Return of the Stormcriers

CHAPTER 10 - RIFTWATER

  Matt gazed in wonder as they passed beneath the massive portcullis and through the western entrance into Riftwater; he had never before seen anything so large in his life. In his youth, he had enjoyed listening to travelers and merchants who had spoken tales of cities so large that Clearfield could fit inside them twenty times or more. Until now he had assumed they were embellishments. Every element of the city made Matt feel small and insignificant. People milled about like ants on a hill, only seldom stopping to greet fellow passersby. Where Matt had grown up it was hardly an exaggeration to say that everyone had known everyone else for their entire lives. The idea of living in a large bustling city with this many comers and goers was overwhelming to him.

The castle that had caught Matt's eye from the moment they had spotted the city ascended high above Riftwater. Tall towers and proud spires protruded from the stone walls up into the sky, silent sentinels standing watch over the people from the center of the city. Ornate, beautiful carvings adorned the walls of the noble residence. Mythological and monstrous visages sat in relief, expertly wrought by master craftsmen. There was more art built into the walls of that single structure than Matt had seen in his entire life. Everything in Clearfield had been built for purpose, not beauty; even the two small temple were simple, unassuming constructions. The shrine to Vilarra, the goddess of Nature and her elements, was housed in a steepled wooden building near the center of Clearfield where large, twisted vines had been coaxed to grow up its walls in intricate patterns and colors. The more popular of the two houses of worship, it had been staffed by three priests and priestesses adorned in simple brown robes that had led services every morning and evening for any and everyone who cared to stop by. The second, smaller temple, located beside the old cemetery, had been dedicated to Tolfelo, the god of death. An old priest with a long tangled gray beard and a flowing red robe tended the grounds with his young apprentice. He had been a kind man, always offering friendly waves and smiles, but Matt had always done his best to avoid him during their visits to town.

Jahn chuckled softly beside him, "If you think Riftwater is big, just wait until you see Stormcliff."

Matt looked at Jahn in disbelief, "Stormcliff is even bigger than this?" He could not imagine anything bigger than Riftwater. Jahn just smiled. Matt shook his head at a loss. He could see more people in this one small section of the city than he had seen in his entire life.

The muddy dirt road they had traversed for days had given way to paved cobblestone at the entrance of the city. The horses' shod feet clopped loudly on the smooth stone worn from years of use. The buildings that made up the outskirts of Riftwater were made of old wood, greyed from years of exposure to the unforgiving sun. Newer planks were sporadically nailed to the buildings wherever a gap had appeared over the years or more support had needed to be added after their initial construction. Most of the structures looked to be one strong breeze away from falling over. While Clearfield had looked clean, even if unplanned, the outskirts of Riftwater did not have the same cared-for appearance. It appeared as if it's inhabitants had given up on their homes a long time ago. Many of the people who emerged from these buildings wore hard, worn expressions of those who had dealt with much trouble in their years.

  "Welcome to Riftwater, The Crossroads of Verden," Paul announced softly, but grandly beside Matt, appearing pleased by his open disbelief.

The city was bisected, split north to south, by the narrowest point of a broad river that Nathan had informed him was named the Amesval. The river had come into view of the party a day and a half before, snaking lazily through the Great Plains of Verden, much calmer here than where it rushed down from its source high in the great Sawtooth Mountains in the north. Several arched stone and wooden bridges near the center of the city connected the two halves together into the large unified city of Riftwater. Old wooden scaffolds and stairs led down from street level to rows of docks that lined the river where merchant river boats from southern Verden were inspected, loaded, and unloaded by dozens of dock hands as crates and barrels of every good imaginable changed possession. Many of the products would be sold in the local markets, while the majority would be loaded onto wagons to be carried across the continent where they would find their way into cities in Eastern and Western Verden that were impossible to reach by ship. Other loads were taken to the north end of Riftwater, the men explained to Matt, where they were to be loaded onto new skiffs where they would continue up the Amesval River until they the incline became too steep to allow travel by boat to continue, bringing much needed supplies to the mountainous region of the kingdom.