The midday sunlight trickles down the leaves of the trees and into a small creek, which sparkles against the cobblestone blocks that make up its crossing bridge. A ray of flickering shine flutters every time wooden wheels coated in silver rotate over top, glittering off the battle-scarred helmets, swords, and shields that are packed into the backs of carriages. It is a road taken by the many brave warriors who once fought well in battle, and are now being taken back to their families and kingdoms in caskets. This small creek of apple-green water marks its place in the valley with a sign by its bridge, declaring it as The Weathered Path.
