The Tale of Morgon

January 16, 2018
By Anonymous

There was once a time when I was a normal child among many others in my small village. Though one trait about me was different than the others. My father and I actually survived the attack of barbarians that came from the Westlands. At the age of five, I lived in the woods with my father after returning from a hunting trip, only to find that everything I had known was destroyed before me. I was so young I had no idea what was going on. My father and I left our past behind. I remember wanting to stay and help those who might still be alive. But my father was telling me that there was no use of trying. I made sure to promise myself that I would do whatever it takes to protect those who cannot defend themselves.


We then lived in the Ghreven Forest from that point on. A place that is home to countless creatures and beasts that people only tell tales of seeing. Our new home was in a tall and burley Plumbarc tree. The yellow leaves brought vibrant colors to our tiny makeshift home in the treetops. I remembered watching the bright and shining stars above every night before I went to sleep. My father would always tell me that I was destined for great things that are yet to come.


As I grew up, I began to learn more about the Ghreven Forest and its inhabitants. How they think. How they move. How they hunt. I had to live off of the common prey that roamed the forest. Mainly deer, elk and the occasional bear. My dream was to bring home an exotic creature and keep something of it as a trophy. A claw would even do me good. I dreamed of using my trusty bow that was made solely from Plumbarc trees. Fitted only for me, with carvings of a stag on the front of it. I became a master of hunting in these woods.


There were occasional travellers that made their ways through the forest. I remember when I was twenty four, I came across two nobleman who were trying to get to a grand keep on the other side of the forest. I remember the two of them were very ignorant of the forest, yet both of them decided it was a good idea. They were clothed in high class silk and hats with feathers to show their wealth. They were wearing contrasting colors; one in red, the other in blue. Their caravan was stopped by a pack of Dire Wolves. A common threat that roam the grounds at night. They had teeth that were as sharp as a blade from a blacksmith. Eyes that possessed nothing but hunger and hatred for those who dared to stare into them. The nobleman shrieked in fear as they had no way of protecting themselves. I had to aid them.


I took one of my arrows and set the tip of it ablaze. I sent it flying towards one of the Dire Wolves. It let out a nasty howl as the arrow pierced its leg, causing the others to look for the source of the shot. Everyone turned to see a man with a thick dark brown beard clothed in makeshift clothing used to protect himself from the dangers of the forest. I was ready to let another arrow go into another wolf, but they got the message, all of them running away while the one that was pierced limping behind the others.


“Words cannot define the service you have done for us sir.” The nobleman in red said to me. “We were running late on a delivery for the governor and decided to take a faster route through these forests. I guess you can assume that this was not a good idea to go in without any form of protection.”


“These woods are home to some of the dangerous creatures in the realms and yet you both think it is okay to waltz through in the middle of the night with a dimly lit candle on your carriage?” I said in a agitated tone.


“An honest mistake that won’t be made twice, I assure you.” Said the nobleman in blue. “Dearest me. Where are my manners? I am Marvin Avilon. This is my brother Norice. Who might you be?”


That was a question I had not thought of for a while. My father and I usually minded our own business in these woods. We didn’t have to address each other by name, simply because there was no reason to. No one else was around to bother us. The animals were unable to speak to us. It was just my father and I.


“My name is Morgon, The Huntsman of Ghreven.” I replied. Saying this out loud for the first time seemed ridiculous and quite a lot to say. Perhaps my title could use some work.


“Well Morgon, my brother and I are in a hurry in hopes that we can deliver this precious cargo to the keep.” Said Norice. “Is there any chance that you could accompany us on the journey there in hopes that we make it? If you accept, I promise to grant you a share of our earnings.”


There was no purpose for gold out here in the woods. Nothing to be bought or sold. Sure a travelling salesman have made their way through here before, but they are more often than not a scam. I was about to turn them down, yet I felt something call to me. As if I needed to do this in order to achieve something greater. Maybe this was something that I was destined to do. As I stood there contemplating the offer, I had a brief memory of my village burning to the ground and telling my father I wish to aid the survivors. I remembered the promise I made to myself. I was done with hiding in the woods away from the rest of civilization. It was my turn to become the hero.


“I accept. The best route is to follow the river north. I’ll show you.” I said.


“Excellent,” Said Marvin. “Lead the Way.”


The author's comments:

This is a tale for a fantasy world I have been drafting for some time about a man who has lost everything and found hope in the world of nature.


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