Eble woke up. An hour late.
He had planned to start his journey at seven o’clock, but he wasn’t used to waking up so early! Eble usually started his day sometime around ten-thirty, and that is a three-and-a-half hour difference!
When he woke he grabbed his pack, his weapons, and his instruments, and then he headed downstairs to the tavern.
“Ah! Master Eble!” Bregan said from behind his counter. He was wiping out glasses.
“Morning, Bregan!” Eble said, plopping himself down at a table.
“Any luck finding your book?” The barkeep asked with concern.
Eble sighed. “‘Fraid not. I do have some leads, though!”
“Ah, well! That’s something, then!”
There was a pause, and Bregan spoke again. “The usual, Eble?”
“Oh… Why not!”
“You hesitate, my friend! I don’t mean to pry, but is something wrong?”
Eble sighed. “I must leave today. I’m going after the thing that stole my storiebook.”
Bregan was taken aback. “Oh. Well. I think we’ll all be sorry to see you go!”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be back.” Eble said. Bregan nodded.
A moment later, Bregan brought Eble his breakfast. It consisted of three waffle sandwiches stuffed with bacon, strawberries, and syrup. It was delicious.
Twenty-five minutes later, Eble pushed his plate away and stood up. “I’m going now.” He said. “Wish me luck.”
“I do, Eble.” Bregan said, casually saluting the Halfling. “To best of days!”
“And better ones past!” Eble finished. He strolled out of the tavern and into the brisk morning air.
. . .
Eble fed Fred, and then the duo headed out of town. They passed the blacksmith’s shop, the cobbler’s house, and the jeweler’s.
They reached the Brunwich city gate, and it struck Eble how wild the untamed wilderness beyond the city really was. The trees weren’t thick, but they were many. Their leaves were all shades of orange, yellow, purple, and green. Ferns covered the soil like a green rug, and various plants fought for the patches of sunlight filtering through the trees. The forest was certainly wild, but it was also welcoming. It seemed like a place of serenity, the opposite of dark forests described in faerie stories. With deep breath, Eble led Fred into the trees.
The pair rode for a couple of hours before stopping to eat lunch. Eble poured Fred some grain, and ate some of his rations.
Eble’s rations mostly consisted of figs and greenberries. Greenberries (often mistaken for unripe blueberries) Were a sour berry that were surprisingly filling. One needed only eat three or four per day to be full. However, Eble was unaware of this; He ate ten, and suffered from a moderate stomachache for most of the afternoon.
He and Fred rode on until nightfall. Some time before dark Eble found a campsite and set up camp.
Darkness fell, and Eble seated himself by the fire with his flute. Solemnly he played an ancient melody of mourning, and any woodland creatures nearby scurried to the edge of the firelight to hear his music. Eternity it seemed he played, until he had assembled quite an audience. Many small pairs of eyes shined in the dancing light, yet they went unnoticed by the halfling. The fire dimmed, and still Eble played- Only when it died entirely did he retire.
. . .
Eble woke to the sound of fire crackling. But how could that be? The fire had died last night, and he had been sleeping- which could only mean one thing…
Eble sat up to see a slim, athletic humanoid crouched over his fire, cooking some strange plant. His face was fair, and pointed ears poked out of his oak-brown hair. The stranger smiled wryly when he saw Eble rise.
“Good morning, master halfling.”
“Good morning.” Eble said cautiously. “I don’t mean to offend you, but may I ask… Who are you, and why are you using my campsite?”
The elf chuckled. For that is what it was, Eble could see clearly enough… One of the wood elves he had heard of in tales told through the years.
“You do not offend me. I am simply here to ensure that you do no harm to my forest, or it’s inhabitants. For I am the druid of this wood, and I protect its natural splendor. You may pass in peace, if you agree to these terms.”
“I do.” Eble said. “I wish no harm upon this forest, nor you. For it is beautiful beyond compare! I have not once been beyond the borders of Brunwich, and I see what I have been missing!”
“You seem honest, stranger. I am glad that you share my views, and agree with my terms, for I have not had a friend to speak with for many years. Tell me, traveller, of news from the more civilised lands!”
