Walking down the elven road

Chapter 1

She's walking down the track. Her shoes are worn by the walking, her clothes are covered in dust. She doesn't know exactly how long she has been walking like this, but she knows it's been a long time. She hasn't walked the road out of elven land before, the elves rarely leave their empire. They would find themselves in the lands of the savages, the lands of the uncivilized, unintelligent humans. The elven woman is tired, she's hungry and wants to wash herself and go to sleep, but she doesn't know how far it is to the first town or hamlet. A crossing appears, and when she arrives she sees a couple of signposts. There are words on them, the writing of the humans, carved into the wood. The elven woman has never learnt to read the savage language, it was considered far, far below her class. She is able to speak it though, because he father, a wealthy merchant, taught her. He used to say it was important to be able to communicate with your neighbors.

The elven woman stops at the crossing, she is too tired. After a long time a cart rides by at her right side. An old nag is pulling the cart, it walks slowly. The young driver reins up his horse when he sees her sitting there. "Hello," he says, "Where are you going?" "Where a warm bed and a good meal are," she answers. "Get in the cart, I'm going to Corntown, I'll bring you to a place where you can stay the night." Grateful, she climbs up the cart next to the driver. She pushes her tangled, auburn hair behind her ears. The driver suddenly looks at her in a strange way.

 "What's wrong?" she asks.

"Holy crap," he says, "You're an elf."

"Yes," she confirms, "Something wrong?"

"The folks around here hate the elves, you should better cover your ears." He searches for something in the cart, and pulls out a cloth. "Take it, put this around your head. Nobody will see you have pointy ears. You've got a funny accent, by the way."

They head to Corntown, which is just a two hour drive away, according to the driver. The nag walks on in his slow manner, while the boy simply doesn't stop talking. After a while, he asks: "My name is Arion, by the way. What's your name?" She doesn't look in his eyes. "I don't have a name anymore," she whispers. Fortunately he doesn't keep asking.

The couple actually does arrive two hours later in Corntown, which isn't much more than an overgrown village. "I've come here for the market," Arion explains, "My lord is too busy to occupy himself with buying the essential, not-fun-to-buy stuff like food. But first we're going to find an inn, the market won't be here until tomorrow!" Arion directs the horse through a couple of roads, big and small, while people greet him all the way to the inn. The inn he chooses is called "The Millstone". "It's probably nothing like what you're used to," he says, "But they take good care of their guests without asking all of their money and more." They get out of the cart, and bring the horse to the stables. Their cart is pushed in a shed, and they grab the few things Arion has brought with him. When they step inside the inn, they head for the counter, where the fat innkeeper is having a discussion with a couple of tipsy guests on the subject of how many beers a man is allowed to consume before considered drunk. "Hang on for a moment," he tells them when he sees Arion and the elven woman approaching. "Good evening, sir Arion and lady," he greets them, "What is the cause of your visit?"

"We would like to have a hot meal and a room," Arion answers.

"There's just one room unoccupied, on the back of the building, We've got some fine stew left" the innkeeper says, "It's on the account of the Crown prince, as usual?"

"Yes please. Could you take our meal to our room?" Arion asks. The fat man nods.