Episode 1 – A Name Not Uttered
A gentle wind blew through the village, chilling the late autumn air.The quaint wooded pastures of Norwood were located in the far northern reaches of theEmpire, in the province of Sugauth, away from the gleaming seaside cities. It was a cold land inan empire known for its hot weather, its seaside palms, its flowers and myrtles—the farthest onecan go and still be called an Imperial, as the locals said. Near the center were the town hall, Nick Coldwater’s apothecary, the shambled stonechurch of Terryn, goddess of harvest and home; and the Buckhorn Inn, where our tale begins.A young man named Reev sat at a table, rubbing his hands together by the fire. Theoaks, maples and aspens south of the road formed a beautiful mosaic of dark orange, burnt redand creamy yellow; and the leaves still dripped from yesterday’s rain, glowing like crystals in thesunlight.Lifting his ale stein to his lips, he anxiously waited for the innkeeper, Reek, to bring out atray of his cornbread—known for miles around as the very best in Sugauth. The two Ratlingcooks that ran the Buckhorn Inn, Reek and Neek, took care of Reev while his mentor, Gastreel,was away.He had been gone for over two years now—and it would be three in just a few days.“A plate of baked goodness for Master Reev!” exclaimed Reek as he brought out a hotsaucer. He slid the plate of cornbread and gravy-drizzled turkey on the table. Nearby, a lute-player sang on a varnished stage. The tune he strummed filled the innwith palpable excitement.
Craft me, fairest gypsy lass, A magic spell of arcane pow’r Let my candle brightly glow And when the wick is gone, to hell I’ll go
A man in a gray-green cloak with thick black hair and a beard threw a silver penny at hisfeet. Reev reckoned he had come from the southern coasts; his skin was bronzed, and a buttonemblazoned with an albatross, the symbol of the island city of Peregoth, pinned the cloak together.Outside, the sky had gone dark and the air grew chilly.Constable Goffins, the porcine chief of police, stumbled inside, breaking Reev’sconcentration. His white mustache drooped below his neck. He held a brightly-burning lantern,which illuminated the area around him.“Everything all right, gentlerats?” Neek sprang up from behind the bar. “Peachy,” he said, “Nothing the matter, Constable.”Goffins nodded. “Some people have had trouble coming into town. Be on your guard.
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