Voltaic was a nice place, but Tillon preferred Jaédeen, his birthplace. He missed the gardens and the architecture. Tillon often daydreamed about Jaédeen. His customers sometimes walked in to find him thinking not of his wares and how many quiln to sell them for, but staring into space with a faraway look in his eyes. They would promptly ring the brass attendance bell to grab his attention. “Out on the Duilon Sea again are we?” Inquired Slavando. “mmneh? what?” came Tillon’s reply. “So are you gonna sell this to me for 45 quiln or what?” “Oh yeah right the pack of heglo-spice… I’d rather sell it for 50.” Tillon replied. Slavando was of medium height with rather long legs and a short, slightly roundish torso. His face was that of a high-ranking businessman with a moustache and a fast mind. “46.” came the short reply “49.” Tillon suggested, not wanting to lose this item for much less. “47 and that’s as high as I’m willing to go.” after considering this for a moment Tillon said “deal.” and Slavando took the small pack of heglo-spice and paid the 47 quiln. “pleasure doing business with you.” Tillon complimented as Slavando walked out of his store. Then noticing the time promptly switched the sign on his door to “closed” and started sweeping and cleaning the shelves, then settling down in a chair counted up the day’s earnings. 165 weiln and 34 quiln was the total. “not bad.” Tillon thought aloud. Then, after finishing his felldrove-fruit soup, plodded gently to bed.

The next morning he once again awoke with the strong urge to be in Jaédeen. ‘That’s it’ he thought. ‘I’m tired of this constant daydreaming. Jaédeen is the place for me, not voltaic’ his thoughts continued. After hunting around for a reasonable service he decided to sell his little corner shop. He had already made plans in Jaédeen, just in case. He got a reasonable 12 gillienti and 800 weiln for it. Tillon then counted up his total money, 20 gillenti, 793 weiln and 85 quiln. He spent 150 weiln in total in supplies, including a pop-up tent made from high-quality blowhort hide, a water-sack, traveller’s boots and a magic tinderbox that contained, when opened, an everlasting flame. Tillon often marvelled at how wizards and witches could use such spells. The best he could do was purify water using a basic spell. “Hayo! Tillon! where are you off to this fine mornin’?” came Hectolo’s voice from somewhere down the road. “I’m off to Jaédeen due to a severely annoying habit of daydreaming about it non-stop.” Tillon replied. “Oh going adventuring are we?” “Kinda, but not quite. y’see I’m planning on moving to Jaédeen and making a living there.” “okay c’ya buddy! good luck on your adventures!” Hectolo then departed to areas unknown to Tillon. It was roughly noon when Tillon set out toward Voltaic’s front gate. it was located roughly north of Tillon’s old corner shop and wasn’t too far away. Tillon walked out of the gate after saying goodbye to the few friends he had made in Voltaic. He walked for the first 30 minutes down the main roadway, guided by a signpost that pointed the direction to Jaédeen and the 86km distance to it. The afternoon was, as things go, uneventful. Then at dusk he decided to set up camp off in an allocated traveller’s camp-site about 2km from Voltaic. he threw the tent on the ground, uttered the words that the box told him to and the tent magically popped up into place. He then used the magic tinderbox to light the pile of firewood that he had acquired from the pile in the centre of the camp-site. It emitted a blue flame which lit the firewood ablaze almost instantly. Tillon then proceeded to cook his deorr-steaks over the warm, red fire.

The following day at sunrise he buried the ashes of his former camp-fire and set off again heading south east towards Jaédeen. He went a considerable distance before encountering any people. then as he passed the intersection to An’ dunal, a major fishing hub, the number of people and deggle-drawn carts increased dramatically. “Hayo! sir! yes you the one with the green shirt. could you offer me a lift please?” Tillon asked a kind-looking man. “Ok… where you planning on going?” “In the long term I’m going to Jaédeen but it’ll be nice if you could give me a lift to Gemalia. I’ll be grateful if you do.” “sure thing! I’m actually going to Gemalia m’self.” “Bing-dandy! thanks, oh and what is your name?” “Gernando’s the name. what’s yours?” “Mine’s Tillon” “Ok, pleased to meet you! welcome aboard!” “thanks Tillon said stepping up into the carriage. it was a medium sized one with a few sacks of fruit on it and a storage chest for necessities. “I only have 2 rules here” Gernando stated to Tillon. “1 no swindling my stock. 2 I wont supply you with food, shelter, etcetera etcetera, so don’t ask for stuff.” “Seems reasonable.” Replied Tillon.

The day passed and night fell like a dark blanket once again. Tillon and Gernando had become acquainted with each-other and set up camp by the side of the road under the shade of a broad-leafed tree that Tillon could not identify. they set up the camp-fire away from the tree and Gernando’s deggles. “goodnight Gernando!” Tillon called from his tent before he fell asleep “Goodnight!” came the reply. A little while later Tillon awoke to a rustling sound on the outside of his tent. He assumed that it was just the wind blowing a tuft of grass against the side of his tent then the rustling came again, even louder this time. Feeling a bit frightened he undid the front of his tent and looked out. Tillon saw nothing abnormal excepting a metallic glint in the grass. Out of curiosity he reached for it and found that it was a sword with a fancy design on the guards, a soft handle made of some sort of smooth hide and an emerald sitting in the bottom-middle of the blade. Tillon sat there in stunned silence, holding the sword in both hands. He decided to put it in his tent and examine it in detail the next day.