To be sure, the goal of one’s quest in an adventure is to reach the subsequent destination–whatever that entails. But I would put forth that finding ones ultimate destination has significantly less meaning without first expounding on the place from whence the adventurer originates: to wit, Darkwood.
I feel as if I am the proprietor of a very rare privilege to be the one to write about this town. The forested dwelling is still but an infant mouse respectively when compared to the well-aged rodent that is the rest of Murridae. Only a handful of literature, thus far, has been written about it. I believe that the reasons for these missing manuscripts can be explained in several ways:
For one, there simply has not been much time since the town’s birth for many to experience its aspects. Secondly, Darkwood is not one to see many visitors. Third, there are those who simply do not consider the town to be of any sort of permanence within Murridae. The latter issue will be explicated in the coming remarks.
Granted, I am not the first to speak of Darkwood. I am reminded of Jeremiah, or Old Jeremiah as was the moniker he held with his peers. Arguably, he is the first to write about Darkwood with any amount of clarity. He did so within his published book, “Western Revival,” written only seven years after its liberation.
A great boon this mouse was to the town’s recorded history. In particular, I rather enjoyed his poignant observations of the people that were present about the town when he was there to witness them. They were written as such:
Mindboggling. It is starkly mindboggling to see these rodents walking the streets, baking bread, hammering metal, sewing clothes, taking wives, and living as if they have lived in this place since ancient times. And I witness this only a trifle number of years past its liberation from the Black Rats. These mice–exhibiting everything simple about their way of life–are, in sooth, quite bold. I doubt I could ever be one of them in spirit.
To add to Old Jeremiah’s position, consider a town that had been simply invented by an enemy faction, and once that enemy was thwarted, we accept the town almost instantly as one of our own. The concept is almost unfathomable, but such are the rodents of Darkwood. We are all of the bold variety. To clarify further, only in this town have I ever seen mice stand with rats on such equalized scale. It is simply the intrepid nature of the people.
Since its initial liberation, Darkwood has grown quite remarkably. It is quickly beginning to take on the appearance of a proper civilization. The sight and feel of it can be contrasted to other towns and cities of Murridae in two distinct ways: namely, that there are many trees about the area–whereas most towns of this country keep their trees outside of their walls, and also that it is generally very cold there, especially within the winter months.
Concerning the former, I could very well give credit to my interest in Skiouros by having grown up in a strangely wooded environment. As queer a place as it is, I imagined–at the time–it was quite the common thing for all of the squirrel-lands. At the beginning of my adventure, I often wondered if I would seem something of a kindred spirit to them having shared similar environs. The conclusion to this will be later dealt with.
To the latter, the cause of the frigid wind is due to the fact that Darkwood is the most northern of all places in Murridae. I recall freezing days and nights where the trunks of those trees were wearing crystallized skirts of ice (what fascinating shapes they would make when I would break them apart.) I am sure many among this country might very well consider living in Darkwood to be rather inhospitable.
Above, I had mentioned the semi-controversial ideal that Darkwood is not a truly sanctioned town of Murridae. One of the instigators of this theory was an author by the name of Calvin Blue. In his book entitled, “The Eternal Growth of a Kingdom,” he put forth the following:
Although, it may have been the intentions of those who took Darkwood away from our enemy to make it their own–and in saying this, I respect their nerve in such a maneuver–I consider it to be in rather poor taste to simply consider it to be officially inducted into our country. When I consider how hard rodents strove to create the beginnings of Rodopolis, as well as the heart that was behind those people, I cannot see any such thing behind the evil rats who erected those walls up in Darkwood. Understanding this, I feel the place should be either destroyed or, at the very least, rechristened by a Rodopolis official of some variety.
Personally, I find Cavin’s candor on the matter to be born of shortsightedness. I do not understand why the name is so bothersome. If anything, it is a symbol of triumph over our enemy. At one time, Darkwood was a housing for evil, but what is it now? It is a thriving community of good rodents! In this instance, the meaning of the name takes a different path. Despite this revelation, the controversy remains to this day; however, I encourage all to make little to do over the matter. There is not enough of the controversy to spark anything. Darkwood is a town of Murridae.
As I have been doing, I would not refer to Darkwood as anything but a town. The walls that it has were only built to fortify it during the war. We are still growing as our own pace. The community as a whole is exceedingly jovial. We help one another as a matter of habit. I have heard that most settlements begin with such a society.
Darkwood is divided into two partitions. The western district is where most of the rodents living there make their home. The buildings are partitioned apart with amazing symmetry–an aspect that is rather hard to find among Murridae. They are simple in design, and are built entirely from wood of the surrounding forest.
The east side of Darkwood is where you will find its very modest marketplace. Many of the buildings here are very old as they were still there while they were inhabited by the Black Rats, but as you can see, we have repurposed them to great effect.
As an adventurer, it would be in poor taste if I forsook mentioning the heart and soul of any town–this being the tavern. I would be lying if I put forth any form of absence from this place. The truth is that I frequented her hall more often than I probably should have. But let that not dissuade you from entering. “The Hailing Raven” is more than just a mere place to drink and sleep, it was a community crossroads where all decisions were made.
It was naturally a capital place to begin my arrangements in earnest. A great many things can be settled in a tavern if one is diligent. Being that I was–at this point–well-known among the rodents of Darkwood, I felt that such a crossroads would naturally be my first destination.
But if I might add just one more opinion concerning this town: I wish to simply express the love that I have for it. I do not say this lightly. Although, it is true that I did wish to venture great distances away from Darkwood, there was always a sincere yearning to return to those walls. For there will always be an eternal admiration, on my part, for those people–how bold, how jovial, how resolute.
-Glossary-
Darkwood: The hometown of Milo. It lies within Northeastern Murridae.
Murridae: A country ruled by mice but is also populated by rats and jerboas.
Black Rats: An army of rats who wished to replace the rule of mice in Murridae.
Skiouros: A country west of Murridae inhabited primarily by squirrels.
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