Realizing that he would get no answer, the Elder pursed his lips rather nastily. He looked at his companions as if he had forgotten where they were, or was looking to them for support and guidance. And then, having gathered his thoughts again, he turned to me.
"We are pleased to welcome you to our village, mylsdar. What business brings you here?" The headman scratched his gray and sparse hair. I could see three large brown moles on his head through the thinning gray.
"The Earl of Feanoth Castle is going to ride to Kostegrad next month, and he needs the hunters to clear the Rube Tract of particularly dangerous creatures of the cold and cold. Especially the cold ones."
"The Rubezhny Tract?" the Elder wondered. "It runs south, right by the old castle. I remember, in the old days, there was a village called Sgulli. It was fun in those days! We had caravans and times. Not like now…"
I bit my lip, I knew it was in the middle of nowhere. But I also knew that the locals would be quicker to bring me up to speed. I needed to understand what was troubling the village and what was dangerous in this land.
Another boy ran down from the wall, looking like two peas in a pod like the bounty hunters behind the old man's back. I looked around. The villagers coming down from the wall were all basically the same face, like close kin. "Seems like they've been living here in isolation for years, in this very wilderness. And really, where would they go? It's the darkness around them that has made them prisoners of this wilderness." The boy handed me my black arrow wrapped in a white handkerchief.
"Your arrow, sir," he bowed and handed me his great treasure. I thanked him and took the instrument. As soon as the boy handed over his burden, he immediately ran off somewhere and disappeared among the courtyards. I looked at the village headman talking about the rich past, the merry days, the frequent visits of the southern traders and the harsh living conditions, and decided that it was time to take the initiative. This way, we can negotiate until Jodecheim's demise.
"These are dark times! I'm telling you," the old man, who had become hoarse from his long speech, wagged his finger.
"Do you have any black arrows?" I interrupted the Elder.
"We don't have black arrows, Mr. Hunter," the old man began to shake his head. He shook it for a surprisingly long time.