2 weeks earlier

Henry Aspen was a traveling salesman, who had been moving around in the valley of whales. He had just left the “River” the village and was heading to “Forest” another village an hour by cart away 20 minutes by horse and 2 hours by caravan. Henry was a four-man, 7 horse caravan.

As he traveled he once again thought about how unimaginative the names for the villages in this valley were. Chuckling he went back to staring at the horses and coming up with a list of things that he would have to gather before he moved on to the castle in two valleys over.

He managed to get quite close to the village before he noticed that it was smoldering ruin. Astonishment held him in place for a moment as he scanned the village that was seeping with life last time he saw it. He stood staring as he remembered how the children had run to greet him hoping for some sweet candy, now to be met with ash and dust. Suddenly realizing he would need help, he at once stopped the horses. Immediately sending one of his drivers on the spare horse, back for help.

Henry and his workers set on the long task of clearing debris and gathering the dead. As henry took the heads off the spikes he knew that his dreams would be filled with images of this for months to come. The dead were covered with cloths found in the rubble, and a few were placed under old or spoiled material that the trader had been thinking of giving away to the poor. No sense in making other men see the dead.