Eble told him of Brunwich, and it’s goings-on. He told him of his quest, and the library, and Bregan; He told him of Ludwig’s, and the Frogwhich, and many other pubs he had visited in the grand city. The Druid listened raptly, stopping every now and then to ask questions.
They talked for an hour or more, the leaves of autumn falling all around. Suddenly the Elf stood, his hair flying in the breeze, his ears pricked up intently.
“What is it?” Eble said. The Druid did not respond for a few moments.
“I must away. My people are calling.”
“So soon?” Eble said. “I had hoped to travel some together! It has been long since I have had such a ready audience!”
The Elf smiled regretfully. “Duty calls. I am sorry, my friend, but I cannot stay. I hope that we shall meet again.
Eble smiled sadly. “As do I.” As the Elf walked away, Eble called after him “Ah- What is your name, good Druid?”
The Druid turned back to look at him. “I am Erendis.” He said, bowing. “And what is yours?”
“Eble.” Eble said. “Farewell!”
With a wave Erendis turned away into the trees, and in a moment he was gone.
. . .
Eble fed Fred again, and then the two set off once more. Fred was restless- he, like Eble, had never been beyond the city walls. They made slow progress- the pony was continually attempting to turn around and return home.
Slowly they cantered through the forest, colorful leaves falling all around. The trees slowly grew larger as the duo slowly made their way away from civilization. They were wild and beautiful, filled with ancient strength.
Eble heard laughing above, and when he looked up his heart all but stopped. There above him five faeries sat on a branch, laughing and pointing at Eble and Fred. One stuck her tongue out at the halfling.
He did not mind that they were teasing him. Faeries were vain, after all. But that did not matter! Eble had never even dreamed that he would someday lay eyes upon even a few of the faerie folk!
Eble took a moment to collect himself. “What would really impress them?” He wondered earnestly. It was only a few moments before he realized the answer.
Eble swung his lute into position and began to strum an old elvish melody. It was one of the first songs that he had learned, and still one of his finest. The faeries’ laughter died slowly, until they sat gaping at his music. Fred cantered impatiently.
When the song ended, the faeries bowed and flitted away. Eble watched them go, still smiling.
. . .
Days passed. Eble encountered almost nothing else in that time, but all the while the trees still grew larger. Eble could feel himself moving further and further away from the city, and into the wild.
On the sixth day of his departure, Eble encountered another stranger on the road. It was nearing sunset, and suddenly Eble spotted a short, thin man with pointy ears and wild chestnut hair. At first glance Eble wondered if the stranger was a halfling like himself, for he was of the Bard’s height; but upon closer inspection he saw that the traveller was clearly a gnome. He wore clothes of greens and browns, and little twigs poked out of his hair. He clutched a gnarled walking stick, and his face was fair and curious.
“Good morning!” The Gnome said brightly as he approached Eble.
“The same to you!” Eble said cheerfully. “I have not met many on this road. What brings you this way?”
“Ah!” Said the newcomer. “I do not walk this road by choice- I found myself quite lost in the forest, and I am hoping to find my way again sooner or later by this path. But please- you seem like a reasonable fellow; Do you think you might tell me where I am? For I, like you, have encountered no one else in my time here, and your help would be a welcome respite!”
“Of course!” Eble replied. “You are actually quite near a city- just a few days away, in fact. The city of Brunwich!”
“Is that so?” The gnome said curiously.
“Indeed.” Eble confirmed. “As a matter of fact, I am just leaving town myself. I am a Bard, and my book of stories was stolen! It is one of a kind, and I am pursuing the thief.”
“Interesting!” The gnome said thoughtfully. “As a matter of fact, I did pass one other person on my way here! He wore a dark hood and cloak, with a frightful face underneath! The letters US were printed on the back of his cloak. I wonder if he might be the villain you speak of.”
Eble’s heart stopped. So he was not too late! The trail was still fresh, and that meant that all hope was not lost.
“Thank you, good sir!” Eble said with a smile.
After a pause he spoke again: “Well, I must be on my way! Good luck, Mister…?”
“Eril Button, sir!” The gnome said with a polite bow. “And what is your name, if I may ask?”
“Eble.” The halfling said with a wink. “Safe travels.”
“The same to you.” Said Eril.
The two parted ways.
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