The Kingdom of ArvenFar away from Val’traz, miles out of the Wastes of Chatter and tucked deep into the perilous Ichor Mountains, sits the Kingdom of Arven. Armoured guards patrol the streets with swords and axes, and while some would say they are the protectors of the kingdom, others would argue they are there to keep the citizens of Arven in line. Arven is a kingdom focused on advancement above enjoyment, and professions are designated on each citizen’s 15th birthday after a rigorous proficiency examination. But what was most baffling to The Cowpoke when he arrived at Arven, was how the people of the kingdom treated their critters.
In Val’traz, critters are treated with the utmost kindness (aside from Old Man Rucker, who treated his bat as more of a nuisance). More often than not they are given better lives than the people of Val’traz even live themselves. In Arven, this is far from the case. Each person’s animal familiar works alongside them, not as an equal but as an extra set of hands (or hooves, or paws, or talons). The small ones are kept in cages until it is time to work, and large ones sleep outside. They appear just as exhausted, if not even more exhausted, than their human counterparts. Horses are whipped to run faster, and birds carry heavy bags of supplies to and from buildings…
[The dialogue in this story has been translated for a smoother reading experience, but the people of Arven speak Arvenian, a logographic language that can be read left to right, or up to down.]
As The Cowpoke and the crow reach the end of the path to the kingdom’s entrance, The Cowpoke sends the crow to fly ahead and scout. The crow flies off into the air, and The Cowpoke continues walking up to where a guard and his critter (a goliath brown bear wearing a silver mask that looks strong enough to kill The Cowpoke with one paw) stand by the gate. The guard is wearing a full suit of silver knight’s armor, with two red triangles of fabric draped around his shoulders. On the top of his helmet sits a large tan cowboy hat with a circular brim.
“Howdy!” The Cowpoke calls out, “Mighty fine hat ya got there, although I question its use when yer wearin’ a helmet-”
“HALT” The guard speaks with an accent and language new to The Cowpoke, and slams the blade of his sword into the dirt. “STATE YOUR BUSINESS IN ARVEN.”
“Woah there partner I don’t understand what yer sayin’ but I ain’t lookin’ for trouble,” The Cowpoke stops walking and reaches a hand back under his cloak to unclasp his holster.
“Where is your creature and where do you travel from?” The guard slams his sword again, gestures to his bear, and points at The Cowpoke.
“Huh? Oh, you’re askin’ me where my critter is! He’s right here in my pocket!” The Cowpoke reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a closed fist. “We’re travelin’ from just over yonder.” He gestures vaguely with his unclosed hand towards the mountains behind him.
The Cowpoke can see the guard’s eyes narrow in distrust from behind his helmet as he leans in to look closer at The Cowpoke’s fist. The Cowpoke opens his fist revealing an empty palm.
“He’s a flea,” The Cowpoke says. The guard stands up straighter and is about to speak, when a large crash rings out from behind the kingdom walls. The gates swing open, and two guards run out of the entrance yelling, “WE NEED ALL GUARDS TO THE WEST GATES AT ONCE, THE FARM CREATURES HAVE BEEN RELEASED.”
The first guard jumps to attention and appears to forget all about The Cowpoke, running through the gates with the others. As the gates begin to swing shut once more, The Cowpoke slips through and enters the Great Kingdom of Arden.