"A carpenter could lead a fishing village to success, a blacksmith could lead a farming village to prosperity, and a doctor could provide endurance and strength to any community.

The trust built upon years of helpful medicine had been broken once the first plague broke through the ranks of the common people. Suddenly, the only way to keep the people healthy was to get rid of the sick, and their once saviours have become their executioners."

-Pineal's Guide to Prosperity

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Three carts were strolling through a barely traveled forest path, each drawn by two large bulls with two burly men holding the reins. The path itself was not easily accessible, with only the larger openings between trees and occasional signs and marks along branches and barks providing any indication towards the direction one should take.

One of the carts held an impressive amount of crates and barrels, most filled with dried meat, vegetables and foods of different kinds. The sizeable load made it so the bulls worked overtime, yet the masters were lenient and provided frequent breaks and a slow pace for the animals. As such, this particular cart was in the front, leading the pace for the other two trailing behind.

The second cart was much larger in size and had around 12 people seated on some makeshift benches nailed onto the edges. They were looking rather grim and tired from the weeks spent on the road and constant outdoor camping. Along the middle, separating the two rows of men were smaller and more compact crates holding daily necessities. Pots and pans, a few spoons and cooking knives, a full crate of charcoal, a multitude of pelts and cloths and many more miscellaneous supplies.

In the back was the smaller of the three carts, a shabby looking thing that, other than a driver and a watchman, held three people tied up with thick rope to a wooden pole nailed to the middle. Various other small boxes with livestock feed, a few chickens and ducks taking up the rest of the space.

Two of the men were underdressed for this particular time of the year, having only rags to wear at near freezing temperatures.

The third man was much better dressed and had his hands more loosely tied, without the necessity of using extra rope for the legs as well. After all, who would need to go to such extremes for a one legged man.

Thick, but short black hair with a bloody piece of cloth over his left eye, while his right one was used to look around carefully for any signs as to where they were going. The constant frown did not help improve his image either, or the multitude of cuts along his left cheek. His frame was small, but his body was fit and muscles could be seen if not for the heavy fur cloak and simple leather armor he was wearing. His left leg was missing but he still held his extra boot tied around his waist indicating that the cut was fresh enough that he felt the need to keep it.

“So, why is he so special while we’re freezing out here?” said one of the two freezing men in between chattering teeth.

The watchman smacked him on the back of the head “Unlike you, he came with the clothes. Now quiet down, we’re almost there.”

These two were nothing more than scoundrels - thieves that tried to steal from the caravan along the way. Thievery and banditry was no longer regulated as the world’s human population has been in a constant decline for the past hundred of years or so. Everyone did anything in their power to survive, and it was understandable, but the ol’ ‘survival of the fittest’ applied now more than ever as the balance of the world shifted with humanity losing their initial connection to their gods and the empowerment their benefactors offered.

The caravan’s destination was soon in view - a small outpost at the edge of Lamb’s Forest and very close to a small chain of mountains that extended far into unknown and unowned lands. The outpost itself was situated in a small ‘U’ shaped cavity of the mountain which made for an easily defendable location. It even came with a small peaceful waterfall and a river cutting through the middle that offered water for the settlers.

The wooden wall that provided their defence was nothing more than a row of sharpened logs and spikes buried a few inches into the ground. Past the wall a seemingly lifeless encampment showed itself despite the large defendable area, most likely due to the small number of people that lived there, with only a few tents and huts scattered across. Every resident seemed somewhat lifeless if not sick altogether, further increasing the image of a long abandoned village.

It was certainly peculiar how there were no structures or shelters built despite the obvious fact they have been here for quite a long time. There were one or two rooftops held up by pillars dangling in the wind, supposedly a makeshift shelter to protect from the rain, but nothing to indicate their plans for this place.

Their leader, Alicia Warwick, had struck gold finding this defendable location, and did everything in her power to make sure people could sleep at night without the worry of being overrun by wolves or monsters. She first ordered the walls to be set up and despite the shabby work, it provided just enough defence to not get overrun by wildlife.

That, however, did not help with the creeping sickness that always seemed to be spreading with each approaching winter. Five people died around this time last year, and three more before winter ended.

This year however, it was a couple of months before winter fully hit and they already had twelve deaths while half the camp was sick and constant coughing could be heard throughout. It was a horrible result that came from the fact that they never really recovered from last year, as the sickness only lessened coming summer and never went away for good. With autumn’s chill, the scythe of death showed itself once more and fear that this would become their last winter struck itself into Alicia’s heart.

It wasn’t only her price to pay but it was her burden to bear and solutions seemed to find themselves scarce.

