The Landing at Hewey Vale

If you are traveling east on the road to the great city of Tarn, and you are coming from the other great city of this world, Angelino, you will find yourself on top of small mountain. Below you, you see a valley with a huge river. First time travelers may be concerned, because it looks far too wide to easily cross with a wagon or horses, but the experienced merchant or traveler will know, this is Hewey Vale, and Frederick runs a ferry to cross this immense river.

Frederick is an odd soul. His uncle was one of the founding members of the town, and his mother worked in the Grey Hawk Inn until her death five years ago. His father had died fighting for some king somewhere, a shiftless mercenary who only came home to Tarn once every few years to beat his mother and drink too much. When news of his death finally arrived in their small hovel in Tarn, Frederick's mother Arisa said she had had enough. No tears spilled from her eyes, just a fire. She wrote to her brother in-law, and two days later everything they owned was strapped to two horses, and they headed west. "Fuck this city, may every penny pinching grab ass whore fucking man die in a gutter!" she yelled as they passed through the gates.

The road was long, and since neither of them had ridden a horse before, the road was longer and more painful than either Frederick or Arisa had imagined. Frederick was five at the time. They stopped often, stretched, struggled with their mounts, and Arisa tried to comfort Frederick as he wailed of pain in his legs.

Two weeks later, they arrived at the town of Hewey Vale. Town might be generous. It had a nice inn, a few shops, and a sawmill. Arisa's brother in law, Christopher, owned the Inn, and had built it twenty years earlier with his partner Michael. It had five rooms upstairs, and a large bar and common room downstairs. Christopher kindly gave them a room, and in exchange, Arisa ran the bar. Michael and Christopher were amazing cooks, and Fredrick learned to love food.

The town sat at the edge of the Hare River. The road to Angelino goes straight through the town and ends at the dock. The Hare River is fierce, and sometimes boats come down river, but mostly folks just needed to cross it. When Frederick was young, the ferry master was Rosalina. She was a tough old woman, whom Michael always said used to be a pirate. As he grew, Frederick would often deliver her lunch or dinner from the Inn, or wake her up from the hammock she slept in next to the dock when someone at the inn needed a crossing. Rosalina became good friends of Frederick and Arisa, and as Frederick grew older he spent more and more time helping her with her ferry.

By fifteen, Frederick was a strong young lad. He would lift and move heavy freight at the inn, the sawmill and at the ferry. He was good at calming horses on the barge as they crossed, and was beloved by all in the town.

One stormy evening, Frederick was bringing up a new keg of ale from the cellar when Christopher yelled down. "Fred! Go find Ros, merchant here needs to cross in a hurry!"

Fred yelled an affirmative up the stairs, and delivered the keg. As soon as he put the keg down for Michael to tap, he jogged out the door. As the door opened, he was shocked to see a storm had appeared while he was downstairs.

Outside, cold thick rain fell. It was unusual for this late in winter, but Frederick ran through the water. His whole body was wet and shaking when he found Ros (where?). She went with him back to the Inn, and they both stood by the fire to dry off while Ros negotiated with the merchant.

Ros did not want to go out in the storm. "You must be mad, we can't make a safe crossing in this weather!"

"It cannot wait, I must cross tonight". The merchant said in a deeply serious voice. Frederick starred at him closely, and saw the man's unease. "I'll pay you triple your normal rate to cross now. Half upfront, the other half after the cross."

Ros eyed him as she wrung the rain out of her hair. "Fine. Can you keep your horses calm or do you need the kid to do it? He costs extra."

"No need, the two of us should be enough."

"Alright, let's go". Ros borrowed a cloak from Christopher that appeared from behind the bar, and stomped out the door. Fred went and dried off and changed clothes.

Fred must have been upstairs for less than half an hour, when he heard a large bang and the clattering of armor downstairs. He stopped his dawdling and headed downstairs to see the commotion. He slowly crept down the stairs, both excited and nervous. Armor rarely meant something good. It meant rowdy soldiers here to harass his mom, or highwaymen trying to get a free meal. While it had never happened to Fred, he had heard rumors that in times of war, soldiers would come through town and take all the young men and conscript them into the Army. Fred wanted none of that.

But, all was calm in the bar. Christopher and an armored man were talking and pointing down to the river. The front door was wide open and outside he heard men complaining about the rain. The soldier turned and went as quickly as he could out the door. Fred hurried down the steps and closed the door, but not before he saw ten soldiers in full armor with bows and arrows and swords start running for the river.

"What was all that about?" Fred petitioned Christopher.

"Ros is taking a wanted man across the river. Apparently he stole from the Governor of Tarn. Something mighty important and valuable, according the commander".

