Pag trudged along the uneven dirt path, each step a reminder of just how ill-equipped he was. The cold wind bit through the tattered fabric of his robe, doing little to shield him from the chill. His fingers curled instinctively, wishing for the familiar weight of his vambrace, the protective embrace of real armor. Even a decent pair of boots would have been an improvement over the worn leather scraps barely clinging to his feet. Every time his foot landed on a sharp stone or a particularly jagged root, he silently cursed his situation.
Beyond the physical discomfort, frustration churned in his gut. He had once been a force to be reckoned with, a mage of considerable skill and standing. Now, stripped of resources, he was little more than a vagabond, a nameless wanderer in a world that demanded strength to survive. He tried to push the bitterness aside—anger would not conjure armor or coin, nor would it keep him warm at night.
“Gods, what I wouldn’t give for some actual gear,” Pag muttered under his breath, glancing at the other two as they navigated the winding path through the dense underbrush.
Darleyn, ever the keen observer, smirked. “Missing your fancy magic accessories already?” he teased, stepping over a gnarled tree root with ease. His own attire wasn’t much better—worn leather armor that had seen better days, a single dirk strapped to his belt, and a belt pouch that was distressingly light.
Eryk, trailing behind them, was the only one who seemed somewhat content with his situation. His long coat, though fraying at the edges, still offered protection against the elements, and his boots were in better shape than Pag’s or Darleyn’s. More importantly, he had his sword, even if it had lost some of its sheen. “You need coin, Pag,” he said, brushing a stray leaf from his shoulder. “And the best way to get coin is through work. We need to find a guild—adventurers, monster hunters, mercenaries, whatever they have out here. That way, we can get paid, resupply, and find you a ship.”
Pag grunted in agreement, but his mind was already working through the details. A guild would mean jobs, but also competition. Would his reputation matter here? Would the locals know who he was, or would he be just another down-on-his-luck wanderer? He needed to assess his worth, fast. Without proper equipment, he was a liability in combat, and that meant he needed an edge. Information, perhaps. Strategy. Something beyond brute force.
“Well, wandering aimlessly isn’t helping,” Eryk pointed out. “We should at least follow the terrain. Settlements tend to be near water sources or trade routes. We keep heading downhill, and we’ll find a river or a road. From there, it’s just a matter of tracking traffic.”
Darleyn stretched, looking up at the darkening sky. “We should also find shelter soon. I’d rather not spend another night in the open if we can help it.”
The thought of another cold, sleepless night under the stars made Pag grimace. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out without real rest. His body ached, his magic reserves felt sluggish, and the creeping exhaustion dulled his normally sharp instincts.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
As they pressed forward, the path widened slightly, revealing a fork in the road. One direction sloped downward, following the natural incline of the land, while the other veered into thicker woodland, its canopy shrouding whatever lay beyond.
“Downhill,” Eryk said without hesitation. “Rivers mean civilization.”
“Or bandits,” Darleyn muttered, eyes scanning the tree line warily. “We aren’t exactly in a position to fend off an ambush right now.”
Pag exhaled sharply. “We don’t have much of a choice. If we don’t find a town soon, I’m going to start hunting rats for food.”
They took the downhill path, their footsteps crunching over dried leaves and loose stones. The air grew damper as they descended, the scent of moss and water filling their noses. After nearly an hour of walking, the distant rush of flowing water reached their ears.
“There we go,” Eryk said, picking up the pace. “If we follow the river, we’re bound to find something.”
As they emerged from the treeline, the river came into view—a wide, sluggish body of water, its surface rippling with the occasional fish breaking the surface. More importantly, a narrow dirt road ran parallel to it, leading off into the distance.
“A trade route,” Darleyn observed. “Means there’s a settlement somewhere along this path.”
Pag’s stomach growled, reminding him that it had been far too long since their last proper meal. “Then let’s hope it’s close.”
They followed the road as the sky deepened into twilight, their senses on high alert for any sign of danger. It wasn’t long before the soft glow of torchlight flickered in the distance.
“Finally,” Pag breathed, his pace quickening. “A town.”
As they neared, the wooden palisade of a modest settlement came into view. A watchtower stood at the entrance, and a pair of weary-looking guards leaned against the gate, spears in hand.
Eryk raised a hand in greeting as they approached. “Travelers looking for a place to rest,” he called.
One of the guards, a burly man with a thick beard, eyed them suspiciously. “And what’s your business here?”
Pag stepped forward, doing his best to look non-threatening despite his ragged appearance. “We’re looking for work. We need coin, food, and a place to stay. Is there an adventurer’s guild or a monster hunter’s guild in town?”
The guards exchanged glances before the bearded one nodded. “Aye. The ‘Broken Fang’ runs the guild here. If you’ve got the skill, they might have work for you.”
Relief flooded through Pag. Finally, a chance to earn some real equipment, to get back on his feet.
The guard gestured toward the gate. “Welcome to Velmar's Rest. Try not to cause trouble.”
As they stepped inside, Pag couldn’t help but feel that, for the first time in days, things were finally looking up.
The town was bustling despite the late hour. Wooden buildings with sloped roofs lined the streets, their windows glowing with warm light. The scent of roasted meat wafted from a nearby inn, setting Pag’s stomach into a furious growl.
“We should find the guild first,” Eryk said, eyes scanning the buildings. “Get an idea of what jobs are available before we spend what little coin we have.”
Darleyn smirked. “Or we could just eat first. I’m starving, and we can’t fight on empty stomachs.”
Pag sighed. “Let’s at least see where the guild is. Then we’ll eat.”
They followed the main road, keeping an eye out for any signs. Soon enough, they spotted a large, two-story building with a carved wooden sign hanging above its entrance. The sign depicted a broken fang, just as the guard had mentioned.
“This is it,” Eryk said, stepping forward. “Let’s see what work we can find.”