A Road Forsaken
The Enclave > Known Roads

Well and well, you're as best to hear of the Road now as cold and in sight of the Greenwood - and by the King's blood, spearpriests will say nothing of it beneath Tean's Marker. First snow will be soon enough by the color of the clouds; better to hear the tale from an honest spear than told by rotten Lun in Mirael, or commonfolk who twist it to scare children.

Blood! Keep your spear upright! There's those watching us at guard upon the bridge, and little enough to tell at the heart of it. Let long tales be for ale and moon-faced players from Port, and may that be true as my next spear cast!

Where the New Road first sights Greenwood, old Krineth and the Traveler walked through grass and Farthest wilderness to find the mists and marsh of the Formless. There they went because the Traveler spoke of a swamp in which no Road would stand, and Krineth would bear no word but his own, be it in bedding commoner girls or to see what stood past yonder hills. A Road they made and marked from nothing, all the way to the mists, just as that we stand upon.

Common folk followed that Road, and made a village a way and a way from the New Road - where the mists of the Formless make a grayness of the distance on a summer morning, but yet in sight of the Greenwood. Who's to say how far and again the Greenwood stretches past the Forest Road? Not you, nor I, nor even Krineth in his life, by the King's spear! But barns they raised and cottages in the Ammand way, and set out long tables for summer festivals just as village folk in Two Springs and outside the King's Keep.

Then to the heart of it, yes, by the spears of the Ammand of old! A curse came out of the Formless, came out of the Greenwood; the Road faded into the Farthest, the markers buried. There's some who say folk came to or from that Road in seasons past, and that the village stands, all who dwell there cursed yet.

A tale, I say, but the Road set by Krineth and the Traveler is there yet, that I can tell as truth. By my hand and this very spear, I spilled Neth bile upon a stone marker none had seen before, and this not five winters hence when the snow fell light by the Greenwood.

[ Posted by Reason on August 5, 2006 ]