The Ghost Whispering Forest took up nearly a third of the Black Mountain Dominion. Within the endless sprawl of ancient trees were dozens of towns and hundreds of villages. The habitations were carved into it like little enclaves, all connected by a complex network of roads.
For those within the grasp of the Ghost Whispering Forest, it was ubiquitous, like the air around them, or the sky above. The deep wilderness of thick brush, enormous trees, and ancient beasts was their entire world.
On one of the main roads, a caravan was stopped for the night. The road was wide enough for several carriages to travel side by side. The caravan drivers, following the common practice, lined the carriages in a row on the far side of the road.
The horses were tied up to the trees just off the road, along with sachets of Beast Repelling Incense. The passengers and leaders of the caravan had all made camp nearby, separated into different groups that huddled around small fires. They sat on makeshift chairs, throwing blankets over logs and rocks, and relaxing, taking their mind off of the hard travel.
Around one of the fires, a group that was composed of three different families was engaged in conversation. They were far more comfortable with one another than the other groups, as they had joined together several towns ago, after learning that they shared the same destination.
At first they had developed some familiarity between one another, finding areas of common ground. Since then, after watching several other parties come and go from the caravan, their bond had been further strengthened.
Now, they were all friends, presenting a unified front to the rest of the caravan
One of the fathers in the group was a slender man who was well dressed. His bright eyes darted around as he spoke up.
"So, we've never discussed our plans in Brightsteel."
The topic was quickly picked up by a different person, one of the mothers. "Well, it is boring, really. We are just there to visit my sister's side of the family."
"How did you end up split up?"
"It's on account of my sister. She has always had a rebellious streak. When a boy from Brightsteel passed through the town, she leapt on the opportunity to follow him. Now, they're settled down, with children."
"They turn out one of two ways. Either rebellious or just the same as their parents."
"Isn't that true! Which would you say you are?"
"Just like my parents, of course. So, what are your purposes, then?"
While the adults talked, the children were ignored. Those who were old enough pretended to follow the conversation, while the attention of the younger children wandered.
One of them, a little girl, had her eyes fixed on a person who was just outside of the circle.
It was a young, disheveled man who was lying back against a rock. The shoes on his feet were dirty strips of leather, hardly any better than being barefoot. She peered at him curiously, wondering why he was separated from the rest of the group.
It was impossible to tell whether the young man was attractive or ugly due to his filthy appearance. He was dressed in rags and covered in grime. In his hand was a bottle that smelled strongly of spirits. At his hip was a sheathed sword. The scabbard was tucked behind him, between the rock and the back of his knees.
Most people in the caravan either looked at the young man with looks of disgust, or just ignored him altogether. Some wondered how he had managed to convince the caravan leaders to let him join in the first place.
He seemed dissociated from the purpose and liveliness that pervaded the other members of the caravan, as he cast his gaze up at the sky.
The sun had not yet fallen over the horizon, but in the dusky air, there were little pinpricks of light that shone through, coming from the stars.
It would normally have been a beautiful sight, but as the little girl stared at the young man, she could not help but feel overcome by the loneliness emitting from him.