Esiel Market

Tal'Vor Wolfthorn his Son Rylán visit the village of Esiel for an annual Dragon Race and food festival. During their stay, something ominous is in the air leading up to a kidnapping. (Rough Work)

The red dusty sunset painted the sky and the three moons rose into the heavens, casting an ethereal glow upon the world. The air was thick with magic, and the faint whispers of ancient enchantments could be heard carried on the gentle breeze. In this realm, where time had woven together the wisdom of ages past and the secrets of the present, a great darkness had begun to spread its shadow.

It was a time of unprecedented unrest, as the forces of evil gathered their might, threatening to unleash their tyranny upon the world. The once peaceful kingdom was now caught in the grasp of war, and the people of Acroth trembled in fear, knowing that an unknown fate loomed over the realm.

But amidst this chaos talk of a hero, a figure of destiny with a soul as ancient as the mountains and a heart as pure as the morning dew circulated across the continents. Their journey was set in motion, and they bore the weight of prophecy upon their shoulders. As they ventured forth into the unknown, they knew they would be tested by both friend and foe, and that their choices would shape the fate of Acroth for generations to come. But as ancient powers awakened and long-forgotten enemies emerged, the stakes of their quest soared higher and higher. The destiny of Acroth hung in the balance, and whether the hero would rise to fulfill their fate or be consumed by the encroaching darkness remained uncertain. Only time would tell, as the battle for Acroth's future beckoned.

The village of Esiel lay nestled beneath a vivid tapestry of red dusty sunset, with three moons rising in the sky like ancient sentinels guarding the night. The air was filled with the promise of an impending Food Festival, the Festival of Arcane Delights, a celebration that had woven itself into the fabric of the village's history. As dusk settled, the villagers eagerly prepared for the festivities, adorning the streets with colorful banners and twinkling lights, giving Esiel an enchanting allure that seemed to beckon all who ventured within its bounds.

The scents of exotic spices and roasting meats entwined with the sweet aroma of freshly baked pastries, creating an intoxicating symphony that wafted through the village streets. The villagers, adorned in rich fabrics and vibrant colors, buzzed with excitement and a sense of trepidation. Whispers of ancient rituals and arcane wonders swept through the air, hinting at the deeply woven history and captivating mystique that surrounded the Festival of Arcane Delights.

Yet, beneath the jubilant facade of the festival, a palpable unease lingered among the villagers. Tales of dark omens and mysterious sightings had taken root, casting a shadow over the otherwise joyous occasion. As the night deepened and the stars began to shimmer in the sky, a sense of foreboding clouded the atmosphere. There was an undeniable tension, as though something dark and menacing lay hidden in the heart of Esiel, waiting to unfurl its sinister intentions at the most opportune moment. And so, as the village prepared for the grand festival, a disquieting sense of uncertainty loomed over the air, hinting at the impending arrival of forces beyond their wildest imaginings.

As the red dusty sunset cast its final hues upon the sky, the village of Esiel brimmed with life and anticipation, the air thick with the aroma of spices and laughter. The Artisans Cup, a medium-sized tavern owned by the jovial barkeeper known as Tipplewick, a portly figure with twinkling eyes and a ready grin, stood as a beacon of warmth and conviviality amidst the bustle of the village. The tavern was abuzz with the lively chatter of village folk, their mythical pet animals nestled at their feet, and a smattering of strangers from out of town.

The warm glow of candlelight illuminated the rustic interior of the tavern, casting enchanting shadows upon the wooden beams and polished bar. The clink of tankards and the hum of merry conversation filled the air, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter and the strumming of a lute in the corner. The villagers and visitors alike were immersed in animated discussions about the impending Food Festival, exchanging tales of sumptuous feasts and arcane delights with unwavering enthusiasm.

Amidst the merry throng, Tipplewick flitted among the tables and patrons, regaling them with tales of past festivals and the tantalizing offerings that awaited them. The aroma of honey-roast boar and spiced mulled wine wafted from the kitchen, tantalizing the senses and adding to the jovial atmosphere.

