Chapter 1 - The Morning of the Traveling Merchant

Sanual comes to town for his bi-yearly visit.

Chapter 1 - The Morning of the Traveling Merchant

   The warm rays of the mid-morning sun protruded through the young spring leaves of the many massive trees that spilled into the village from the dense forest beyond. Sanual, having just arrived from Archers' Point a few hours previous, was still in the process of unloading his wagons when an unusually warm, yet somewhat refreshing breeze blew in from the south bringing with it the scent of various types of undergrowth that carpeted the forest floor.  He rose from a crouch where he had been coiling the ropes that had secured to the wagon the many boxes and barrels that he had brought with him in hopes of selling to the townsfolk.  As he turned his face into the wind the sweet aroma laden with life danced on his nose and for a few seconds, lost in this olfactory euphoria he forgot that he was setting up shop in a back water town that he despised with every fiber of his being.  As he stood in the shade of one of his numerous wagons that stood under the shelter of a copse of aged cedar trees, he examined the panorama around him.  His five large wagons, set up by the servants in his caravan, were in a simi-circle at the back of the clearing that served as the Town Center.  Why it was called the Town Center was a mystery to him because it was nowhere near the center of town, rather, it was on the very edge.  He supposed that the name came from the function that the open yard provided, in that it was the only place where all the towns’ people could be gathered together.  Beyond the aged wood fence, near which his wagons stood, the forest was so over grown that it appeared to be one solid mass.   The branches of ancient trees actually escaped into the town itself, the prolific vines that grew from the wall of greenery encircled the mammoth trunks and had found their way into town via the trees that rose more than a hundred feet into the air.  Together, the limbs, already heavy with the burden of their own leaves, sagging with the added weight of the thick vines, formed a very beautiful canopy of greens and browns over the entire Town Center.  As he studied the intricacy of the canopy above him, he wondered to himself what exactly kept those branches from collapsing.  It’s the vines, he thought, they join every branch and limb, weaving them together.  No doubt if the vines died the whole canopy would follow them to the ground.

     His service animals, exhausted from puling the wagons for nearly five days straight, were resting under the trees at the edge of the clearing farthest from the inn so that the smell wouldn’t travel to the guests residing within its many rooms.  The stable hands he brought with him were looking after the animals and treating them where necessary.  The road can be hazardous at times and they rarely get to where they are going with out a superficial injury or three.  The animals endured though, although it happened more frequently than it should, he himself had never lost one to the road or weather.

    With the effect of the vivid sensory episode still lingering in his mind he saw the village in a way he never has before.  He was standing in the yard beside the Cedar Lodge in a patchwork of shifting shadows cast by the boughs of the very trees the lodge was named after, hearing the birds in the tree tops but not really hearing them at all. 

     The Town Center was currently occupied by only his traveling companions and himself, and he was thankful that the primitives had the respect to listen to their mayor and carry out his wishes long enough for him to get his shops situated. The landscape, having not yet been trampled into the dirt, was still pleasant to gaze upon.  Rather than wild grass, the yard consisted of moss and shade loving wild flowers.  Caught up in the moment, he wondered what the natural carpet would feel like on his bare feet and he had to resist the urge to find out.  See, he had spent his younger years in a forest much like this one and he could remember the feel of the cool dirt between his toes.  Closing his eyes, he heard the river beyond the apothecary and he could almost feel the rushing water pushing against his legs and the stones under the soles of his feet.  It would be so nice, he thought, to wade into that water and be free from the adult world that he now lived in…

     Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, wondering what had brought this nostalgic moment into view, he continued on through the Town Center and made his way to the road.  He wanted to see the town with this new state of mind. 

     Across the dirt road that ran in front of the Town Center and the Cedar Lodge, was the towns’ single apothecary, Hannamays’ Herbs.  A small building, just big enough in front for a slanted door and a bubbled window, it boasted a faded, barely legible sign hanging over the door from the roof.  Without looking down, to avoid the call of the cool and barely damp moss on which he wanted to tread, he instead walked across the bridge under which the ditch, dry for a month or more, ran the entire length of the road.  This ditch un-nerved him, he lived his entire life believing that these…people, were too uneducated to understand the usage of ditches.  But his mind was fast changing as he looked up and down the dirt road.  It was more of a path really, un-marred by the deep ruts of numerous wagons, it was well traveled but grass still grew in a line down the center and along both sides.  He recalled traveling on cobbled roads in the cities, where there was no longer any respect for others or their surroundings; people just wanted to get where they were going as fast as they could get there.  This path alone told a lot about the people that lived here.  They not only held high respect for their fellow townsfolk, but also for the land itself.  And that was refreshing.  Maybe this village and the people in it weren’t as uncivilized as he once believed.

     As a 6th generation traveling merchant, he took great pride in the fact that he was more successful than his beloved father, may he be reborn again into a wonderful life, who was one of the most well known traders in the country.  Having inherited all of his fathers’ trade routes, Sanual now owned trading rights to all of the ports and cities this side of the ocean.  Along with the right to trade in the large cities, came the right to trade in the small villages that were governed by those cities.  Gaffys’ Valley was one of those small villages.  It was so small, in fact, that he would have not lost any coin if he had just passed it by on the way to the city of Druther.   

    This was his first trip into the valley this year; he would come again in the fall to sell his wares to the meager villagers of this dirty and pest ridden town if the weather allowed it.  He supposed that it wasn’t nearly as horrible as he assumed it was for his father had spoken highly of Gaffy’s Valley.  According to legend, this was once one of the most sought after towns to live in.  Given, it was tucked into a beautiful valley in the wilderness of the la’Sabrea Mountains, named after the explorer who had found this haven, and the land was always fertile enough to grow anything that was planted.  It was just the people that bothered him.  They lived in tiny huts that were dug out of the ground, they cooked in outside fire pits, and they all drew their bath water from the river that ran through the center of town.  Common people could have gotten away with that one hundred years ago, but the world was much more sophisticated these days.  But they seemed happy with the way they lived, and most had never been out of the hollow so they knew not what they were missing out on.

     Struggling against himself to maintain the positive view of this village that had earlier been bestowed upon him by the gentle push of nature, he made his way back to his wagons as the villagers began to drift his way.  Freeing his mind from the crate in which it was confined, he smiled to himself and observed the crowd that was gathering in wait of the merchandise that he would soon offer them.