"Oh! Do you think they'll catch Ros and prevent him from crossing?"

"I doubt it, be careful, but maybe you can make it to the river before they can, you're no doubt faster than men in armor."

Fred looked at him in shock at the suggestion. The idea quickly got his feet moving. As he ran through the rain, he thought about how he loved Ros. She was like a second mother to him. He really hoped this criminal didn't hurt her. He ran hard down the hill. Harder and faster than he had ever run before. He must warn her!

The road to the river was not steep, but it was made of dirt, and with the heavy rain it was slick. While Fred had run the road many times, up and down, he rarely was out in the rain, and even less in the night.

As he got going he saw the soldiers ahead of him with their torches, but he found his steps slipping more and more in the mud. His feat got traction less frequently, and he tripped. And fell. And rolled. The wind was removed from his lungs and he was in pain. He laid there in shock. In pain. He was incredibly cold. Incredibly wet. He did not want to get up. His thoughts of Ros were still thundering in his head. He must warn her.

He rolled to his side and slowly lifted himself, his body in intense pain. The right side of his chest hurt when he breathed. He held it as he started to jog towards the river.

He got to the shore of the river behind the soldiers. They were yelling to the barge. Ros was pulling the barge across the raging river. The thick two inch rope that spanned the river must be soaked through, but it was still head high, tied to a high post on the pier. Ros must not be hearing them, because she kept on pulling.

Fred stood and watched as the soldiers gave up yelling. Three lit fire arrows, two pulled back normal arrows, and two drew swords walking towards the rope. Fred yelled as the five arrows were released. Fred couldn't tell if the normal arrows hit their target, but two of the fire arrows hit the roof of the merchants wagon. Another barrage was fired and the wagon caught fire. Fred was focused on the flames flying in precision across the night sky, that he was confused when he heard a large splash. He looked to the dock and saw the rope was gone. The two remaining soldiers had cut it loose.

Fred screamed again and ran to the edge of the dock. He saw Ros's barge quickly being taken by the current. The whole barge was on fire. A bright beacon on the river. Two humans jumped off the barge into the river, each swimming in different directions. All of the soldiers were now firing arrows at the swimmers. It was unclear which swimmer was which, but they were both struggling and heading down river fast. Ros was a strong swimmer, but he saw both of swimmers go under a few times, and then neither were swimming any more. The soldiers started heading south along the shore. One yelled, "Find the bodies!"

Fred followed them at distance. His physical pain not registering. He was sobbing. His throat was raw. He had been yelling. What he was not sure, but he could not speak, but his eyes were on the river. Searching. Ros could pop up at any moment.

All night he followed the soldiers. They didn't acknowledge him, but constantly searched the bank with their torches. Eventually they found one body. They lifted it up and up it on the ground. It was a woman. A soldier cursed, put her down, and they picked up their search.

Fred approached the body, not ready to acknowledge what his eyes were seeing. It was Ros. Cold and dead. He laid over her and wept and screamed. An arrow was in her shoulder. Fred wept for a long time.

The sun began to rise, and Fred awoke as his body was shaking violently from the cold and wet. He couldn't control the shaking, but the sunlight hitting his skin felt amazing. Fred's senses slowly returned, and he remembered the night, and the dead body next to him. He stripped off his coat, and put it over Ros's limp body. He couldn't lift her in his arms. Instead he got under her and lifted her like he was carrying a child piggyback. His trudge back to the town was slow and took all day. His body was in immeasurable pain, and his heart was destroyed.

When he returned to town, more soldiers were there. He went to the inn and dropped Ros's body on a table. Christopher and Michael were gone, apparently out searching for him.

When they returned, the found Fred in front of the fire, still in wet clothes, just shaking and staring into the flames. They gave him an ale, some bread, stripped him, and put him to bed.

He awoke two days later. Ros and the merchant had been buried in the cemetery. One with a headstone, one without. The soldiers had apparently found the merchant's body further down stream, but his cart and the barge had yet to appear. They had bought a horse to send a message back to the city, and then left for another thorough search of the river for the stolen goods, whatever they were.

A wake for Ros was held, and in the following weeks, Fred arose from his stupor. He started by taking a small rowboat, and repairing the rope across the river. Then he built a new barge. It took him all summer. But the fall, the route across the river was open, and he was ferrying folks across the river.

Years later, he built a small cabin next to the dock, and to this day, if the weather is clear, and you are not a soldier, Fred will ferry you across the river. Those in armor though, they are invited to swim instead.

Introduction/Exposition:
Inciting Incident:
Rising Action:
Climax:
Falling Action:
Resolution/Denouement: