Where The Roads Go is a piece of fiction from Towns of Sundara, one of the supplements for Cities of Sundara..
“I don’t know much, my friend, but this I can say of a certain,” Jengwaith said, dropping a wink before returning his eyes to the road before him and giving the reins a small tug. “This world is full of great cities. I’ve seen the toiling dead of Moüd, breathed the thin air atop Hoardreach, walked the streets of Ironfire and even seen the wonders of Silkgift. But it’s the places in between, the places most folks tend to be too eager to forget, that always have the most to offer.”
Arand frowned at his traveling companion. The Rhodann elf had offered the young man the passenger seat on his wagon two days back, and he’d proven an interesting enough fellow to ride with. While it was impossible to tell how many years the soft, gray eyes looking out from his nut-brown face had seen, Jengwaith was engaging, curious and always seemed to have another story to tell about the sights they’d seen on the road. This piece of traveler’s wisdom, though, was too much for Arand to simply swallow without chewing at least a little.
“I may not know much either, but I grew up in one of those between places you’re talking about,” he said. “And I don’t recall much to recommend it.”
Jengwaith gave Arand a smile that he’d come to know well, even on relatively short acquaintance. It was a slightly mischievous expression that reminded him of his grandfather when he snuck an extra sweet to one of his grandbabes. Jengwaith drew out a pipe and a small sack of smokeweed, long fingers filling and packing the bowl with an ease borne of long practice.
“One’s home is a curious thing,” the Rhodann said, snapping their fingers and summoning a tiny flame to light the pipe. They puffed at it thoughtfully, the smile in their eyes more than on their mouth. “Because you know it so well, it loses some of its wonder for you. You find yourself looking past the small beauties, and taking for granted its little secrets. To you they are common, but to those who have never seen them before they can be wonderful things. The sorts of small joys that stick with them for years after, and that they’ll tell traveling companions on roads miles and miles from that little corner of the world.”
They rode on in silence for a time, nothing but the sound of the two horses’ hooves on the dirt highway and the chirps of the birds in the trees to disturb the calm of the day. Jengwaith’s pipe burned nearly as thick as incense, but they puffed contentedly on the stem. Arand rolled the elf’s words around in his head for a moment, mulling them over.
“You would truly rather head toward some tiny town than you would any of those cities you named?” Arand finally asked.
“I’ve been to enough places that I feel confident in saying this,” Jengwaith said, raising a finger like a professor making a point to a lecture hall. “Big cities have big sights, big personalities and big opportunities. They’ve got their own secret spots, sure enough, but not as many as most think. It’s the small places, the overlooked places, that often hold treasures unknown to those who don’t live there. What makes them best of all, though, is that you aren’t fighting with every other pilgrim flocking to their big city business. And for every one of those cities, there’s a dozen small towns that you can find, each with their own stories to tell.”
They rode on for a time, the wagon wheel bouncing over a small stone. Arand took a swallow of water from a jug, and then offered it to Jengwaith. The elf tapped their ashes out onto the road, and had a drink as well. When they re-corked the jug, they favored Arand with that knowing smile again.
“I can see you still don’t believe me,” Jengwaith said, giving the reins a small flick. “So let me prove it to you. Tell me about where you come from.”
Arand frowned, and folded his arms. He leaned back against the wagon, and glared out at the road beyond the horses. He was quiet for several moments, just letting the cart bounce and sway. Jengwaith was quiet as well, just listening to the birds and the breeze. Finally, Arand sighed. Why not? There were miles to get yet before they saw anything more than forest or dale.
“So, let me tell you about Kask…”