The night was dark. the valley slept uneasily under the cloak of winter mist. it was silent, even the grass had slid to a tiny whisper. all was still for but a train of Caravans. each lit brightly with men singing together. they shone their torchlight out into the mist.
“The men are too loud” said the horse boy squinting into the mist “I can see something moving. There!” he pointed to something which had suddenly vanished.
the road had gone on for hours and more, the train master refused to stop to make up lost time. however a small number protested; before the sunset the uneasy few marched to the train master’s cabin.
“We demand you stop!” called the leader of the cluster “This Valley is cursed! have you not seen the broken remains beside the road?” there had indeed been a disturbingly regular pile of grown over remains of caravans which dared to enter the Valley. The eery remains left the travellers somewhat quieter than when they started.
After a failed attempt at changing course the uneasy group went inside as soon as the sun set. “We maybe safe inside but the demons and beasts in this Valley know we are here. Its only a matter of time” it was mainly the elderly who feared the Valley but even a few of the younger men shook with fear.
Their fear had been risen when they saw a crooked sign beside the road, it was scratched deep on the wood ‘LEAVE US’ it said. but the caravan train moved on moved on.
Some hours crept by and they made slow progress through the Valley. the mist hadn’t died down but had gotten worse, even the drivers had trouble finding the road before their feet. more and more of the men became restless, their hearts leaped as the unlucky younger men had to go onwards and open the gates for the train.
After another hour the night was at its peak and the train had moved halfway through the valley. now they saw no ruins or broken trains, only perfectly normal farmlands. their crops had died and only the unnaturally straight soil bumps remained. The men on side patrol had spotted houses off the road, but the Elderly men begged them not to venture. however the men investigated and did not return. once their torches entered the buildings there was nothing but darkness from the houses.
To the Elderly men’s relief the Train Master also was becoming ever slightly restless at the night. But he decided they should go faster through the Valley, passing the houses and the fields without bearing another glance.
He ordered more torches to be lit and all men to be on watch as another panicked precaution. Their train was brighter than ever and could been seen boldly from the mountains. when the lights had been lit, that is when they heard it. an unearthly howl from the peak of the Mountains. the echo was loud but yet quiet enough to give them deep shivers. the Elderly men cried outlaid in fear chanting any spell or protection charm they could imagine. the Train Master demanded full speed at once. their train went faster than ever blasting through anything in their path.
The elderly men knew it was no use. they had feared witness to the Howl of the Valley and it was told it meant imminent death.
I was quick, it was quiet and the train’s torches were lit no more. the light of the morning showed the world what was left: a meer train of blood from the road to the forest line.
Fear the Valley.