It wasn’t fettuccini carbonara and a fresh cold bottle of Pinot, but it would have to do. I found an abandoned dwelling as I wandered the wilderness and made myself at home. Though it was obvious that it had been unoccupied for some time it was in relatively good condition. And the storage room still held some fine treasures. Casks of dried meat and sealed containers of fruits, vegetables, and flour for bread lined the wall and filled the shelves. Containers of spices and such other food stuffs would surely allow for a meal like I had not had in many a day. A small cellar was even more rewarding. Though the vegetables stored there were no longer edible, the barrels of wine were in good condition. With a couple good strikes the plug was removed and a dark red liquid ran from the hole. I filled a cup and bravely sampled it. Cool from the depth of the cellar, it was like ambrosia from the gods. I am almost embarrassed to say, it took a good long night of recuperation after a few more upturned cups before I could light the fire and attempt making the bread. The meat, moistened with sauces and washed down with the wine, was just what I needed. The bread, hot from the stone oven, was perfect for dipping so that no drop of sauce was wasted. There was no fancy pasta, and the wine had no kings seal, but the food and drink was as good as I had ever eaten, at least in recent memory. Speaking of memory, I could not help but think back to those I left behind. I miss the days when good friends got together around a roaring bon fire, or joined together for laughs and stories over an ale, or even when just two of us sat on the beach in the moonlight or swam in a secret pool far from the hustle and bustle and all alone. But when I left there was little hustle and bustle left on the streets. It was rare to find anyone who cared to stop and chat, or sometimes to find anyone at all. A good imagination could picture Balthy’s minions catching them and eating them one by one. It was time for me to go. And though I may return someday, the direction of travel tomorrow will still be headed away from Valorn to places unknown down paths yet untraveled. So soon now I will put down my quill, empty my cup for the umpteenth time, and lay down here by the fire for a good nights sleep. Two days and nights here will have been quite enough for a warrior; tomorrow will be time to move on.
Gar Windgust