Blood flowed freely, turning the waters red. A bloody tide that would make any bystander gasp in horror, which it did. The intestines soon followed, bobbing and weaving for heartbeats until sinking beneath the waves. A red harvest that made the air stink of rust and the sweat of menn.

Not for the first time Sa’van asked himself what he was doing here as he watched the heathens work. It was certainly not where he’d expected to spend the sunset of his years. Watching a bunch of infidels gut fish and cast away their innards.

Still, war had a way of making fools of menn and their ideas and none knew this better than Sa’van. Fleeing wanderers forced by the ambitions of kinless bastards to run.

“Not your idea of honest toil?” A voice spoke. Sa’van turned to find a mann clad in a long robe and wide brimmed straw hat.

Similar in age to Sa’van he was his opposite both in temperament and physique. Sa’van was short, dark but with a warrior’s build, Varxas was tall, pale and thin as the reeds growing by the lakeside; where Sa’van was practical, Varxas was whimsical. A philosopher some called him. Sa’van called him an idiot. What was the use in questions without answers? The Queen had a sense of humor alright, sticking him with this fellow.

“It’s honest work.” Sa’van said. “If wasteful.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Out in the desert we use all the Queen provides.” He replied, sucking air between his teeth.

“Ah, but so do we.” Varxas replied. His hand extended towards the killing field. “From death comes life. What we do not use we give the lake to grow more.”

That was another thing Sa’van couldn’t stand. Sure, their kindred were faithful but so queen-damned idealistic, always looking on the sunny side. His own people were more practical, more realistic. The next day wouldn’t be better unless they made it so.

Sa’van turned from the lakeside to look at the village proper. Longmeadow. It hugged the mountains, occupying the long meadow of the shoreline. Not particularly imaginative but accurate. A row of huts and houses, slightly raised to keep them dry during the rain. That was another thing so damned wrong with this land. The queen-damned rain!

“We need to talk about building better buildings.” Sa’van said. He could already imagine carving a few alcoves into the mountainside for his kindred.

Varxas gave a kindly smile and slow nod. His mouth opened and he was about to speak when another mann came up, grasslander by the looks of him all easy grins and swagger.

“Beggin’ yer pardon Elder.” The stranger said. “I’m keen to get on me way, savvy?”

The way he spoke was disrespectful and the gleam of his gold tooth was disgusting.

Varxas knit his brows for a moment then the light of recognition came to his eyes.

“Oh right, yes, indeed. The scrolls!” Varxas said. “You are in luck, sir. Just finished the last one this morning.”

“Excellent, yer Eldership. Got payment ready for ye an’ all. Want to get started afore the rain come, savvy?”

Varxas nodded. “My daughter will give them to you. You can deliver the payment to her.”

The man bowed and turned on his heels.

“What was that about?” Sa’van asked.

Varxas smiled. “Oh I send my musings to fellow scholars.”

“And they pay for them?” Sa’van asked, something tickling at the back of his mind.

“Oh, yes, indeed. Quite well in fact.”

The tickle turned into a proper thought, coalescing into an idea. What if…

“You know, you could build a library for that. Have people come here. Pay to read your work.” Sa’van said. “Be good for the entire village.” He could already imagine it, standing on top of the high ground. A grand building, knowledge used practically. Fleecing scholars.

Varxas smiled. “Now there’s an idea. Might even consider it.”

The silence that settled between them was comfortable if not overly friendly until Sa’van asked.

“What was that word he used? Savvy?”

“I believe it means knowledgeable and cunning.” Varxas said.

“Huh…” The similarity to his own name was not lost on Sa’van.

Another round of silence until Varxas said. “I have a daughter you know.”

Sa’van nodded.

“… and you have a son.”

Sa’van nodded again.

A third round of silence as the two old menn stood looking at the to’reshian fishermenn performing their bloody deeds by the shoreline.

“It’s an idea…” Sa’van said, brow furrowing.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

Now if you're wondering about the disparity of it being a village in the story, not a town and all that. I decided to go for what it was before I plonked down and embiggened it. Call it the history of the Domain. I went for what was there prior to me using godly tools to manipulate the town into what I want it to be. Sowing the seeds and so on. Also since my name has not been approved yet, I sowed some more seeds as to the name but if it gets rejected, no harm, no foul. xD

Oh right, should probably mention:

Selene (EU) -> Kingdom of Al'Khezam -> Duchy of Feann -> County of Blackblight Grove -> Town of Longmeadow