The evening grew livelier as musicians began to tune their instruments, their melodies weaving through the tavern, beckoning patrons to indulge in mirth and revelry. The The Artisans Cup pulsated with the vibrant energy of the village, its walls resonating with the laughter, music, and camaraderie of its inhabitants.

As the villagers and travelers savored the warmth and conviviality in the heart of Esiel, a sense of excitement and camaraderie united them in anticipation of the approaching Festival of Arcane Delights. Unknown to them, the shadows of the night held secrets yet to unfold, and as they reveled in the joyous ambiance of the tavern, they remained oblivious to the dark currents that circulated beyond the flickering candlelight.

Tal'Vor Wolfthorn stood in the Tavern doorway about to make his way through the throng to the bar, his presence commanding respect from those who looked his way. With his distinct half-human, half-elf features and the majestic dragon, Whitemaw looking in behind him, they was a sight to behold.

"Good day, Master Wolfthorn," greeted Tipplewick, the jovial tavern owner, as he rushed to meet Tal'Vor. "It's an honor to have you grace our humble town again."

Tal'Vor nodded in acknowledgment. "Likewise, Tipplewick. Your ale is the finest in all the realm." He patted his son, Rylán Wolfthorn, on the back. "Rylán and I have come to partake in the festivities of the Midsummer Harvest. It's been too long since we've joined in the revelry."

Rylán, a precocious and curious four-year-old, beamed with excitement at the prospect of seeing the Midsummer Harvest festival.

"We've been preparing for weeks," Tipplewick said, gesturing toward the colorful banners adorning the streets. "The Harvest Dance, the grand feast, and the dragon races promise to be magnificent this year. And rumor has it that the infamous Firespike Dragon is making an appearance."

Tal'Vor's eyes sparkled with interest. "Ah, Firespike. A legendary creature indeed. It's been many moons since I've crossed paths with such a beast."

As they continued their conversation, Rylán tugged at his father's cloak, eager to explore the town before the festivities began.

"Perhaps we shall see Firespike firsthand, Father?" Rylán chimed in, his eyes bright with wonder.

Tal'Vor chuckled and ruffled his son's hair. "We shall see, my son. Firespike is a creature of mystery and might, not to be trifled with recklessly."

With the sun setting low on the horizon, the two set off to immerse themselves in the merriment of the Afternoon Harvest, eager to partake in the excitement and wonder that awaited them the next day

The sunset faded and the air cooled to a bearable temperature, not freezing, but not warm either.
Tal and his son, still making merry with the many punters drinking their variety of ales, meads and stouts, before calling it a night and heading up to their room. Rylán was too excited to get ready for bed, but his father was too tired from all the walking and drinking. He could handle his drinks and he was never drunk or abusive on alcohol. Just sleepy. Tal disrobed his garments down to his underclothes and got into bed. Rylán was still in festival mood and already laying in his bed, but not undressed, excited and staring at the ceiling thinking of all the great events and things that were going to happen tomorrow. He turned and tossed trying to get himself comfortable before eventually dosing off to sleep.

A rooster crowed somewhere in the village as Tal and Rylán awoke to a crisp morning, as the smell of delicious food from many cultures wafted in through the open window. Rylán jumped out up, excitement fueling his energy! Jumping up and down on his bed,

Rylán awoke, the smells igniting his hunger. He stretched and yawned and pulled back the sheets, only to find that somehow during the night his nightclothes worked their way off of his legs, possibly due to a deep dark ominous dream he had during the night, which had him tossing and turning, he shuddered quickly shunning it from his mind, and got dressed. Then he woke his father.

"Father! It's time to get up! The festival has started!" The excited little boy said, shaking Tal.

His father gave a yawn. "What time is it?" He sleepily asked.

"It looks to be about 6 o'clock." Rylán washed himself using the water bowl that was provided in every tavern room.

"Alright, alright, I'm up," Tal groaned as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He quickly got dressed and followed Rylán out of the room and down the stairs to the bustling streets below.

The festival was in full swing, with vendors selling their wares, performers putting on shows, and people from all walks of life enjoying the festivities. Rylán's eyes shone with excitement as he took in the sights and sounds of the event.

