The Traveller

Log 2: The City of Religion

They bow by the wayside and listen to all the words preached in the town square. Crowds of them gathered under the tiny sun. For they themselves are bigger than the sun, and more important than all things ancient. They believe only what they want to. To them truth is indeed lies and lies are indeed truth. They are as mindless as those who wonder the lowly plains; and as eager for pleasure as those who feed upon them. That is certain, otherwise they would know quite well that the sun is indeed large.

The sun was bright, it shone down and amplified the colour of the cream stone bricks that made up the streets and the buildings of the city. Most of them were two or three stories tall, and were tightly packed with narrow streets and alleyways. But in the middle of the town, where Fae now found himself, the streets were set apart and formed a clearing to make way for the large town square which was bustling with noise. The voices intermingled tighter than a cord of cotton that had been formed into a jumper, until they were nothing more than a wave that swept seamlessly through the air becoming something incomprehensible to Fae. But Fae wasn't around for eavesdropping. It was prime time for trading in the city, and Fae had gone out to do just that. There were markets with grain and fruit and nuts and raisins. Stalls with weapons and tools tended to by hardy blacksmiths. Other merchants sold shoes and garments. Fae however had not come to buy, but to sell. And to sell something that only existed in writing, for Fae was a Traveller by trade and sold information about the most secluded and dangerous places that many brave knights dare not venture to. This was why what he had to sell was so valuable.

Indeed not more than an hour later, Fae's yield had been a pocket full of gold which he hoped would last him until he arrived at the next town. Shoulders bumped carelessly against him as he pushed through the crowds towards the inn where he had hired a room, with only a few apologetic looks cast his way. The inn he was staying at was built into a narrow lane with walls towering high on either side. Few people seemed to wander these parts, although it felt like he'd had to swim through a sea of them to get there. The inn was quiet, he strode past the bar then down the hallway and unlocked the door to his room. He unstrapped his sword and fell asleep almost before his head hit the soft feather filled mattress.

Fae woke, a little startled, from the sound of a loud gong. Its chime seemed to reverberate throughout the town. Again he heard it. And again. Three times in total. Although his head was hazy, it was obvious that something important was going on in the town. Travellers and townsfolk alike oft referred to this place as The City of Religion and he hoped that what was happening now may give him some inkling as to why. He quickly tightened his garments, strapped on his sword, threw his pack over his shoulders and was on his way.

The streets were almost empty, and the few people who were about whisked past in a hurry. Fae followed them eagerly. They led him to a large crowd standing in front of a podium. Upon the podium was a speaker. The speaker looked wise in years, and was dressed in long flowing robes. He moved gracefully about gesturing to and fro with his hands. And he spoke elegantly with a soft voice. Fae took his journal from his pack along with a traveller's quill and a vile of ink, and began to scribe what he heard.

The bell rings and the crowds gather he wrote, they stand before a podium before a man who speaks.

He speaks of wealth.

He speaks of gain.

He speaks of health.

No toil, no pain.

There are no worries, he says. One may do as one may please. Eat, drink, be merry.

Good will come, for no danger awaits. None at all.