The County of Avenshire has long been known as a haven for foresters and lumberjacks. It was also a Sanctuary for Mages when Magic was prominent. Our largest forest, The Ravens Forest, is rumored to have the essence of magic flowing through its roots. Today I continue through the lands of Arthos to search for King Miles. My fears that something terrible has happened to him increase each day, the rumors along the path of those who have spoken to him recently have been silent.
Author: Bradford J. Wilshire (Page 3 of 4)
The sun was bright this morning, the smell of fresh Canis rabbit cooking over a bed of hot coals reminded me I was alive. After all the pungent aroma of such a creature only has two reactions in people. One either looses their last meal, or subconsciously licks their lips in anticipation. Being from the farm myself, I found that my now growling stomach hadn’t forgotten the taste of Canis. Ah, memories.
However this isn’t to share the delicacy of canis, or debate it’s polarizing taste. Rather I must inform you about an even I was merely a witness to.
I consider myself lucky, as my profession permits, I have a lot of leeway to chase a story. And even though on the surface, a story in a hamlet called the ‘Crescent Knoll’, could make any person in my situation roll his eyes. I was determined to give the Crescent Knoll a new breath of life, in its sad, miserable state, partly due to me gambling the last of my travel fund away. Unfortunately, it was looking pretty bleak when the only thing to write about that would closely resemble a ‘compelling piece’ was either the mediocre brews of the Rocky Basin Tavern or the occasional hoodlums that frequent the area. That is, until a traveling map-maker had discovered a rich vein of iron just a half days ride from the hamlet. As soon as word hit about the ‘mountains of iron’ that was just ’lying on the ground’ for anyone to take, a boom town was born.
The tiny hamlet of Crescent Knoll, which you’d need Angelica’s Blessing to find it on a map, was your run of the mill, agricultural community. It had its farmers, lumberjacks, a blacksmith and
carpenter. Pretty standard stuff. As soon as the first prospector came more and more prospectors trickled in, with a caravan of tools and digging equipment in tow. Pretty soon the Rocky Basin Tavern was at max capacity and couldn’t even keep any men in the stables.
Not only were the prospectors new to the Crescent Knolls, but rolling in on the tailcoats of the prospectors were the traveling merchant caravans, who to them, I suspect the Crescent Knolls look like anything else to them, coin. The merchants were quick to set up booths, sometimes right outside town, out of the back of road worn wagons. They’d sell necessary items, such as trail rations, replacement parts for broken mining equipment, in return for a direct access to iron ore. It was almost a symbiotic relationship, because these poor Crescent Knollers couldn’t purchase the ore fast enough. I’d come to find out this standard practice in boom towns, be it copper, silver or gems, miners will flood the local markets with precious metals, driving prices down. Merchants are key in stabilizing the market, trading their newly acquired goods in lucrative contracts back in the cities.
On a final note, readers. If you do happen to travel the roads to Crescent Knolls, please hire a body guard or two. In an attempt to glean more information about the direction Crescent Knolls was headed, due to its newfound wealth in iron, I attempted to schedule an interview with the Crescent Knolls Elder Councilmen, Rudolf Igman. In my short time tenure in this thriving hamlet, rapid expansion was in the works, with rumors of families migrating to settle in these rich lands. Unfortunately, I had only found out recently, that Elder Councilmen Igman had been indisposed (the word being passed around, murdered) due to an altercation that had transpired on the roads by a band of ruffians, looking to cash in on the hard work of others. Not only has the Crescent Knolls attracted prospectors and merchants alike, but the less savory types as well.
Remember, my loyal readers, protect your assets.
In this life and the next, I bid farewell for now.
I hope this reaches you well. As you may know I am a journey to discover the whereabouts of King Miles of Dol Aderyn. The reason I write back so soon is to share the most extraordinary event that unfolded today. By a strange series of coincidences, or perhaps Destiny itself, I found myself spending the night in the lands of The Collective last night. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first, but then I heard the whispers, the rumors that there was a new claim to the throne. This time it wasn’t a great southern King, but rather whispers of a dark Queen.
There was a bustle of activity upon arriving at The Elyria Herald this morning. In fact, many of our writers and readers were chattering about the most recent rumor. Who was this King of The South, and how did he appear out of nowhere? More importantly it challenged me as a writer and investigator. Which King was misleading me upon my previous journey? If you are asking yourself the same thing dear Elyrian, not to worry, I have answers.
There are whispers that there is a man, “The King of The South” claiming that he is from a family of true nobility. Could this mean one of the monarchs I visited was an impostor sitting on an intricate throne of lies? Or perhaps this is another attention seeking swindler trying to gain a following? Either way, my door is open for you King. You know where to find me.
Be Bold, Be Know
Bradford J. Wilshire
It has been a long journey back to you, my fellow Elyrians. I have returned from the lands claimed by The Empire of Xeilias. My boots are still a bit soggy from taking a wrong turn through a rather dreary swamp and I fear I may need to replace them. Nevertheless I come to share my impressions of the leader of Xeilias.
The one thing you must do as a writer, in which I found was the secret to my success, was to surprise my subjects. And on this mild summer day, with the farmers outside making their last minute preparations for the transitioning of the harvest season, the Elyria Herald is bustling. With the series of successful news reports released no more than a fortnight ago, the employees of Elyria Herald have been scrambling to handle the sudden influx of would-be writers and reporters and even a few town criers, looking to cache in EH’s success.