Badenar

Early morning light found the gypsy caravan already on the move. As the town of Badenar stretched out before them, Aelar turned to Tarn and asked, "What makes Badenar special, Tarn?" he asked, his eyes anxiously scanning the town's streets and alleys.

Tarn chuckled, adjusting his hat against the sun. "Special? Badenar's not the town for mysteries or legends, lad. It's plain and simple."

Aelar raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? But every place has a story."

Tarn leaned in, his voice taking on a matter-of-fact tone. "Badenar's story is that of convenience. It's the closest town to Marud, making it a safe haven. You won't find dark secrets or hidden treasures here. What you will find are travelers. Lots of them. They either stop by for a rest on their way to Marud or take a breather after leaving it."

Aelar looked around and said, "So, it's just a... stopover?"

Tarn nodded, "Exactly. A pause in people's journeys. A place to rest, resupply, and move on. Don't get me wrong, it's a fine town, but if you're searching for excitement or tales, you might be looking in the wrong place."

Aelar sighed, a tad disappointed but grateful for the candid insight. "Thanks, Tarn. It's good to know what to expect."

Tarn clapped Aelar on the back, smiling. "Every place has its role, and Badenar's role is to offer a moment of respite in a traveler's tale."

The streets leading to Badenar were bustling with activity. A constant stream of carts, pedestrians, and livestock painted a vivid picture of a thriving town. The closer the caravan got to the entrance, the more evident the town's bustle became.

Encircling Badenar was a wall, short in height but sturdy. Stretching roughly five to six kilometers, it served as a protective measure around the town. The main gate, a robust wooden structure reinforced with metal bands, stood guarded by a handful of vigilant soldiers.

As the gypsies approached, one of the guards abruptly stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Keep all your troubles outside," he warned the group, his voice firm but not unkind. "We like our peace in Badenar."

Once inside, the town's lively atmosphere enveloped them. The cobblestone streets pulsed with the laughter of children chasing each other, the enticing aroma of food wafted from street vendors, and the vibrant market square buzzed with activity. Shops lined the alleys - from barbers with their sharp razors and talkative clientele, tailors displaying colorful fabrics, butchers carving up the day's catch, to merchants hawking an array of goods.

Aelar's sharp eyes later caught sight of a familiar insignia – that of the Agni Academy. "An outpost of the academy here?" he questioned, pointing towards the modest building.

Tarn nodded, following Aelar's gaze. "The academy has roots spread far and wide, lad. They're everywhere, from grand branches to small outposts, ensuring the balance of magic and order."

Before Aelar could inquire more, the tantalizing scent of freshly baked bread enticed them. Drawn by the aroma, the caravan found themselves outside a welcoming tavern. The gypsies, after their lengthy journey, were more than ready for a hearty meal. They all settled in, ordering generous portions of bread, meat, and ale.

Once their hunger was sated, Tarn leaned back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "We'll be pushing on soon, lad," he informed Aelar. "You can continue with us or choose your own path."

Aelar paused, feeling the weight of the decision. The allure of independent exploration tugged at his heart. "I think it's time I ventured out on my own," he finally declared, determination evident in his voice.

Tarn smiled approvingly, "Then may your path be filled with stories worth telling. Safe travels, Aelar."

Later, while exploring the town, Aelar arrived at Rudy's Den, an inn made of darkened wood and dim lighting known as a sanctuary for travelers. Aelar pushed open the door, and the chime above announced his arrival.

The owner, a round and well-built man with a large beard, looked up. "Aye, how can I help ya?"

"One room for the night," Aelar stated.

"That'll be 2 tronies," the man said, inspecting a rather dirty mug. "An extra troni if you fancy clean sheets."

Aelar's eyebrows shot up. "Isn't that a bit steep?"

The owner gave a dramatic sigh. "Look around. We're the gateway to Marud, a haven during the good weather season. Travelers from all around stop here. Demand, supply," he said, making a balancing gesture with his hands. "Basic tavern economics."

Slightly disgruntled but seeing no alternative, Aelar paid two tronies and headed to freshen up in the common wash areas. After a brief rest in his room, he wandered the streets in the evening, with curiosity guiding his steps. A lively tavern caught his attention, laughter spilling from its open doors. He entered and was immediately taken aback by the scantily clad women attending to the boisterous customers.

Despite feeling slightly out of place, his curiosity got the better of him, and he went in to order a drink.

As he sipped the drink, a flamboyant man from a neighboring table, with eyeliner thicker than Aelar's thumb, leaned over. "You have that 'new in town' glint in your eye. What brings you to our humble abode?"

"Just passing through," Aelar replied cautiously.

The conversation meandered from topic to topic until Aelar was cajoled into joining a card game. Despite his best efforts, he left the table with his pockets considerably lighter. Cursing his gullibility, he returned to Rudy's Den.

Dinner was a simple but delicious affair, with the aroma of fresh bread and roasted meat filling the air. Aelar struck up a conversation with a waitress, who had an uncanny ability to roll her eyes every time she spoke. "Looking for adventure? This town? Pfft! All we've got are roads leading to Marud and that puny academy outpost."

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But, if you head out, about a four-hour walk from here, there's a village. And then," she added with a dramatic pause, "beyond that are the hills known to shelter tribals, exotic animals, and a rare few bandits."

Feeling grateful for the tip, Aelar retired for the night. The following day saw him briskly exiting the inn, the promise of adventure in his eyes. After walking for hours, he crossed the village and ventured into the hills, a sprawling maze of over 200 mounds blanketed with dense forests.

Suddenly, rough hands grabbed him. Bandits! One pressed a knife to his throat. "Empty your pockets, boy," the leader growled.

Terrified, Aelar complied. As the bandit rummaged through Aelar's belongings, he scoffed at the trinkets but pocketed the tronies.

Spotting Aelar trying to summon a water spell, he nicked Aelar's neck with his knife. "Trying some magic, are we?"

"I'm just a novice at the academy," Aelar stammered.

The bandit grinned. "Lucky for you, we've no desire to cross paths with the academy." He looked at Aelar, amusement dancing in his eyes. "But let's teach you a lesson about the real world." He took his knife, leaving a stinging cut on Aelar's forearm.

Barely holding back tears, Aelar decided to push his luck. "If you don't want trouble from the academy, return my money."

The bandits erupted in laughter. The leader saying, "Run along, boy. And count yourself lucky."

Aelar, with a terrified expression, darted deeper into the hills. Behind him, the bandits exchanged amused glances. The leader shook his head, chuckling. "Why's he running deeper in? Some people just don't have a sense of direction!"