The Heroes of Baldur's Gate... and Me

Part 17: The Withered Man

The afternoon turns colder, and the sky becomes a clear azure, signalling the coming winter season that would be soon upon us.
The once summer days have paved the way for the chill days of Autumn. The trees are still brimming with leaves of yellow, orange, red, and brown, which slowly float down to lie on the dying grass and moss below. Crisp leaves crackle underfoot as I walk under the heavy trees, their branches creaking with the coming biting cold.

I am reminded of the folk poem that is uttered in our town, during the autumnal equinox, when everyone gathers for a feast of the harvest. The wizened elders gather round and intone a song from the renowned wordsmith, William Moore:

The light hath stretched it's golden arms, but now they tremble cold and thin.
And shadows rise from fields once warm, to claim the space where sun hath been.
The Harvest Moon, a swollen eye, hangs low upon a breathless breeze.
It watches, waiting for the sigh,
That awakes the dark beneath the trees.
The earth beneath the stubble hums, a whispering, too soft to hear.
But something stirs, something comes, the time of light is fading here.
The Oak king bows, his crown undone, as twilight spills across the hills.
The Holly king with ancient tongue, takes up the throne, his rule fulfilled.
The final birds take flight in fear, the forest creaks with brittle bones.
The sky once blue now drowns in sheer black velvet, sighs as night intones; "the summer's end, the dying day, the autumn's breath, a creeping frost.
At this the point when light gives way, the world shall reckon what is lost."
The sun sinks low, a crimson bleed and darkness stretches wide it's grin.
In silence now the land concedes, for night has come and night will win.

Since my conversation with Halsin, my mind has been drowning in memories of home, as I try to push my fears back to the edge of my mind.

I think back to the coming of winter in Rivington, when the toils of harvest were completed hurriedly before the first frost arrived. I would work hard to fill our humble larder with food to last us through the cold months, taking on extra jobs and tasks in order to gain a little extra coin.

It was in those autumn months and harvest times that Rivington would come alive. The Circus would arrive as the evenings started to darken, laughter and cries of joy filling the streets around. Neighbours would help each other, friends welcoming strangers, happy to share a drink or a slice of bread. The pubs and theatre would be full and merry with new plays to entertain the masses.

Whiles the adults brought in the harvest, the children would gather in droves, to admire and gawk at the baskets heaping with apples and plums, in the hope that a stray couple may fall, perfect for little hands.

Lyra adored this time of year, as it also marked the run up to the Yuletide celebrations and the fun that was to come. She would spend most of the day out with the other children of the town, running between the hay bales and carts going to and from.
For the children, it was also a time of plenty with the wild flora also providing a wide variety of berries, fungi and fruits ready for the picking.

When I was not needed on the farms, I would often take Lyra, and some of the other children as well, out to the small field lanes to collect blackberries, sloes and damsons from the many hedgerows. How much of the fruit would make it into the baskets was hard to tell, but the staining around Lyra's and the children's mouth would clearly attest to some having been tasted.
The evenings would be spend baking pies and crumbles, the making of jams and preserves to be stored away in our little larder.

I decided to head to the woods and forage the surrounding flora, as a way to feel some normalcy, a hint of what I would be doing if this had never happened and I was still in Rivington. I had been gone several hours and had done well to gather various mushrooms, fresh nettles, blackberries and elderberries. My best find had been a small plum tree, heavy with small sweet yellow fruit and I had spent some time filling the majority of my small basket.