Astaria: A New Dawn

CH 86: Journey to Scarpath Mountain

Harry woke up with the soft light of dawn filtering through the small window of his room at the inn. The quiet hum of the village beginning its day stirred him from sleep, and after a moment, he rolled out of bed and stretched. Today, his journey would take him to the imposing Scarpath Mountain Range, but first, he was curious about the town of Clawhaven Retreat.

After quickly getting dressed and gathering his things, Harry headed downstairs to the inn's cozy common area. The scent of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee filled the air. The innkeeper, a cheerful woman with silver hair pulled back into a loose bun, greeted him with a warm smile as she placed a plate of eggs, sausage, and toast in front of him.

"Good morning, love. How'd you sleep?" she asked, bustling around the tables, checking on other patrons.

"Like a rock," Harry chuckled. "I was pretty worn out from all the walking yesterday."

She laughed. "Aye, that tends to happen around here. The forest and valley will do that to a man. But you've got the look of someone who's not quite done yet. What's next for you?"

"I was thinking of heading toward the Scarpath Mountain Range today," Harry said between bites. "It looks like a challenge, and I'm curious to see what's beyond those peaks."

The innkeeper's eyes twinkled. "Scarpath, is it? Well, you're in for a treat. It's not an easy climb, mind you, but the views are worth it. If you're looking for a bit of magic—something truly special—you'll want to visit the Whispering Caves. They're hidden halfway up the range, and they say the spirits of the mountain dwell there."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Whispering Caves, huh? Sounds intriguing."

"Oh, it is," she nodded enthusiastically. "But before you set off, I'd suggest you take a stroll through town. Clawhaven's small, but we've got some good folks here. The market's lively in the mornings, and Old Joren, the blacksmith, loves a chat if you've the time. And don't miss the herbalist's shop. Elina's potions are the best in these parts."

"Thanks for the tips. I'll definitely check those out," Harry replied with a smile, finishing off his breakfast.

After paying the innkeeper and thanking her for the meal, Harry decided to explore the town a bit before heading to the mountains. The streets were alive with townspeople going about their morning routines. Small wooden houses with thatched roofs lined the main road, and the scent of freshly baked goods wafted from a nearby bakery.

As he wandered, he came across a bustling market square, where villagers were selling everything from fruits and vegetables to handmade goods. A friendly butcher called out to him, waving a massive cleaver.

"New face around here, eh? Need some supplies for your journey?"

Harry grinned. "Maybe later. I'll definitely need some food before heading out."

Further down the road, Harry spotted the blacksmith's shop. He stepped inside, greeted by the rhythmic clang of hammer on metal. Old Joren, a burly man with a white beard and soot-covered arms, looked up from his work and gave Harry a nod.

"Morning. You look like you've seen a few battles," Joren said, sizing Harry up.

Harry smiled. "I've had my fair share."

"Well, if you ever need a good blade, you come to me. I don't make the fanciest of swords, but they'll hold up in a fight."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said, appreciating the craftsmanship on display.

After spending some time chatting with Joren and browsing the shops, Harry made his way to Elina's herbalist shop. The small building smelled of herbs and dried flowers, and Elina, a kindly woman with a calming presence, offered Harry a selection of potions for his journey. He thanked her, purchasing a few healing potions just in case.

By the time Harry left the market, it was nearing midday. His stomach rumbled, so he found a small café on the edge of town for lunch. The waitress, a young woman with freckles, served him a hearty stew and a loaf of fresh bread.

"Heading out of town?" she asked as she refilled his water.

"Yeah, I'm heading toward the mountains," Harry replied. "Any advice?"

"Stay warm at night. The mountains get cold, even in summer," she warned, with a smile. "And watch out for the wild boar. They roam the lower slopes this time of year."

"I'll keep my eye out. Thanks."

After lunch, Harry felt ready to continue his journey. He packed up his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and set off down the road leading out of Clawhaven. The path to Scarpath Mountain was rugged, but the air was crisp, and the landscape was breathtaking. Towering peaks loomed ahead, their snow-covered tops gleaming in the afternoon sun.

By the time Harry reached the base of the mountain range, the sun was starting to dip toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the rocky terrain. He decided it would be best to set up camp for the night before attempting any sort of climb.

Finding a flat, sheltered area, Harry unpacked his tent and set up camp. Once his fire was crackling, he pulled out his notebook, using the firelight to write down everything he'd seen that day—the friendly faces in Clawhaven, the market, and the enchanting scenery of the valley.

"I'll need to explore the Whispering Caves tomorrow," Harry muttered to himself as he sketched a rough map of the area. "Keldor wasn't kidding about this place. It's magical in every sense of the word."

Satisfied with his notes, Harry crawled into his tent, the sounds of the wilderness around him soothing in their familiarity. As the stars began to twinkle overhead, he felt a deep sense of peace. The adventure was just beginning, and tomorrow held the promise of even more discoveries.

With that thought, he drifted off to sleep, the crackling of the fire the last sound he heard.