128 Bandits in the Fores (1/2)

East of the Sallqata Mountains most days were sunny, as the mountain range formed a natural barrier for the rain. Today was no different and the sun stood high in the sky. However, a darkness loomed before a large donkey carriage's path. Like fingers from an ancient evil, the shadows of the primeval trees loomed ahead, ready to swallow the wagon whole, and all of its passengers with it. Without a care in the world, the donkeys shook their necks and trotted on, their eyes focused on the narrowing path ahead.

”Sire, should we continue on like this?” the wagon's cloaked driver said in a shaky voice.

”This road is the fastest path from Porcero to the mountain pass,” the wagon's owner replied. ”We need to cross the forest, not only because the people in Arguna are waiting for our goods.”

Accompanied by the rustling of his cloak, the owner looked over his shoulder, towards the blanket which covered the wagon's body.

”Still, we should be watchful.” The driver tightened his grasp on the leash as the donkeys pushed ahead, to leave the light of day behind.

Although the Ancash Forest sat at the foot of the Sallqata mountains, right in the middle of the old centers of Medalan power, the region itself was hardly developed. Of course, the biggest reason for its backward nature would be the jungle before them, stretched from halfway up the mountainside all the way into the valleys of eastern Medala. If they wanted to reach the mountain pass towards the west, they only had to cross through a small side branch of the massive forest, it was impossible to tell from inside.

Tall, ancient trees stretched towards the sun, in a race that had lasted centuries. Over time, the branches had formed a wooden chain mail above their heads to block out sun and rain even without their leaves. Despite the hostile environment, the ground was covered in shrubs, many of them more thorn than leaf. They sat on a bed of decayed leaves, soft ground one would have to wade through. Their only reliance through this hostile environment was a narrow dirt path, trampled into the woods over centuries of sporadic use, no different from the animal trails the forest's inhabitants had cut through the trees.

Even worse, by now it had started to snow, and the white flaked began to suck away the last signs of life. All around them, all they could see was black, brown and gray.

A sudden howl in the distance made the driver jump. With a shudder, he turned to his master.

”Sire, are you sure that we will be safe? I heard rumors that these woods contain demons.”

”Ahaha, no worries my good man, those are just stories.”

”But sire... I have talked with the locals.”

”You mean you've drunk with the locals?” the owner asked and slapped the driver's back. Embarrassed, the servant lowered his head.

”There is no need for shame, Zoldamyr. Your sociable nature has helped us a great deal so far. So what did the locals say about the forest?”

”They say... since long ago, an ancient demon called Ancash Lupu has lived in these woods. It was a powerful beast indeed, a Divine who had been born from an earthly rift on Sallqata's highest mountains. Out of the rift sprang a wolf, blue like water. And down it marched, through the valleys and into the plains, and wherever it went, giant trees sprang up to swallow the lands.”

”Well, that's a fun story. So that's how the forest came to be?” the owner said with a bemused voice.

”Yes, sire. However, once the fox reached the limits of the current forest, it met with the humans for the first time. As one of the great divines, the people respected the wolf, but even so the humans didn't want the greedy fox to swallow all of their lands. After all, people can't live in forests.”

”I doubt that,” the owner mumbled under his breath as he remembered his time on the run, many years ago.

”Huh?”

”Nothing. Please continue.”

”So the people came together, and to appease the wolf spirit, they sang and danced for three days straight, to attract the demon's attention. Finally, they offered one lamb and one jug of wine from every house, as a token of respect. The night that came to be known as Ancalupu and is still a local tradition celebrated every year in this region.”

”Okay, so the wolf took the offers, got drunk and left? The moral of the story would be 'if someone makes you trouble, bribe them'. A good lesson, very true to life.”