The Stone of The Sorceress

Chapter 1

The scent of iron and leather hung thick in the air of The Baron's Bounty, a humble shop wedged between the bustling market square and the shadow of the old city walls. Flynn Harrogate pushed the creaking wooden door open, his boots kicking up the faint dust of the stone floor. Sunlight filtered in through a grimy window, glinting off racks of weapons and shelves lined with odds and ends—daggers, trinkets, and tarnished shields.

Behind the counter stood the Baron himself, though he was no noble. The name was a joke, Flynn supposed, for the old man had none of the grace or wealth of the upper class. His wiry frame was draped in a threadbare tunic, his gnarled hands busy polishing a blade. The Baron looked up, his steel-gray eyes sharp despite his age.

"Looking for something, lad? Or just here to gawk?" His voice was gravelly but not unkind.

Flynn stepped forward, his fingers brushing a sword on the rack nearest to him. It was heavier than he expected, the weight solid and foreign in his hand. He tested the balance awkwardly before setting it back down, embarrassed. "I need a sword," he said, a little too quickly.

The Baron arched a bushy brow. "Plenty of swords here. Question is, what d'you need it for?"

Flynn hesitated, running a hand through his tousled hair. He knew this question would come, but saying it out loud made it feel all the more real. "I'm... heading out. Beyond the city."

The Baron chuckled dryly. "A lot of 'beyond' out there. Bandits? A rival you've angered? Or maybe you're just trying to look the part of a hero."

Flynn stiffened, meeting the old man's gaze. "I'm no hero," he admitted. "But I'm not staying here either. Not anymore."

He turned away from the Baron's piercing stare, his eyes wandering over the other weapons in the shop. "This city... it's fine for some people. People who don't mind wasting their lives on the same streets, doing the same things day after day. But I want something more."

"And what is it you want, then?" The Baron leaned on the counter, his voice softened by curiosity.

Flynn paused, unsure if he could explain it without sounding foolish. He took a breath. "There's a story—an old one. About a stone. They say it's hidden somewhere, far to the west. The Stone of the Sorceress. I've read the tales, listened to the travelers. Some say it's just a myth, but others... they've seen things. Ruins, signs."

The Baron's face remained unreadable, though his grip on the blade he polished tightened.

"I'm going to find it," Flynn continued, his voice steady now. "If it's real, it could change everything. My life. My... place in the world. Maybe even the kingdom itself."

The Baron let out a low whistle, setting the sword aside. "Big dreams for someone who doesn't even know how to hold a blade properly."

Flynn flushed but stood his ground. "Everyone starts somewhere."

The old man studied him for a long moment, then nodded toward the far wall. "Third rack, second row. Take the longsword with the worn hilt. It's balanced better than most of what I sell here, and it won't cost you half your purse."

Flynn blinked, surprised by the sudden generosity. "You're just going to let me buy it? No lecture about how foolish I am?"

"Oh, you're plenty foolish," the Baron said with a wry grin. "But sometimes fools stumble onto things that the rest of us are too afraid to chase. Just make sure you don't get yourself killed before you even draw it, eh?"

Flynn managed a small smile, pulling the suggested sword from its place on the rack. It wasn't much to look at, but it felt solid in his hand. He slid a handful of coins across the counter, and the Baron waved him off.