"YOU are the hero" : The Fate of Faraway 14

14

You are a masterless knight, a knight-errant. Son of a minor nobleman, you are not the eldest and will therefore not inherit your father's title. You could have offered your sword to so lord of your holand, but you believe you are worth far more. Like the heroes of legend, you ride forth into adventure and brandish your sword against any threat.

Of course, you are no common adventurer: your manners and eloquence elevate you above such people. Although your lineage is not particularly prestigious, it remains noble and ancient, granting you access to any lord worthy of the na.

Rumor has reached you that the kingdom of Faraway is seeking warriors to confront a monstrous dragon that has supposedly kidnapped the princess. Although you were still considering it, the possibility of riding your white horse, slaying the monster, and marrying the princess had crossed your mind. Legend had it you'd live happily ever after and have many children. Incidentally, it would also allow you to climb higher in the social hierarchy and perhaps even inherit a kingdom: enticing prospects indeed.

The road to Faraway is badly maintained. The path, once wide, is now very narrow in places. Vegetation is encroaching upon it, slowly swallowing the remains of ancient paving. The surrounding forest is dense, teeming with wildlife that is sotis unsettling. It is with relief that you finally reach the edge of the forest.

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A wide river marks the border between Faraway and the wild lands of the North… or rather, the South, from their perspective. Before you, a small stone bridge is defended by an impressive barbican whose side towers literally overlook a small village on the opposite bank. To your knowledge, this is the only crossing point south of Faraway.

As you approach the bridge, your horse, exhausted from such a long journey, stumbles on a stone. With extraordinary reflexes, you leap to the ground as the unfortunate beast tumbles down the bank and into the water. In horror, you watch as the violent current rcilessly sweeps away your faithful mount and most of your possessions.

All that remains is your sword, the majority of your money, and your family signet ring, the symbol of your nobility. The guards, rushing to your aid, help you to your feet.

“That's bad luck,” says one of them, “but at the sa ti, you're sowhat fortunate in your misfortune: if your mount had carried you off with it, no one would ever have seen you again.”

The guards serve you a cup of cheap wine diluted with water to comfort you. You chat with them briefly, explaining the reasons for your journey, and they advise you to take the road north towards the capital. You take your leave and enter the village. Go to 5.