Part 1: Southwold

33 1 7
                                    


          My home, constructed on the base of a river, the burg of Southwold was home to humans lead by Dutchess Masser. This burg wasn't built by a river on accident, as it had rare plants, which was of great importance to the people of Southwold and its success. The burg itself looked ordinary. With its half rotten rooftops, faded marble walls and dirty roads, Southwold had a dreary atmosphere. The main attraction was the old watchtower, which was built 41 years prior to the town and designed by goblins.

           Southwold had a failing economy, which was barely supported by fishing, engineering and war. But their biggest strengths were intricate jewelcrafting and ancient wine brewing techniques. However, Southwold lacked people skilled in armorsmithing. Despite its strengths, Southwold was headed towards a grisly future under the leadership of Dutchess Masser. This was my home for as long as I could remember. I knew every nook and cranny better than the authorities that always wanted my head did. Ever since I was a child I stole to feed myself and broke into houses for shelter from the extremely frigid cold snaps which happened frequently. I knew I needed to leave this town for the risk was getting higher and my odds of survival slimmer. I stole enough gold to get me out of there and a ration of food that could last me for a week at most. I journeyed off through the cold streets which I loved so dearly. Onto the road away from town I noticed the air getting warmer and a great bright mass in the sky. I guessed that this was the mystical Sun.

          I saw strange plants and colors. Was this the world outside? I didn't see the aforementioned forest that I had studied extensively. This hadn't mattered because I had noticed beings other than hogs and humans. I saw deer and travelers of various heights and builds. I continued without hesitation excitement pulsing through me. I ended up very far down the path and I slowed. I looked back and saw my old hideout. A single tear slid down my cheek. I turned my back on the town and continued on my journey.  

The Chronicles of Zaor DrehariceWhere stories live. Discover now