The Envoy

The Envoy is a work of literature in the Ageless Realm. Written during the 2nd century 4A by a Drotlandian author named Aven Leaftwig who also is the protagonist.

Plot

The plot follows Aven as he is employed as a royal envoy by the forgotten king Elfstan Galbassi, and embarks on an adventure that sees Aven helping Elfstan reclaiming the throne of Drotland.

Chapter 1: Windborne

In the Second century of the Fourth Age there was a kingdom without a king named Drotland. The leaders had become greedy and internal conflict had torn the nation apart. Much can be said about those in power and their ways, but that is for another story. Our tale begins as many tales do - with a man, or actually a boy, living a peaceful life in a quaint little town. He was totally unaware of the grand events unfolding in the shadows which would change his life forever.

He had inherited his father's name Aven and from his late mother Brunhilda he was given the family name Leaftwig. The Leaftwigs were an old family of half-elves and the name bore some respect in Cold Crossing - the town wherein our story will begin. So, the young man's name was therefore Aven Leaftwig. On the eve of his birth, a late summer's night seventeen years ago, a warming wind travelled up along the Sondruid River, stirred the ripe barley fields and eventually filled the bedchamber of the Leaftwig's house with the fresh air of wonder and hope. Growing up, Aven often stood facing the wind and dreamt of all the places it had visited before it swept through his brown locks and chilled his tanned skin. Eventually he inherited his father's job as town messenger, you would probably have called him a postman or a courier but in Cold Crossing Aven was the town messenger, and he was a good one at that. His teenage years passed steadily under the Violet Skye and Aven found himself an independent and lucky young man, just when his life was truly about to begin.

Chapter 2: A royal letter

As Aven was working on a regular Morday, he had a letter that was to be delivered to one Mr. Hobbesworth on Nook Hill in the Southern outskirts of Cold Crossing. That meant he was going to pass by his favourite place in the entire town, the Twisted Oak, which was an old tree that stood overlooking the surrounding landscape. Aven's steps were light as feathers as he walked the path leading up the hill, and without thinking he reached for the coarse bark of the tree as he took a deep breath which filled his lungs with a sense of nostalgia that almost hurt a little inside before he exhaled and whatever worries he might have had were washed away. Time completely seized to be as he stood there taking in the beautiful view of the rolling farmlands which led to the old crumbling palisade surrounding the town. He saw a raftsman steering a small vessel along the calm Fawn River, which split Cold Crossing in two. Aven loved his home and he liked to imagine that the love was not unrequited.

His meditative state was interrupted by a voice from down the hill;

- Hello there! A fine day for sure, but one's job needs to be done even so.

Aven turned around to find a male halfling standing with his hands cupped around his mouth to make sure his voice was carried all the way to where Aven was standing. This was probably the person to whom the letter was to be delivered, so Aven smiled and answered in a raised voice:

- Well yes! Mr. Hobbesworth I presume?

- Indeed. I saw you from my window and took it upon myself to meet you half way so to speak. Especially since you chose to linger here on the hill.

- I am truly sorry, the view simply captivates me sometimes. Here, your letter Sir and my well wishes.

He had reached the halfling who didn't seem too upset by the stroll Aven had forced him to take.

- Don't you worry, I am in no hurry.

The halfling smiled and unfolded the letter infront of Aven. He stood there reading for some time before looking up at the town messenger and said:

- Well, I need to answer this. Could you come by tomorrow?

- Of course Mr. Hobbesworth. I'll be around Nook Hill at noon tomorrow then! A good day to you.

- And to you too.

They smiled and went their separate ways.

Aven opened his satchel bag and counted the letters. Only two more before he was free to go home. He could already taste the ale and feel the afternoon sun on his face as he took some well earned rest after his day of work. But for now, the next letter needed to be delivered. Aven reached down into the bag and pulled out a square folded letter made from expensive parchment and wax sealed with a seal he had never seen before; a hammer inside a sun. He could tell that the person who had written the address was schooled in the Dwarven culture as the letters were almost runic in their style. He read the name of the recipient out loud:

- Elfstan Sunhammer.

As he pronounced the surname a gust wind pushed Aven to take two steps forward onto the road that led out of Cold Crossing and into countryside beyond. He looked at the address and saw that he was to follow the wind. He could feel it but not name it. That feeling of grave importance lying just beyond the bend of the road. Life as he knew it, balancing on a knife edge.

Type

Manuscript, Literature