Not much is known of the Fae, for all accounts of which are mostly hearsay, and dubious in nature. Among the elves, it is said that they come from the place between worlds, the In-between or the Betwixt Place. Still from what evidence I have collected, they seem to be the source of the fabled and much sought-after Witchwood. The material is a devil to shape but it is as hard as the finest dwarven steel, and much lighter. Some say it is living wood and is able to slowly repair the damage done to it. I would very much like to see it for myself someday.
- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.
A low rumble, reminiscent of the quake that nearly entombed my comrades and I within the mines, echoed through the earth, steadily advancing with each passing heartbeat. We hastened outside, eager to behold another wondrous spectacle of this realm.
A rolling wave of mane and hoof thundered in the distance, growing ever closer. A vast herd of horses stretched across the horizon, a flowing line that moved majestically across the grassy plain in a multitude of natural colors, flowing in unison towards the southeast.
Larynda’s mouth was open in wonder, and even the stoic Kidu could not help but stare agog at the sight before us. All around the caravan, there was a great whooping and hollering as raw joy filled the air with its song. The great herd had come.
“Isn’t that a beautiful sight?” commented Laes, breaking me from my stupefied wonder.
I could only nod mutely as the herd slowly began to fill up more of my vision, growing ever larger and louder, the thunder of hooves clamoring ever closer.
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“Are we safe here?” I asked the caravan master, feeling nervous at witnessing such a huge number of animals.
“Hah! Of course. The horses of the herd are a gift from Kaes-Loka, the god of hearth and herd. It brings only good fortune to those who witness its passing. An excellent sign for our journey. Only the most experienced and respected Waveriders take from the herd, on occasion, after offering a great tribute to His name at the temples. A true prize in horseflesh! Perhaps we can commit some heresy for gold today! Khalam! Khalam!” His voice was an enthusiastic whip-crack over the din of celebration, catching the attention of a thick-set and heavily-armored rider before whispering conspiratorially to me, “You can’t ride by any chance, can you? Any experience wrangling horses?”
“No, I have never had the time to learn,” I replied to him, somehow naturally in a whisper, and shook my head.
“More's the pity. Perhaps I will have you learn later! It is good to broaden one’s horizons, hah!” he finally finished, winking at me before he began to discuss horse theft with his Guard Master.
Soon enough, a flurry of activity stole over the guards and workers as new plans were made. Great lengths of tough-looking rope were produced and knowing looks were exchanged among the people of the caravan. They planned theft against the Tides, to steal from them what the Children viewed as sacrosanct. I wholeheartedly supported their endeavor and wished them good fortune.
"I will leave Jasper, Khalam's second, here with the train. Since you are in my employ, I would ask that you follow his orders," Laes commanded in passing, as he mounted an impressive-looking steed.
It was suspiciously of a similar breed to the horses that the men rode in my first contact with humans in this world. A silky dun brown, it was a little heavier-looking and thicker about the chest, the animal's lines promising more power than endurance.
Clicking his tongue loudly, Laes left with his entourage to intercept and plunder the equine sea. An armored man, clad in a pristine coat of plates with a bronze-plumed helmet, who I assumed to be Jasper, saluted the group as they left... Soon enough, Jasper began to bark out orders, quieting the infectious air of festivity. In no time at all, the caravan began to resume its journey.