Chapter One:

I've been asked to tell the story of my life so far, and well, this is my attempt at doing just that. I'm not good with words, so this won't be the best story ever written. There was a time I couldn't read or write, so I never would have even considered doing something like this before. Anyway, here goes.

My birth name was Stephanie Plowman. The name Plowman might be familiar to some people. My great-grandfather was Orson Plowman, an adventurer of some note many years ago. It was over sixty years ago when my grandfather led a band of mostly farmers to settle new lands near the Elfholds and northeast of Wrassledown.

< The settlers were attacked by orcs. My grandfather found a defensive position and kept the orcs at bay until elves from the Elfholds arrived to drive the orcs away. That battle became known as Plowman's Stand and it became the name of my home village.

I never met my great-grandfather as he went to serve in the Great War against Keln. He, like so many others, never returned. Plowman's Stand was spared much of the ravaging from the orc hordes in the years that followed. We were too far east and too close to the Elfholds to face their wrath.

My father is Thomas Plowman. My mother was named Iris. She died when I was young, so I was mostly raised by my father and our other relatives. I grew up on a farm and it quickly became apparent that I was much like the men in my family. What I mean by that is that the typical Plowman male is tall, has broad shoulders and is strong. Those are traits that I also have. I was already taller than most of the other kids by the time I was ten years old.

By the time I was an adult I was six feet tall and muscular from all the years working on the farm. Like most of my family, I had black colored eyes and hair. My hair was long, reaching halfway down my back. I usually kept it up in a pony tail to keep it out of my face. My skin was deeply tanned from toiling under the sun all day.

While Plowman's Stand didn't see much threat from orcs, there were other dangers. Wolves were one. I was fifteen years old when I killed my first wolf. Father and I, along with my younger cousin Jacob, were out mending fences one early spring day when we came across an armored man being attacked by wolves. My father drove the wolves off, but was badly wounded in the process. His right arm hung limply at his side.

We placed the armored man in our wagon and tried to ride away, but the wolves gave chase. I used a shovel to drive them back until it broke under the strain. We tried to take shelter in a storage barn, but the wolves had us surrounded.

It was at that point that my father told me that I had to protect us; due to his wounds he was unable. We removed the armor from the man we found; he was already dead from his own wounds. I put the armor on and grabbed his sword and shield. My father noted that I swung the shovel really well, and convinced me by saying that using a sword wasn't all that different. I was to later find out, it was not really similar at all.

The armor was strange to wear. I later learned that it was called chain mail. It was basically a large armored robe. It was light at first, but over time the weight was felt in your shoulders. But it was light and flexible, so gender didn't matter much when it came to wearing it. It was necessary to wear padded clothing underneath the chain mail to protect your skin.

The barn doors were forced open and we gasped to see a giant wolf, the pack master. We struggled for what seemed like forever, but I managed to drive my sword into the beast's neck. A few more hits slew the monster and the lesser wolves ran away. We were saved.

I was terrified at first, but then excited when the monster fell. It was then that my path was not to be a farmer's wife, but instead to be one of an adventurer like my great-grandfather had been. From that day on, I practiced with my sword non-stop until it felt like an extension of my arm. I helped out the people of Plowman's Stand the best that I could, driving away wolves and other monsters as needed.

That was my life for the next few years. I was content to live on my father's farm and help the neighbors out as best I could. My father didn't regain the use of his arm from that wolf attack and he could do less and less around the farm as time went on. I did what I could, helped by our family and neighbors. It was late in the spring of my nineteenth year when that all changed.

I was out mending fences from the unusually fierce winter we had. I was alone, but my sword was at my side. I was working when I noticed a rider approaching me. My hand naturally slid to the hilt of my sword. The rider slowed as he came into speaking distance.

"Who are you?" I challenged.

The man sat on his horse, his hands crossed holding the reigns in a non-threatening manner. He had brown hair and a full beard. He didn't wear armor, but rather clothing in dark green and brown. The stranger gave me the impression of being a woodsman.

"I am known as Sherwood," the man replied calmly, "an adventurer of some renown."

