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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius. Today I am delighted to welcome Margaritte to the microphone; she will be bringing us another wonderful story from enderandrew, about the continuing travels of Zoe Marie the Bard.

Background music “Revisiting” by Smartsound

Zoe’s Travels: Braemar
By Zoe Marie the Bard

Pete told me I should visit Owl’s Head. It was the largest city in the Vale and was home to the Fire Lotus tavern. I intended to take his advice in due time, but I also like to wander off the beaten path from time to time to discover the unexpected. So instead I took the Kingsroad south to see where it would take me.

A few times on the road I heard hungry wolves howling and began to question taking the less travelled road, but as the sounds were behind me I pressed forward with haste. Eventually I came across Braemar. I was quite grateful to see the lights and fence that represented civilization.

A rather curt guard named Halmar quickly asked where I was from. He wanted to know if I was an outlander or had recently travelled through a portal to the south. I assured him I had not. Then he asked if had seen others who had. I informed him again I had not. I could tell by his demeanor and scars that he was a seasoned Knight from Norgard. How did he come to this quiet corner of the Vale?

I learned that he alone protected the once sleepy village, but no one had been sleeping as of late. Nightmares and attacks had become the norm. People spoke of an aggressive and organized group of cutthroats calling themselves the Red Sash Bandits. As if that weren’t enough, people had been attacked not only by wolves but also the walking dead.

They had but one farmer who fed Braemar, Seamus Olgard, and now he was scared to work his fields. Their hunter, Bodan Koren, did not seem optimistic that he alone could keep the wolf threat at bay.

Flynn Gibson was all too quick to agree to give me lodging in exchange for a performance. He was trying to provide an escape from the pervasive fear in his tavern. But he confided his stock was running low. He asked me to carry word in my travels to other towns to see if anyone had ale to spare.

I knew most ships had stopped sailing into Kingsport and I suspected that was the cause, but I could not reveal that bit of information without betraying the trust of the smugglers who arranged my transport to the Vale.

As the night wound down and the patrons filed out, I went upstairs to try and get some sleep. I was tired from traveling so fast. But as I closed my eyes, all I could dream of were the howls of wolves.

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