fog

A thick fog had settled into the valley by the time I arrived, so thick the sentries didn't even challenge me as I approached. At least the gates were closed. They finally let me in after I spent a few minutes knocking as loudly as I could--"Got to keep the bandits away," they hissed as they shut the gates after me--and then I was just another poor soul out braving the freezing mists. All the windows and signs, I noticed as I wandered that desolate little town, had little tendrils of rime growing on them. 

Everything seemed so oddly quiet as I walked the streets--slow, careful steps, keeping close to the buildings so they were more than just indistinct shapes in the distance--and my footsteps, careful as they were, seemed far too loud in my ears, like they were intruding on this town's peace. Maybe I was. Maybe the fog was for me, warning me away. But if so, I ignored it. I had better things to worry about.

I found the inn by looking for a building with a fire burning, but even if the cheerful glow cut through the fog like a beacon, inside both the patrons and the serving staff seemed defeated already. They looked up as I entered, registered who I was--a sword and a red sash was enough, I think--and then fell into an expectant silence. Some of them wore faces of hope, some of trepidation.

"Didn't expect any travelers with this fog," said the innkeeper. 

"I like to defy expectations." I offered them a smile that was probably more predatory than friendly. A little fear never hurt anyone. "I hear you've had problems with bandits. I'm for hire."

The room softened. "Could be the fog's just the thing we needed," said the innkeeper, with a wry smile. "You rest a minute, get something to eat. I'll send for the man you need to talk to."

***

The man in question looked like a merchant, though he identified himself as the seneschal. There was ambition and cunning in his eyes; he gave me an evaluating look and nodded. "I assume you're offering to train up a militia? We do have a master-at-arms already, unfortunately. The problem--"

"I had something more direct in mind. You know where their camp is?"

Those ambitious eyes lit up. "I do. Or rather--"

"Your scouts do, yes. Guide me there, and I'll end the threat. The fog will be enough confusion that they can't organize a defense, and it'll make them more likely to scatter."

"Well, pull this off and you'll have quite the bounty waiting for you--and I think I could use someone of the skill you claim to possess for some . . . future endeavors. If you're interested.

He didn't trust me, but he did send his scouts to guide me to the bandits' camp. And from that shrouded vantage I walked deeper into the mists, into a future free from wandering.