"I've heard the name before," I said. The name Sherwood had reached our ears, even in a backwoods place like Plowman's Stand. Travelers would bring stories of heroic exploits from elsewhere. His name came up often enough and his reputation was a good one.

"You're here to recruit me?" I wondered. It was said that Sherwood regularly put adventuring bands together to handle problems.

"In a fashion," Sherwood admitted. "Word of your deeds here in Plowman's Stand has traveled far. But I am not here to recruit you for myself, but instead to bring to your attention an opportunity to the east."

Sherwood's words did get my interest. The notion of seeking adventure beyond Plowman's Stand had crossed my mind before. Unfortunately, the largest adventurer haven in this part of Cynalon was the City of Elcadan. I had never been there, but had heard all the horrible stories about the place. Going there was never a consideration of mine. Elcadan was to the southwest, so what lie to the east?

"The east?" I simply said, a bit confused.

"About a year and a half ago, a force led by the knight Sir Alon Teramar liberated the city of Gateway from the Blackhand Goblin tribe."

Those names were unfamiliar to me.

"Gateway," Sherwood continued, "was a city that was on the border between Cynalon and the Keln Imperium. It's changed hands frequently ever since the Great War. But it's Cynalon's now and General Logan is serving as its regent. The city and its nearby environments are under our control, but the lands beyond are wild and need exploring. Thus the Crown is looking for adventurers to go forth and explore, slay monsters and other usual adventurer things."

"What does this have to do with me?" I couldn't help but wonder.

Sherwood chuckled a little bit upon hearing that.

"You find that funny?" I said defensively.

"No, not at all," Sherwood said still slightly laughing to himself. "You remind me very much of someone I knew. What I am offering you is the chance to travel to Gateway and get involved in adventures beyond Plowman's Stand. I am told that you are very skilled with the sword. People like you are needed."

"I can't leave my father," I objected. "He needs help running the farm."

"That's not what he said when I spoke to him," Sherwood countered.

"You talked to my dad?"

"I did just say that," Sherwood pointed out. "Your loyalty to your father is admirable, but he doesn't plan on doing much farming any more. Besides, you can be of more help to him by traveling to Gateway. Adventures tend to come across good amounts of gold. Far more gold then you could acquire here in Plowman's Stand. You could earn a small fortune adventuring in the Keln lands and your father could retire and live in comfort."

"That does have its appeal," I had to admit. Perhaps it was time to travel beyond Plowman's Stand. "What do I need to do?

"You need to travel to the City of Crossroads, in the Duchy of Graystone. It's the closest city to Gateway. There, Captain Shea is recruiting adventurers for operations in Gateway."

The names of those places didn't mean a lot to me.

"I haven't traveled much," I quietly admitted. "I don't know how to get there."

"It's pretty easy," Sherwood explained. "Ride to Wrassledown to the southwest. Take the southeast road out of town until you hit the High Road. It's the major east/west road in Cynalon. It connects Gateway to Elcadan."

"The village of Green Plains sits where the High Road meets the Wrassledown Road. From there you ride to the east. You'll come across the town of Timberline after about a day's ride. Next will be Pyris herself, capital of the Barony of the same name. You get the general idea. Just keep riding east and you'll eventually make it to Crossroads."

"Take the big road east," I summed up.

"Basically," Sherwood said with a laugh.

"When do I need to get there."

"Leaving in the morning would be good," Sherwood answered.

Sherwood then pulled on the reigns of his horse and started to ride off. Before he went too far, he stopped and threw a small pouch towards me. It landed before me and a few gold coins spilled out.

He waved and then rode off and was quickly out of sight. Once he was gone I picked up the pouch and found that it held a large handful of gold coins. That should be enough money to get me to Crossroads. I had some gold of my own from work around Plowman's Stand, but this was much more.

I rode home and Sherwood was true to his word. He did talk to my father first and father approved of my going to Gateway. It was with mixed emotions that I packed up what few belongings I was going to take with me on my journey to Crossroads. I had no idea what to expect, but I knew that it was going to be exciting!