I don't know if I like how the village has changed. In just a few months it's gone from a small hamlet, where everyone knew each other, to a large city. I'd say it all came down to a change in leadership. Once we were under the thumb of a rather deranged wizard, Iztram. I don't know how he came to rule Midrange Keep, and us with it. He ruled with an iron fist and barely left us with enough to live off of after taxing us. Merchant caravans had stopped coming through because of the tolls, and life was getting really bad. The people were on the verge of revolt, then it happened. He was killed.
Our liberators had heard about troubles in the capitol, when they went to investigate they found the King under a spell. They killed Iztram, breaking the spell, saving the King and possibly the realm with him. They then aided in the defense of the capitol against a large force of dark elves, their spells and leadership assuring victory. For all their work they were awarded Midrange Keep and the surrounding lands.
They're around sometimes, but most often they are away. I've seen them once when they first came into town. They stopped by the tavern before even going to their castle, talked with a few people. Things improved rather quickly. They must make plenty of money running around doing their good deeds, one of the first things they did was lower the taxes to almost nothing. I've heard from the guards stationed at the castle that they don't tax us more than the King taxes them. They also came into possession of some sort of magic item that allowed for the rapid construction of buildings. They set to work immediately improving our housing and expanding the village. Caravans started coming back, and with them more and more people that settle down and stay. Before I knew it, we had become a large city.
Here I am, still a street watchman, with more people came more crime. It isn't much yet, sometimes a person gets lost on the roads going south, or a spat over whose property ends where will lead to a small fight. Mostly, I still respond more to reports of missing livestock than cases of theft or other crimes. In fact that's what I'm up to now.
“I'm telling you, Nivar. Something stole'er,” the old man's voice was more than a little loud as he related to me what happened. “She was a real prize cow, best milk in th'city. Sh'was always docile she'd never run off before, and ain't never'ven thrown a-fit. I saw't, broke right though m'fences n' drug 'er off! Just a big shadow, 'n thennothing!”
Drunk, just what I need, old man Winterleaf spinning stories of monsters stealing livestock.
I'd just write this off as another runaway and leave it for a tracker to find the wayward beast, but there was one thing that made me stay and ask, “Can you describe what took your cow? Or was it too dark?” I knew I wasn't going to get an accurate report from him but the fence was definitely crushed inward, and, while this wasn't the first time something like this has happened in the last few days, this was the first time the livestock taken was bigger than a person.
“No, I 'lready told you there was a big shadow in th'dead 'f night, not even the moon wanted to show it up! But lookit those tracks it must've left'm,” This was also the first time I had a trail to follow after. I saw a slight furrow in the ground as if something big was dragged around, and here and there inside it, a strangely shaped clawed footprint.
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