye,” The second warden said, a man. “Consider your next steps carefully, traveler. The road ahead leads into Gloamwood, a forest
where outsiders don’t often feel welcome.”
Anneleigh nodded her thanks to the two
guards.
“Brougan Grote of Argent glade has sent me
to assist Gloamwood with their Goblin situation.” Anneleigh explained. “I am not afraid.”
“This road leads to more than goblins.” The
woman said.
Anneleigh considered the two guards for a
moment. Something about this whole
situation made her skin crawl.
“Who are you?” She asked, hoping she
sounded a little more gracious than she felt.
The man spoke first. “I am Waykeeper Freden, one of the watchers
of the road. The waykeepers of Gloamwood
make sure the horrors of the Gloam stay in the shadows. It is my honor to defend the people of
Gloamwood Pines, but I’m not about to go running off the path to save some
inept outsider who steps into a barghest den.”
Anneleigh nodded. She didn’t have the slightest idea what a
Barghest was, but if even the Guard did not want to approach one, they must be
something to be avoided.
“If you insist on entering Gloamwood,” The
woman said, “take this path west, and you’ll find Gnarlwood post. If you’re looking for work, as you say that you
are, I’m sure someone there will be able to provide some.”
Anneleigh turned to leave. The woman spoke of nothing more than common
sense. Of course the road would be the
safest place. That is true of any
woods. Anneleigh smiled softly, unable
to shake the feeling that these Waykeepers were placed here to frighten off
outsiders with their tales of horror and danger.
As she was just about to reach the other
side of the arched gateway, the man’s voice reached her. “If you still venture forth, then take this
fair warning – Beware the witch of the wood.
She often wanders the deep roads, looking for consorts to sire her
children. If you hear screams from the
deep shadows, run back to the torchlight and be thankful she did not pick you.”
Anneleigh raised her eyebrows and continued
to walk. It was true that the light
seemed unable to penetrate the high canopy, casting long dark shadows and a
pale gloom to the area, but that was no reason to believe in witches and
magic. The vigil safeguards all magic
except that of planar magic, and the Goblins of the Wonton were of the fire
plane. They would be unable to create this
darkness with their skills; a forest-fire, yes, but not darkness.
Although she was not afraid of the dark, as
the continued along the path, the shadows and eerie silence began to unnerve
her. She walked slowly and peered into the
darkness. All she found were trees,
squirrels and the occasional bird.
Really, this forest was not much different from Silverwood. In some areas of the woods she even saw the
same wooden tree sculptures created in Silverwood by the spirit of Tavril. Anneleigh wondered if Silverwood had once
stretched out and included Gloamwood as part of one great forest.
“How long has this forest been so tainted?”
She wondered to herself, for surly any woods left to grow in the guardianship
of Tavril could not have ended up so dark.
Finally she came to a distance where she
could see the soft glow of a fire and wardstone and knew she was must be
nearing Gnarlwood post.
She approached the settlement and was greeted
by another Waykeeper.
“Heed me, traveler. Beware shadows in the gloam of never return
home.” She said.
Anneleigh ignored her and approached
instead a woman dressed in Sanctum guard attire.
“Pardon my intrusion,” Anneleigh said, “but
Brougan has sent me from Argent Glade.
He wished me to assist you.”
The woman smiled. “Well, we have a lot of work to do, and time
is short. Let’s get down to
business. Gloamwood shelters untold numbers
of dangerous horrors, yet our lines are spread thin and our ranks need
bolstering. Marshal Oakheart is looking
for champions who will fight in the face of any adversary!” The woman smiled again, making Anneleigh feel
uncomfortable.
“Has word spread so quickly?” Anneleigh mumbled. She was worried about living up to her
reputation. The spirit of Tavril and the
Vigil had helped her. She was not
capable of working such tasks on her own.
Yet if news of her defeat of Kongeegon has spread beyond the boundaries
of Silverwood, she would now be looked upon as the Champion of Silverwood, able
to defeat any enemy.
The Guardian continued to smile. “Yes, Ascended. Sanctum has spread the news of your conquest
as far north as Iron Pine Peek and as far south as Lantern’s Hook. Please, seek out our stalward leader in
Gloamwood Pines. We are in need of your
assistance.”
Anneleigh smiled slightly and nodded her
consent before turning to leave Gnarlwood Post.
She continued along the path, following signposts to Gloamwood Pines. As she crested the final hill, the sprawling
village came into view. Dotted along the cliff face were many small
homes that appeared to defy gravity. Villager’s
homes filled every space, including the treetops. Below the village, a large quarry and canyon
held a high river and lake concealing its true depth. Anneleigh had never seen a city like this
and, although it did not compare to Sanctum, she was in awe of its scale and
uniqueness.
She continued along the path into the
village. As homes and shops became denser
around her Anneleigh realized she had not seen a single person. In fact, now that she was aware of it, she
noticed villagers ahead of her seemed to be leaving the streets, returning to
their homes and closing curtains and shutters. She turned a corner and caught a woman off
guard.
“Why don’t you go back to where you came
from, High Elf, before you bring the curse of the wood down on our heads?” She
spat as she hurried into her home and slammed the door.
Anneleigh almost laughed, but restrained
herself and quickened her pace. Soon the
villagers were not quick enough in their departures to avoid her.
“Your kind isn’t welcome in our woods,
Stranger.” One man called.
“Why don’t you go back to where you came
from before something bad happens?” Shouted yet another as she steered her
children inside.
And so the insults continued until
Anneleigh was finally away from the residential district of the Pines. She approached the edge of the Canyon and a
Waykeeper who guarded the bridge across.
“Why do they hate me?” she wanted to ask,
but her thoughts were interrupted by the woman.
“Don’t cause any trouble, and I won’t cause
you any trouble. Do we understand each
other, Stranger?” The waykeeper said in
a flat voice.
Anneleighs curiosity propelled her forward,
over the narrow and rickety bridge of plank and rope, and into the heart of the
village.
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