To call it a village would have been too generous. A handful of homes clustered together as if for warmth, a dirt track weaving among them. The fields he picked his way across were untended, growing wild now. Avishaan ran his palm over the high grasses, freeing a few kernels of wheat from the dry heads as he walked.
“I’d give the empire for a mill and the time to run it. What about you, Kay?”
The oversized wolf snorted and surged ahead, easily leaping the fieldstone fence and padding into the little settlement. Avishan followed much slower behind. With Kay looking out, his mind was free to wander a bit. What had happened to the people who lived here? Fled north across the sea to Val Royeaux?
Maybe. That seemed a little … Ambitious. These would have been farmers, home to this unnamed place on the Imperial Highway, somewhere between Verchiel and Lydes. Avi imagined it was likely beyond their means to buy passage on a ship. But they’d gone somewhere nevertheless. No wagons. No beasts of burden or evidence of their remains in sight.
Bad news for him. There wouldn’t be much left to glean.
Avishan tried the door on the largest house. Locked. He gave up, broke a window instead and knocked the glass out of the frame with the backside of his gauntlet. Climbed through.
Hope made him try the pantry first, though he had little luck there. A pot of salt, a forgotten jar of something dark and gloopy. A few withered apples in the bottom of a barrel. He spent far too long picking out the seeds to bring to Lirulin. He’d seen her use magic to ripen fruit – might she be able to grow it too? Other useful things vanished into his rucksack as well – a dusty sheep hide, a passable knife.
Then it occurred to him. The old apples might well indicate a living tree. Avishan let himself out the back door, and stepped into what had clearly once been a kitchen garden. And indeed, a few homes down was a large apple tree. Bruise-dark fallen fruit buzzed with insect activity: wasps and butterflies. The boozey, rotting scent of it all was for a moment overwhelming.
@Isla Ros
“I’d give the empire for a mill and the time to run it. What about you, Kay?”
The oversized wolf snorted and surged ahead, easily leaping the fieldstone fence and padding into the little settlement. Avishan followed much slower behind. With Kay looking out, his mind was free to wander a bit. What had happened to the people who lived here? Fled north across the sea to Val Royeaux?
Maybe. That seemed a little … Ambitious. These would have been farmers, home to this unnamed place on the Imperial Highway, somewhere between Verchiel and Lydes. Avi imagined it was likely beyond their means to buy passage on a ship. But they’d gone somewhere nevertheless. No wagons. No beasts of burden or evidence of their remains in sight.
Bad news for him. There wouldn’t be much left to glean.
Avishan tried the door on the largest house. Locked. He gave up, broke a window instead and knocked the glass out of the frame with the backside of his gauntlet. Climbed through.
Hope made him try the pantry first, though he had little luck there. A pot of salt, a forgotten jar of something dark and gloopy. A few withered apples in the bottom of a barrel. He spent far too long picking out the seeds to bring to Lirulin. He’d seen her use magic to ripen fruit – might she be able to grow it too? Other useful things vanished into his rucksack as well – a dusty sheep hide, a passable knife.
Then it occurred to him. The old apples might well indicate a living tree. Avishan let himself out the back door, and stepped into what had clearly once been a kitchen garden. And indeed, a few homes down was a large apple tree. Bruise-dark fallen fruit buzzed with insect activity: wasps and butterflies. The boozey, rotting scent of it all was for a moment overwhelming.
@Isla Ros
10-12-2024, 12:25 PM
