Journal - Fontainver and a New Direction

Fontainver

At last the citadel of Fontainver is in sight, still standing with Elven pennants flying proudly from the somewhat battered walls. The journey here was troublesome, with all manner of other-worldly creatures hell bent on destruction and death roaming freely around the countryside. The forest to the north was even more ominous that usual, with screeches and cries from within, and all that ventured there disappeared without trace. Even the animals seemed to shy away, and as we came farther east they all but disappeared. The farms had been looted and burned, with no food left to be scavenged. I had travelled with other men at times, but several had been hunted down and killed along the way. Luckily I had perfected the art of running faster than others and hiding well, with a little help from Essere when things got desperate. At least there was still meat to feed her then, now an increasing tide of humanity had stripped the land bare and all were heading for the one place left to find food - Fontainver. Despite the desperate times the people were uplifted - a massive army of demons had been defeated and there was still light and hope in these dark times. The strong were helping the weak and the fortunate sharing their goods with the starving.

Occasionally a small convoy would pass us in the other direction, under heavy escort by the armoured Elves, and each contained the same thing - farm supplies and equipment with a scared but determined family that knew the trade. They were off to make a new start of the farmland, a necessity if this number of people were to survive for long in one place. I thought of the things we had seen lurking around the farms and shuddered - best of luck to them. The closer we got to the walls (it was farther than I realised - the size of the place was impressive, despite the damage) the more I noticed that humans were no longer the norm, and instead it was Elves that made up most of the swelling columns snaking their way to one or other of the gates ahead. Despite the victory there were a lot of grim faces, and I did not hold up much hope of finding a hot meal and a warm bed that night. Piles of bodies were being burnt to avoid disease, and at least there seemed to be far more of the enemy in these pyres than of the Elven defenders. The lands around were not safe, but nor were they impassable, so there was still hope that peace could come again with the help of the Elves.

A temporary bridge had been built across the wide river to the south, allowing entry by more than one route, splitting those seeking shelter and making the approach more manageable. Despite this we were still pressed together as we entered an outer courtyard that swelled with refugees. We were near the harbour, which at least gave a breath of sea air to refresh us. The pace had slowed to a trudge and hunger beset us all. Marshalls gave out small flags with numbers, dividing the column into three and directing us towards areas where we could find a little shelter. I was intrigued to see the sign of Odin on these Elves, as I had not seen it since those warriors engaged