They made their way through the crowded streets, sampling different foods and watching various performances. As they walked, Tal couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. He kept glancing over his shoulder, feeling as though someone was watching them.

Suddenly, a shadowy figure darted out of an alleyway and grabbed Rylán by the arm, pulling him away from Tal. Before Tal could react, the figure and Rylán disappeared into the crowd.

Panic surged through Tal as he frantically pushed his way through the festival-goers, searching for his son. But Rylán and the mysterious figure were nowhere to be found.

Tal's heart pounded in his chest as he realized that something sinister was afoot. He had to find Rylán before it was too late. The festival suddenly felt like a distant memory as Tal set off in search of his son, determined to unravel the mystery of the shadowy figure and bring Rylán back safely.

Tal raced through the winding streets of the village, calling out Rylán's name as he went. Panic threatened to consume him, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

He stopped a group of festival-goers and described the mysterious figure who had taken Rylán. No one had seen anything, and the villagers looked at him with confusion and concern, but no one could provide any helpful information.

Tal's mind raced as he tried to piece together what had happened. Who would want to take Rylán, and for what reason? He had always felt a sense of unease in the village, despite its festive atmosphere. Now, he couldn't shake the feeling that something sinister lurked beneath the surface.

As he rounded a corner, he saw a cloaked figure slipping into a narrow alleyway, a flash of Rylán's red hair disappearing with them. Without hesitating, Tal charged after them, his heart pounding with fear and determination.

The alleyway was dimly lit and twisted through the village, and Tal struggled to keep the figure in sight. As he chased them, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had stumbled upon something much larger and more dangerous than he had ever anticipated.

Then, the figure suddenly vanished, leaving Tal standing alone in the winding alleyway. Every fiber of his being urged him to continue the pursuit, but he knew he needed to come up with a plan.

Tal realized he needed help. He must find someone who could guide him, someone who knew the secrets and hidden pathways of the village. With that thought in mind, he hurried back to the lively festival, determined to rally the aid of the villagers and uncover the truth behind Rylán's disappearance.

As Tal reached the festival, he frantically scanned the area, searching for someone who could help him. His eyes fell on an elderly man with a long, flowing beard and a knowing glint in his eyes. This man was known as Old Talmak, a wise sage rumored to have a deep understanding of the village's history and its hidden secrets.

Tal approached Talmak, his words tumbling out in a rush as he explained the situation. The sage listened intently, his expression growing grave as the story unfolded. When Tal finished, Talmak nodded slowly, his eyes filled with a mix of sympathy and determination.

"We must act swiftly," Talmak said, his voice filled with urgency. "There are forces at play here that are beyond our understanding. I believe I know where they may have taken your son, but it will not be an easy journey. Are you prepared to face the dangers that await us?"

Tal nodded without hesitation. He would do whatever it took to find Rylán and bring him back safely. As they spoke, a group of villagers gathered around, their faces etched with concern and determination.

Talmak addressed the crowd, his voice ringing out with authority. "We cannot allow darkness to take hold of our village. We must stand together, united in our resolve to protect our own."

The villagers nodded in agreement, rallying behind Tal, Talmak, and each other. It was clear that they would not let one of their own be taken without a fight. As the group prepared to embark on their perilous journey, the festival continued in the background, a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation.

With the sun rising higher in the sky, Tal and the villagers set out, determined to unravel the mystery behind Rylán's disappearance and bring him home. Little did they know that their journey would lead them into the heart of ancient magic and unimaginable dangers that threatened not only Rylán but the entire village itself.

Author's Note

Still in development as I'm basically using this site to dump my rough work (novels on here), not only to gain tips and criticism (good and bad...as I've never written a novel before) but also to improve myself as a writer and see what everyone is looking for in their reading tends and interests. I know that when I dump my rough chapters on here, they will be crap and I know I need to flesh them out with more world building descriptions. The above chapter lacks many of that at the moment. I would like to know your thoughts. 🤔🤔🤔😊😊😊