484 Eldermill
[BONUS]
The village of Eldermill lies deep within Verdant Woods. It consisted of a score of wooden houses centered around a large mill and was inhabited by roughly a hundred settles, mostly ordinary elves, a small number of halflings, dwarves, sprites, and even beastfolk.
Usually alive with industry, the moon in town was sour in the wake of the dire events of recent weeks. As twilight settles in each night, the villagers board up their houses and burn bright lanterns in a feeble attempt to keep the darkness at bay.
Ren arrived at the village at noon, though.
The dense forest opened up into a large area that had been cleared of trees. A red-painted mill towered some ten meters above a score of wooden houses. Though smoke rises from several chimneys, the streets were mostly empty. Gaunt animals loitered on the side of the street, and the baaing of sheep could be hard faintly from the fields further ahead.
As Ren entered into the town proper, he saw that a small crowd of people had gathered near the base of the mill. Here, a middle-aged woman stood before two dozen townsfolk, her arms raised in a calming gesture. The air seemed thick with anger – and fear.
“I hear you, friends, I hear you! You’re afraid. And rightly so! But we cannot abandon Eldermill just because the road gets a little bumpy. We’ve invested too much – sacrificed too much – to give up our home so easily,” the woman said loudly, quieting most of the crowd.
Before she could continue, an elderly dwarf interrupted her, “Bumpy, Amilia? A dozen cattle claimed by the pale rot in a week, and ye’ call that bumpy?” the dwarf said angrily, only to be interrupted himself by a woman’s tearful shriek.
“My Tomas didn’t come home after hunting yesterday! If anything happens to him, I don’t know what . . . ,” she trailed before sobs wracked her body.
“I know, I know. It’s bad. But I’ve already sent word to the city, and help should be arriving any day now. You just need to . . .” the broad-shouldered woman, Amilia, trailed off as she noticed Ren approaching.
“Just look, help has come!” she said, pointing at Ren. “Well met, traveler. You arrive not a second too soon!”
Turning again to the villagers, who stared at Ren with a mixture of fear and hope, she smiled and said, “Go home, friends, while I speak to this, brave folk. Take heart. Our trials shall soon be over.”
The crowd dispersed, some whispering and casting appraising glances at Ren. When they were gone, the smile slipped from Amilia’s face to reveal deep lines of worry.
“I hope I have not oversold you. I am Amilia, mayor of Eldermill. Please, let’s talk.”
To be honest, Ren didn’t know what would happen in Eldermill or Verdant Forest. He was clueless about this place and about this quest. He guessed that this scene was prompted when he accepted the Mistwood Trading Company’s quest.
Otherwise, nothing would have happened if he had entered the town of Eldermill.
Though he liked the suspense and mystery of things, he needed to hurry in his quest for money.
Amilia led Ren into her home – a large house next to the mill – and bid him to sit at her dining table.
They introduced each other, and Ren handed the Mistwood Trading Company’s letter, and Amilia read it.
Amilia took a deep breath and hid the letter before facing Ren and asked, “Where are you heading, Ren?”
“To Viscendra’s Hut,” Ren replied straight to the point.
Amilia’s eyes widened slightly. “At the witch’s hut?”
There was a surprise in her voice before she calmed down and said, “Her hut is near this village. You can stay here in town for a few days and help out.”
She took a deep breath while slightly shaking her head. “There’s no sugar coating it . . . times are tough. Crops and livestock are dying, trees rotting from within, dark shadows in the night, and dark elves wreaking havoc here and there. Townsfolk turning up dead or going missing. Even my own . . .”
Amilia paused briefly. “Even my own brother, Aimon, disappeared while he was out hunting a few weeks ago.”
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“At first, they stuck to scaring our hunters and sabotaging our mills and quarries. But now they’ve cast some sort of curse on the land. We’ve only ever wanted peace with them, but they seemed determined to destroy us,” she said, slamming an angry fist down on the table.
“I’ll die rather than let them scare us away. But, hopefully, it’ll not come to that. Now that you’re here. Will you help us? You will be rewarded 100 000 gil if you can help end the curse that has fallen upon Eldermill.”
Hmm . . . Wasn’t this the same quest as the Mistwood Trading Company? Ren thought. If he solved the problem of the village, then that meant trade would be resumed. It was like hitting two birds with one stone, so he accepted.
Amilia’s face brightened, and she added additional information.
“The problem began three weeks ago, around the same time my brother, Aimon, went missing while hunting in the Verdant Woods. Since then, three villagers have turned up dead – gray and lifeless but with no obvious injuries – after venturing into the woods. And another, the hunter Tomas, had just gone missing yesterday.
“No one dares to go out at night anymore. During the day, most of the villagers are in their homes or at The Beak and Crow, the villager’s tavern. You can speak with the villagers to learn more.
“I am convinced that the dark elves are behind this dark curse to torture us, though I don’t know how. No one knows exactly where the dark elves hide in the Verdant Woods except that it’s somewhere to the north.”