I love winter. I especially love it when the snow comes down, blanketing the world. But when I stumbled upon the picture prompt for today’s narrative, it made me think would I love the snow if I truly was in the middle of a blizzard. Now while I’ve lived through a couple of serious snowstorms, they don’t have the same resonance as this prompt brings to mind. In this image we see a single man wandering about a town at the onset of a blizzard. What would you do if you wandered into an insignificant town as the storm begins?
A wandering stranger stumbles into town during a snowstorm…
Posted by ElfWatcher.com on Friday, December 27, 2019
A wanderer adjusted his position against the tree. When a snowflake landed on his outstretched hand, he shook it free, climbing to his feet. The man dragged his hair from his face as he pulled his spare cloak from his pack. Without missing a beat, he wrapped it around his shoulders. He clutched his bag under the covering as he strode toward the road. As he neared it, he checked both sides of the path before easing out from the underbrush.
As the snow clung to him, the man tugged the outer garment tighter about his neck and forced himself through the growing mounds. After walking for what felt like an eternity, the wanderer noticed a structure hugging the horizon, and his steps quickened. When he reached the building, his trembling hand brushed its rough stone.
A grin spread as his fingers traced the chiseled rock. He cocked his head, and his smile widened when he scanned the surrounding buildings. He ignored the blacksmith and the numerous merchant establishments. When his eyes landed upon the inn, he dashed toward its entrance and yanked in vain. With a grimace, the wanderer slammed his fist against the sturdy wood. “Is anyone there!”
The entrance groaned, revealing an intense gaze through the opening. “There aren’t any rooms available. You must look elsewhere.”
“Please,” the wanderer cried as he wedged his foot into the opening. “No one could survive this snowstorm.”
“I cannot allow you to enter,” the innkeeper replied.
The man pulled a stone from his pack, flashing the brilliant green gem to the owner. “I can pay.”
The innkeeper shook his head as he shoved the door. “Money isn’t the problem. This storm comes every year, and my storeroom isn’t endless. I can’t provide for you without harming my existing patrons, considering that jewel won’t fill a single belly.”
“When’s this snowstorm going to blow itself out?”
“Based on the past, it’s likely to last for days.”
“Please, I’ll take a quarter of what you give everyone else.” The wanderer wedged his boot further into the opening as he glimpsed past the large man. “There’s not another inn in view.”
“Are you expecting me to starve?”
The wanderer shouldered the door open and slipped inside. “I’ll perform any task you require, just don’t make me leave.”
The innkeeper hauled the wanderer to his feet and threw him against the wall. “There are dwarven holds scattered throughout this mountain range. You’ll find one eventually, but I’m not risking my patrons for you!”
As a slender hand touched the innkeeper’s shoulder, a lithe woman leaned in with wide eyes. “What’s this about a gem?”
The innkeeper’s arm slid towards the wanderer’s throat. “He may have a gemstone as big as your fist, Juliana. But I don’t have the extra supplies for him.”
Another person gripped Alper’s wrist and eased it away from the wanderer. “Juliana and I will come to an arrangement with him for a stone of that size if he’s willing to part with it.”
The wanderer rubbed his throat and tossed the jewel to the man.
Juliana snatched it from the air like a striking raptor. She raised it toward the torch and scrutinized it. “Thomas, this gem is flawless.”
Alper’s fingers clenched into fists. “I won’t let my patrons eat less to feed a vagabond.”
Juliana handed the stone to her muscular partner as her eyes settled on the wanderer. She squeezed the innkeeper’s arm. “It’s not a sacrifice to share our meals with him for the prize he’s offering us.”
“I think Juliana explained our position succinctly.” Thomas clapped the innkeeper’s back and turned him around. He peered past the innkeeper as he rubbed his chin. “Considering we’re volunteering to share our food with him, no one else would have to be inconvenienced.”
Alper stared at the wanderer and cursed, “I won’t risk everyone for one vagabond!”
“That’s enough, Alper,” a man said as he entered the foyer. “Those two have made their choice. If they die because of Juliana’s greed, it’s not your fault, so wash your hands of their desires for the gemstone. However, I’d like to eat my evening meal.”
“I’ll see you get your food, Kincade.” The innkeeper nodded and scowled at the wanderer as he shoved him away. “Stay out of my sight! I should’ve tossed you back into that snowstorm to suffer the consequences of your foolish actions.”
The wanderer nodded as he swallowed a sudden lump.
When the innkeeper vanished, Thomas nudged the wanderer’s side. “Don’t worry about Alper. He’s always that disagreeable, despite stockpiling enough rations to feed those like yourself who arrive late.”
“He always overestimates the amount of food he’ll require during this yearly event,” Juliana added.
The wanderer dropped his pack to the floor, rubbing his face. “Thank you for helping me.”
“You gave us the gem,” Juliana replied, stealing the rock from Thomas. “We should thank you.”
Thomas retrieved the stone and tossed it between his hands. “For someone to surrender this, they must possess something even more valuable.”
“That’s a valid point,” Juliana said, tilting her head to stare at the jewel. “But what could anyone possess that would make surrendering this flawless gem worthwhile?”
The wanderer looked at the pair before him and waved them closer. When they eased in, he mirrored their motion, his lips curling into a conspiratorial smile. “I have a map that promises a hoard that would shame kings of legend.”
Thomas grinned as he tossed the jewel into the air and snatched it. He glanced at Juliana, and as soon as she nodded, he nudged the wanderer’s arm. “That piques our interest. Would you like aid in unearthing such treasure?”
The wanderer’s smile narrowed into a weary line, as if weighing their offer. “I’d never refuse offered help.”
Juliana seized the gem and shoved it into her pocket. “What’ll we call you, stranger?”
“Daylen,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m glad to find those who understand the value behind cooperation.”