Once long ago, there was a small road... we were vagabounds, pushed from our home by those who didn't accept us. We walked the road one quiet dawn and saw the a break in the forest, a path that opened the forest before us. It stank of magic, but we couldn't live our life as outcasts, stripped of name and livelihood we had been of differing blood, but as we walked the path and the mist grew around us, we grew closer toghether.
It was days of travelling this path thick of mist before we came to a clearing in the the forest, canopy thick overhead, dipping low in the clearing was a small pond of crystal clear water covered in gorgeous glowing berries that lit the clearing in haunting light... and we knew we had arrived to where we needed to be, this hidden vale, this was our new home.
Outcasts, vagabounds, criminals. None of that mattered anymore the spirits had guided us and twined together the lost. We were no longer cursed without name or cause, we had a home in this small vale.
We are the family of Valeheim, and we accept all who are lost, all those who find their way to our Vale.
A short piece on my little towns founding, and my surname founding.
(Also, this is taking into assumption my name is accepted. It's currently named New Owlville.)
