Homeward Bound

The jetty drew closer. 20 long years ago was the last time I had felt continental soil beneath my feet, the last time I saw my family, the day I was exiled. 20 years of pain, torment, and back-breaking effort had been building to this very instance: my return. My very soul ached with anticipation.

The small merchant vessel came to a standstill. "I wish you the best o' luck in your future endeavours, Arthur. I'm 'fraid you're on your own from 'ere." The old man at the helm of the ship gave a comforting smile as he bowed his head. I nodded and thanked him before I jumped down onto the jetty. Touchdown.

The small fishing village I found myself in was called Rosstham. The people seemed to be content and well-fed. Compared to where I had come from, it was positively sleepy. It would have been a fantastic place to stay, but I couldn't waste even a day here. I had to find my way back to the family home. I couldn't go on any longer without knowing the fate of my loved ones and the rest of the estate. Unfortunately, my childhood memories didn't include the continent's geography in any great detail. The only valuable information I had was that I was the 2nd son of the Collinways of Burton and that we were vassals of the venerable Prince Thrimond. Again, unfortunately, Prince Thrimond was dead, and the Principality with him. Nonetheless, if I could reach a reasonably large town or city, I'm sure someone would know where, on this colossal landmass, the Principality of Thrimond once was. 20 years surely wouldn't be enough to wipe it from the history books. It's in living memory for Heaven's sake. However, the friendly people here were of no help. I came to the conclusion that next to none of the residents had ever really left the familiar safety of Rosstham.

That being said, I was directed down the East Road as the fastest route to a larger town. That same afternoon, I set out on the 3 day hike. The Sun had long since gone, by the time I decided to stop. I sat beneath a broad oak tree just off to the side of the road and thanked the heavens that the weather was favourable as I closed my eyes to sleep.

It was not the sun that woke me, but the passing of horses with metal shoes - a very unfamiliar sound. I could vaguely discern 3 silhouettes by the moonlight. 2 people were mounted, and 1 person walked behind them. I would have ignored their passing entirely, had I not overheard their conversation.

The 2 men on horseback were verbally abusing the person trailing behind them. "I'm not sure what you did to piss off the boss, but a piece of shit like you is best off dead anyway." The first man's gruff voice contrasted the second's sharply.

"Hehehe. to me, it just seems like a waste to kill a specimen such as this. We should be selling them instead, hehehe..."

My mind was quickly dragged to assumption that these men were slavers or thugs from some gang; this would have made the perfect start to any story. Additionally, I really could have used an horse. Them being nasty people made the decision easier for me. Time to go beat up some bandits!