She wasn’t a leader, not in the sense that she knew how to lead a group of survivors. She was nothing but a bandit lieutenant, the voice of their former leader and the one that passed orders from the boss to the masses.

Now, with her former benefactor dead, she found herself in a challenging position of power and, while she’s been definitely overwhelmed, she had found her voice of reason and decided that a change in profession would benefit her people greatly, moving on from mere bandits to settlers.

Where her people used to set traps down roads and ambush merchants and travellers, they quickly learned to use the traps for wildlife and keeping themselves fed and warm through hunting rather than stealing. They also managed to find this more suitable and permanent home so that they did not have to travel pointlessly between unused roads away from patrols but close enough to civilisation to catch unsuspecting people.

Eventually, she found a certain balance in her life, but her inexperience in managing a settlement rather than a bandit camp has shown itself in the slow death of her people and the constant worries and bickering creeping into their daily lives. While before they worried about when the next unfortunate soul passed through their area, now they worry about when the next meal will come.

Yet she somehow managed to hold onto the respect her followers had for her.

Despite being more pleasing to the eye than most women, she had managed to retain a certain amount of reputation as being both fierce and fair in her decisions and orders. Even those that would let themselves be guided by their pricks rather than their brains avoided belittling her name with attempts at reeling her in. She demanded respect, and offered respect just the same.

With only 25 winters on her back, she was in the prime of her life. Her dirty blonde hair fell a few inches below her shoulders, and in combination with her light blue eyes and small nose, it made her look like a she did not belong among the ruffians she commanded. Despite that, her scars and bruises were something she still carried with pride, yet had to hide behind a wall of clothing as the winters were drawing close.Of course, after years of banditry and fighting, she looked somewhat malnourished and tired, yet hopeful as a good leader should present herself.

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Despite the dirty leather clothes and slightly muddy look about her, she was still proud of how she presented herself. It wasn’t easy to keep clean in the middle of the wilderness, but she somehow made it work.

Her mind was as well much more experienced than she showed, her fierceness and her wits helped in a number of difficult situations and struggles. It also helped a lot that her gut feelings were almost always proven to be right.

“Miss Alicia, Arnold’s group is back.” a voice could be heard from just outside her tent.

Getting up and gulping the drink she was mulling over in one swift motion, she took a second to stop her gag reflex as the strong mixture of herbs made their way down her throat while the smell invaded the nostrils. She grabbed her sword, and dagger, threw a ragged looking fur cloak over her shoulders and made her way outside.

The small caravan had stopped near the entrance to the camp, and people were already getting busy checking whatever supplies they brought and making sure to store them properly where they needed to be. They were a smart bunch, everybody worked whenever work was needed and they knew what had to be done.

A much older man made his way towards Alicia just as she arrived. He was scruffy looking, as the years have not been kind to him, but in his eyes was wisdom beyond what anyone else would possibly possess around these parts.

He was Arnold, Alicia’s confidant and most trusted follower.

“Decent haul this time.” he stepped closer until they were within arm’s reach, “The pelts traded for quite a lot, but the coins we had were pretty much worthless, so we got much less than what I hoped to come back with. Damned copper is only as useful now as how far you can throw them.” he reported.

“That’s fine, it was to be expected. There has to be someone who still cares enough for money out there. Hope you didn’t actually throw it away.” she replied peeking behind his shoulder at the three new faces in her camp, tied up to the last cart. “Who’s the new blood?”

“Those two skinny rats tried to steal from us while we camped. One of them tripped and fell as he was poking around our stuff.” he said, turning around and pointing at the two thieves, “The kid ... I honestly don’t know. I sent some of the boys to get us an extra cart in case we needed more space to carry supplies, but when they came back they brought that wagon with the boy tied up to it. Said some weird people gave it to us for free as long as we took the boy with us and as far away as possible.” the old man grunted. “I’ve already smacked those idiots across their heads, but what’s done is done.”

Now that was interesting. The boy was worth enough that someone wanted to get rid of him, but the way it was done seemed somewhat odd. Nowadays it was rather easy to have someone killed and not have to worry about consequences, so the question was, ‘Why is he still alive?’. Why not just get rid of him and be done with it?.

Alicia was not big on inviting trouble, but the kind of trouble he presented was possibly an extra mouth to feed or someone dangerous looking for him, in which case she would just give him up and be done with it.

Nevertheless, he was an interesting enigma, and the boredom of the wilds was enough for her to want to know more. At the very least they would have to wait until their next supply run to send the boy back.

