Hall of Infinite Doors
[Note: Any who choose may contribute to this story.]
War.
You return to your small estate in Westshire County, an older but smarter man. The war was not as quick nor the victory as sure as your countrymen had once proclaimed. The elves were more determined to defend their homes than you were to attack them. After many grueling episodes on the battlefield and the senseless slaughter of much life, you return a changed man.
The army with which you so long fought is disbanded to the many regions of the kingdom. Your own unit, drawn mostly from the farms of Westshire County, returns to a hero's welcome. The townspeople rejoice at your arrival. Although you lack a wife and children, you celebrate for a week in the drunken festivities of victory.
Soon the whole country is enraptured with the spoils of peace. Gold flows into the coffers of the local towns. Spices and gems arrive from afar off. Wine, women and song enliven the houses of the few wealthy merchants and bankers to whom this wealth goes. But your little estate starts to deteriorate. Already feeling the decay of your absence, the taxes rise higher to pay off the debts of war, and within a couple years you lack the wherewithal to pay your few employees. The parents of the girl you are dating cut off your engagement and send her to marry a man far away in the kingdom. You sell your weapons and what little valuables you have. Some of your neighbors and fellow heros have their farms foreclosed upon. They are thrown in debtors' prison while their families eek out a living in the streets. You are depressed, lonely and destitute.
Then, one early morning, as you are hoeing beans in your field, you see the prison wagon meandering its way up the path toward your house. A couple of mounted sheriffs ride with it. It is a sight you have seen so many times before. Your estate will be sold to the highest bidder. You yourself will be thrown into prison to rot or to be sold elsewhere as a slave.
A deep pain overtakes your soul as you see the inheritance of four generations stolen from your family.
War.
You return to your small estate in Westshire County, an older but smarter man. The war was not as quick nor the victory as sure as your countrymen had once proclaimed. The elves were more determined to defend their homes than you were to attack them. After many grueling episodes on the battlefield and the senseless slaughter of much life, you return a changed man.
The army with which you so long fought is disbanded to the many regions of the kingdom. Your own unit, drawn mostly from the farms of Westshire County, returns to a hero's welcome. The townspeople rejoice at your arrival. Although you lack a wife and children, you celebrate for a week in the drunken festivities of victory.
Soon the whole country is enraptured with the spoils of peace. Gold flows into the coffers of the local towns. Spices and gems arrive from afar off. Wine, women and song enliven the houses of the few wealthy merchants and bankers to whom this wealth goes. But your little estate starts to deteriorate. Already feeling the decay of your absence, the taxes rise higher to pay off the debts of war, and within a couple years you lack the wherewithal to pay your few employees. The parents of the girl you are dating cut off your engagement and send her to marry a man far away in the kingdom. You sell your weapons and what little valuables you have. Some of your neighbors and fellow heros have their farms foreclosed upon. They are thrown in debtors' prison while their families eek out a living in the streets. You are depressed, lonely and destitute.
Then, one early morning, as you are hoeing beans in your field, you see the prison wagon meandering its way up the path toward your house. A couple of mounted sheriffs ride with it. It is a sight you have seen so many times before. Your estate will be sold to the highest bidder. You yourself will be thrown into prison to rot or to be sold elsewhere as a slave.
A deep pain overtakes your soul as you see the inheritance of four generations stolen from your family.