The Wanders 1: Priceless

Chapter 1

The road was dark. Beneath the shine of a clear afternoon sun, its bends and tracks held an air of somber grey. The gravel here was bleached through ages past, by ventures long forgotten, but now only carried shadows of the surrounding forest.

Nobody knew who built this road or where it led, and like all mysteries it was a topic of legends. Some tales were epic, others tragic, but every story shared an unmistakable conclusion: People died on this road.

One recent legend concerned a wraith. Some soul met an untimely end and was now anchored to this world by a precious trinket. All who ventured here had only one chance to defeat this wraith, lest their souls be lost as well.

It was a fairly straightforward campfire tale, but actual sightings were growing frequent even on other roads - as if this one's curse was spreading. A measure of alarm sprouted through nearby settlements enough that a bounty was posted; five-thousand gold coins to whoever could put an end to the road wraith.

Understandably there were few takers. A handful tried to fake success by venturing a few miles in, but even that stopped when the disappearances began. It seemed there was meat to the road's tale after all.

Like all legends, the road would require a foolhardy hero to be satisfied, and two boots just so happened to sink into its gravel today.

This traveler was about as workaday as an elf could be. Old leather overalls covered his shirt and naturally yellow skin. He had a casual build with darker brown hair and a thick stubble to accent his easygoing expression.

Through the grey air he moved with hands in his pockets. His pointed ears visibly perked up to unnatural voices behind the trees, but more to note their strangeness than anything. It almost looked as if he were strolling along a trail, and even managed to whistle a tune before he stepped on something with a clink.

The elf blinked, then looked down at something metal beneath his boot.

It was a silver locket with a shine almost unnatural in this dull atmosphere. Diamonds lined its edges around a scratched inscription on the face. He let out a hum, then stooped to pick up the locket. As soon as he straightened, something moved into existence before him. The grey solidified into something like a cloak hanging over nothing, then a face faded into its hood with a smile.

"What in tarnation?" the elf backed a step.

"Hello," moved the air around this figure. "You've come a long way."

The elf propped a friendly smile, "It was only a few miles. Say, you wouldn't happen to have seen a wraith around these parts? I ain't too sure what one looks like, but they're supposed to be some kinda monster."

A moment of silence as the figure's smile pursed. "Is that so."

"That's what I've heard," chirped the elf. "My name's Gomer. What's yours?"

The figure paused, then pointed a small hand to the locket. "Do you know what that is?"

"Looks like a jewelry," Gomer held it up. "Is it yours?"

"That is the Heirloom of Viles. It's priceless, so long as you can carry it off alive. More than one have died seeking it here."

"Eh, great," Gomer rubbed the back of his head. "See, I'm only here about the wraith. You can have this back and I'll be on my way."

The figure tilted her head with a slower voice, "You ... don't want it?"
"It ain't mine, is it?" Gomer reached out, "Here ya go."

Something like a grin came over the figure, and she slowly drew the hood of her cloak back to reveal the visage of a slender elf. This one was a maiden of absolutely beautiful features. Graceful jaw, large eyes, and a glowing aura with smooth white hair. As lovely as she looked, there was a malice behind her soft voice. "What a gesture. Not only have you found my precious locket, but you offer it without cost. How ever can I ... repay your kindness?"
Gomer raised a confused brow. "It ain't mine, miss. I just found it here. You feelin' alright?"