A Merchant's Trek through Old Lands

[Electric Wizard 78]

A lone merchant treks down an old, overgrown cobblestone road. The cobble is covered by moss, presenting a green hue to the entire road, through the vines and low-hanging trees of the swampland. A relic in the distance, made of stone, stands in the swamplands. It is an old, darkened stone sculpture of a goblet, it sags in its foundations and sits off to one side, leaning. The merchant grumbles as he has to push aside vines hanging in the road. The sound of crickets and frogs constantly hangs in the air as the whole land is alive, except the lone stone structure in the distance.

When the merchant begins to trek further down the road, the slope increases, the swampland continues no more upon the mighty mountain range that stands after. A stone wall and keep, covered in moss and vines, appear in the distance, topping a mountain, many an hours climb if one were to be so inclined. As he continues up the steep incline up towards the valley between the two mountains. The road is slippery and the donkey behind him slips a few times upon the mossy cobble beneath his hooves.

"Steady there, ol' trot!", say the merchant as he tugs on the reins of the ass.

He reaches a sign, etched in a flattened rock. Some vines cover it, but still legible. "Alandros". The merchant peered upon the stone structures of the wall, ending where the road trailed into the valley. The walls were covered with vines and moss, the vines had grown to quite complexity, almost forming a natural bond with the stone. He caught his breath from the climb, and continued onward through the stone structure and the walls. He peered over the hills of the valley, wooden buildings with plaster, now brown and green from age. The entire village is an earthy color, complete with the usual vine and mossy exterior. The chimneys still burn as usual in the far side of the village. The bourgeoisie houses are quite dilapidated and overgrown, with not one chimney billowing. He smells the bread baking in the distance, the rain of the swamp nearby, and the cool breeze of the sea to the left, on the cliffs. The merchant recognizes the serf houses, as the ones still working. The farm in the distance is tended to and not very overgrown with weeds. Some farms are, but most aren't.

The merchant gazes upon the keep to the left, down the road into the valley, on the highest hill of the valley. It is of foreign design to the merchant's eyes, sharp angles and dark colors. The vines have also taken to this keep, grown all around the towers and main keep, creating a beautiful mix of stone and plant. On the main balcony of the keep, stood an old man. His beard gray, his face with wrinkles around his cheek and eyes. Mayhap in his fifties or so. A beret lay upon his head. He stand there drinking from a goblet, watching over the cliffs, and the waves crashing upon them. An unfinished stone structure lay behind the keep, also overgrown with vines and the like. He tugs on the reins of the donkey and trots along the road, to the right lay a vineyard, still being planted, and new vines in each row. In the distant farms, farmers are at work, slowly making their way along the lines. The bakery and windmill have the most activity, a steady flow of the occasional man walking in, hefting a large bag on his back, in and out.

[Sultan 3953]

(Hey ElectrcWizard if your still around and playing Alexander we need to talk seriously, because if you want that is you can fill in Zibeans High Chancellor position MSG me on the fourms.)