“Bring him to my tent, I’ll see what I can do with him. And make sure nobody tries to misplace anything from the cart to their tents.” she said, turning back towards her tent.

Just as she was about to leave however, the old man yelled behind her: “We’ll have to carry him - boy’s missing a leg.”, to which he only got a reply in the form of a wave.

Alicia was tired - her cold has been keeping her awake for most of the past week. Finally arriving to the comfort of her tent, she let out a long sigh and sat herself down in the only reliable chair left in camp. The temperature inside wasn’t particularly that much higher than the outside, but at least there was no chill in the air.

It only took a few minutes until someone brought over her new guest and placed him unceremoniously on the ground next to the entrance to her tent. For someone that was missing a limb, he was looking awfully curious and calm. The fresh lines of blood around his pants indicated that it hasn’t been long enough for the wound to even close, and the pain he should be in did not show on his face which meant maturity past his age.

“Hey, kid. Got a name?” breaking the tension, Alicia decided to have the first word in the conversation.

“Gale.” he replied disinterestedly while looking intensely at his bindings, as if the rope would just fall off if he stared for long enough. “Mind if you take these off? Promise I won’t run away.” he said with a huge grin on his face, clearly satisfied at his own joke.

The overall aura the boy had about him was fairly similar to the unease she was feeling around her previous leader. Yet, it was not a bad feeling, but something more similar to how a wild dog feels in the presence of a house dog.

“I’ll leave them on for now. Instead, how about you tell me how you got yourself into this whole …” she paused, pointing at his stump “... situation.”

“Well, while my story would certainly shed some light upon our unfortunate encounter, I hardly think the leader of a group of bandits and thugs would be interested in the finer details of my adventure.” His choice of words were careful, yet the slight mocking tone wasn’t missed. “But don’t misunderstand, I don’t want to offend you. It’s just that my situation and the reason for me being here are two unrelated things. Let’s just say that you, my dear, have been cast in the middle of an unfortunate mess, becoming somewhat of a political scapegoat.” His story was short, and words few, but gave more than enough information.

Alicia knew of the current power struggle at Palesh Castle, and had sent her group to get supplies from there for this very reason. Normally, a hole in the leadership of a settlement left it in a constant decline, so people usually found themselves struggling for anything they could get, which meant they would lower their trading prices.

Now the question was, what was more dangerous, letting this young boy live, in which case it would cost food and supplies to keep him alive, or just be done with him and hide the body in case anybody came back and snooped around for him.

The two options were both unfavourable, having to take care of a cripple would only add to the multitude of problems she already had while killing him might just bring doom upon them in case someone started looking for him. This was becoming less interesting and more of a headache by the minute.

“Now, while I would love to enjoy your lovely presence for the rest of the day, how about we strike a bargain?”

Alicia visibly grunted and turned around in disinterest, taking out a stack of papers left to the side of her table. “You have nothing to bargain with, unless you’re offering to become today’s soup.”

Gale visibly flinched at the idea, however made a show to calm down and gather his thoughts. “Now, while I might not seem able to offer any kind of manual labor, I would like to think that I can prove plenty useful with the knowledge I possess.”

She slowly turned around, a deep frown visible on her face. “We have no need for a city boy, much less a crippled one.” she was expecting him to offer some sort of ransom, but this seemed like nothing more than a joke. City folk hardly had any skills in surviving in the wilds, especially one so young - so what good was his knowledge here?

“I understand your lack of trust in me, but how about you hear me out first and make a decision after?” he quickly replied.

It did not seem that he was being desperate or trying to come up with something on the spot so that he gets to keep his life. He looked genuine enough, other than whatever it was he was obviously hiding.

“I understand your reluctance to accept my offer, but how about a testing period? If I can’t provide anything useful, you can just get rid of me.” he slowly offered.

The deal was good, and the terms were fair, yet she couldn’t help but feel like she would be at a loss in this trade. Sure, he may prove to indeed be useful, but trust comes at a steep price sometimes, and she had too many problems already to be able to keep a constant watch on the boy.

But, what did she have to lose, really, considering she could just get rid of him whenever she can’t stand his presence anymore.

“You have a deal, Gale.” Alicia sat up and cut his restraints, lifting him up and placing him on the chair in her stead. She finished her small ritual by lifting her hand and shaking his with a strong squeeze.

She slowly drew her dagger and lifted it to his throat as a last gesture. “But if you think for a second that you can sweet talk me, you are sadly mistaken. You have two days to prove your worth.” The few beads of sweat forming on his forehead were the indication she needed that he understood she at least held the most important card in her hand.

His life.