Chapter One

The night sky gave way to dawn, and streaks of red and orange exploded across the horizon. Cocks crowed and farmers awoke, children ignored the calls of their parents to awaken, and the general silence of night was broken by the morning rituals of the villagers.

It was a sizeable town, but not close to being considered a city. The people of this land lived in harmony with one another; farming, trading, smithing, and providing many of the services necessary to peace and comfort. An idyllic hamlet, with shade, and fields; where dogs ran free, and pigs splashed in the mud in their pens. Children ran the streets playing games, chasing one another and testing the tempers of housewives. It was as everything should be.

And as always, as the sun rose from the East and towards the center of the sky, a shadow crept across the land and engulfed the flatlands and valleys, a shadow miles long. For far away in the distance was the black, twisted tower, upon the mountain cliff overlooking the Silent Valley. The shadow would slowly fade away after high noon, but the ominous tower remained, believed to be uninhabited and falling apart, stone by stone.

In the center of town a small crowd has gathered, and the villagers crane their necks to see what the fuss was about. Gradually the crowd thickens, and the wise men congregate by the central post, exchanging whispers frantically. A brown haired young man, the son of a farmer, scratches his curly head and attempts to make sense of the confusion.

His name is Jacob, son of Gil. He is a man past his teenage years, but young enough to make the mistakes inherent with youth. He is six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a body sculpted with muscle from years of lifting hay, cutting wheat, and carrying heavy equipment.

"What is it, wise men? We want to know what you are concerned about," Jacob speaks.

The crowd nods in agreement. Fred Builder, local carpenter, chimes in agreement. "I agree with the boy. Do tell us wha's happening."

Four older gentlemen, in robes customary to their age, stood in front of the post, obstructing the view of the crowd. The first of them unrolled a large parchment poster, and allowed the second to read."

"We have word from our local vassal, Lord Erik Von Hoyt. He has issued a proclamation, and we must all hear and respond appropriately. It says:

"'Citizens of the land, an offering must be made. For many years of prosperity, proper tithing I shall take. Of whatever it is you have to offer, three-fifths of yours shall line my coffers.

"'Be it bread, I must have three-fifths. Be it ale, or wine, or water, I must have three-fifths. Be it iron or steel, from hooves to blades, I too must have my three-fifths share.

"'I know this is a large burden to ask, but I have no choice. My master and lord, The Fifth, whose name is unspoken and sacred, demands it. Tomorrow my men will come and demand what is necessary. If your village cooperates, you will be spared. If you do not, then three-fifths will by taken with sword and blood. The first to resist my men will condemn the rest. Choose wisely.

"'Lord Erik Von Hoyt, Lord the Third.'"

Silence for a moment. Then outrage began to seep through the townsfolk.

"We will starve," said one man. "We won't have enough food to last us the winter."

"They won't take anything from me, they'll have to kill me first," said another.

"Don't you see? That's exactly what they will do. Don't be a fool. We have no chance of survival if we don't pay our tribute to the Lord," the baker declared.

Jack Smith gave a grim nod. "We have no choice. We have to pay. And if one of us fails," He made a slicing motion across his throat, "That'll be it for the rest of us."

The four wise men raised their hands in the air, commanding the attention of the crowd. "Go about your business as usual today. We will this tithe tomorrow, with respect. No matter the material cost, it is not worth your life."

Begrudgingly the crowd began to disperse, but Jacob, son of Gil, remained. He took the proclamation into his own hands and felt the texture of the parchment, read the words inscribed with ink. Considered how much he and his family would lose. They barely had enough to get through last winter, but now? Now, they would starve for sure. Or end up eating all of the farm animals just to survive. If there were any left, that is.

He ripped the proclamation in half, and then into fourths. He crumpled it up, and threw it into the mud. A few feet away, one of the wise men looked at him, into his eyes. Jacob returned the stare, and understanding grew in him. The wise man did not speak, but Jacob knew what the stare meant.

You have just decided.