Gresvin's Departure & the Next Village

The old man, who had grey hair and a sloppy beard, was just as colorful. His stature was small, but Gresvin supposed it was due to his age, seeing as he was almost bending twofold. He needed a crutch to help him move. 

The elderly man stood and listened to the villager before he raised his brow and once more moved forward. He stopped only when he was three meters away from Gresvin. "I hear you intend to seek shelter in my village. We can indeed give you a place to stay if you are so kind as to identify yourself. We will not harbor any wanted men," the man said resolutely.

'Wanted men, huh? Well, I am, but not in this region, ' Gresvin smirked. My name is of no consequence, but I assure you I will not harm you or your village. There will be no danger related to this village. I swear it upon my family's name, ' Gresvin spoke smoothly and confidently. He wanted to clear up the confusion as fast as possible so that he could rest, and the best way was for him to swear upon his family name.

The old man was taken aback by Gresvin's oath, as only a few are willing to swear upon their family name, which is seen as the highest of oaths to warriors of Aethelgard. The elderly man continued to stare at Gresvin, hesitating whether or not to accept the stranger into the village.

After a few careful moments of thought, the man raised his brow once more and asked cautiously, "And that?" while gesturing towards the wound on his shoulder.

Gresvin looked at his wound and let out a depressed sigh: "I ventured into a forest near the base of the Howling Peaks mountain range when I was ambushed by a Carrion Stalker. This wound is from my battle against the beast." He retold the events pertaining to his wounds to convince the people that he posed no threat to them. He even told them his reason for appearing so abruptly. He needed medicine since his own could be said to be finished.

The whole village listened in earnest; most of them did not know what the beast that attacked Gresvin was, even when he explained the beast's appearance in detail. The only people who seemed to understand what beast he was talking about were the elderly man and a few more elders standing in the front of the crowd.

As he continued to speak of the recent events, more and more villagers had more or less started to lessen their guard. The elderly man turned around and spoke softly with a group of three men. Gresvin could not hear what the group of men had to discuss, so he patiently waited.

As he waited, he found it rather funny to see the occasional head pop up from the circle and carefully observe him.

It took a while, but the group of men eventually ended their discussion. This time, it was not the old man who spoke but a middle-aged one with long brown hair and a good-sized beard, "After some deliberation, we will allow you to stay in the village until you are healed. We just ask that you leave when you can. Things have not been easy on this side of the border the last few days. You coming here could attract unwanted attention."

Gresvin smiled and happily agreed, "Very well I will. Then can I wish to ask if any of you have medicine for my wounds" he continued.

The villagers still seemed somewhat wary of him and did not approach him easily. Gresvin knew that this was normal. He was walking down the dirt road when a woman spoke up and offered him medicine, which he gladly accepted.

Thus, the villagers returned to their everyday lives and continued to work diligently. Gresvin spent time here healing and watching the men and women of the village work. This village's main supply of food was the river beside it, where an abundance of fish was caught, but they also had a few pieces of fertile land just outside the few wooden buildings.

Gresvin found this interesting, and during the days he spent here, he learned much about agriculture. He saw how the fisherman used to cast into the river to yield a large amount of Trout. He quietly observed their movements, and after watching a few times, he learned how they fish.

He had stayed in the village for almost ten days, and the pain from his wound had already disappeared. 

The wound itself had also closed by a large margin; Gresvin knew that his time in this small village had almost come to an end. 

The villagers were busy the whole day with their work and hardly gave notice to Gresvin. He only observed their movements and their way of life during the day; he did not interfere, nor did he offer a helping hand. It was only when the villagers returned to the village that he would come down to the river and start fishing; he had started doing this when the pain had subsided; he used the same techniques that the fisherman used during the day, and at first, he was not able to catch anything.

There were days when he had absolutely no luck and caught nothing, but by the seventh day, Gresvin had finally caught his first fish, which looked similar to a trout. 

Gresvin was overjoyed by the revelation, and since the small Trout was the icebreaker, the fish he was able to catch grew.

Now, Gresvin knew that the villagers would probably not take the fish he caught as thanks; he had learned that although they were not that welcoming, they did not accept thanks or favors so readily. They would rather buy it than accept it for free.

Gresvin knew that since he had already tried to bargain with the village elder.

But even if he were to sell them, the village elder had told him they would not be able to buy much. Their village was relatively poor, and they mostly used equivalent exchanges with the other small villages surrounding them.