Waking up, a dirty man in rags had no idea where he was, lying in the warm desert sand with a mountain range in view. “Where am I? Hello!” The man yelled. Scanning his surroundings he sat up and picked up a note sticking out of the sand. He read; “Dear herald, good luck you’ll need it.”  Herald franticly ran around screaming for help. He tripped over a stick and fell face first into the sand.
     “I’m a problem solver!” he said. Grabbing the stick he set off, just walking… “Walking, sand, sun, cactus, walking, sand, sun, cactus…” the heat and water desperation messed with his mind.
Is it snowing, is the sky yellow, where’d the ground go?  Then everything went dark.
     The world was a different place. Food was scarce, sand everywhere, only groups survived.
     “The sun is setting, prepare your torches!” Announced the general “No more shall travelers be harassed by these fiends!”
    “Huzzah!” cried the soldiers. The sun was gone and now nothing, until thirty five small lights flickered to life. Everything seemed fine at the village. It was dinner time, one fresh man and three from yesterday’s caravan raid. But soon there was panic, fires raging screams, and slashing swords. The general and his men destroyed the cannibal village.
“There’s one left alive over here sir.”- Said one of the soldiers
     “Let me see.”-Replied the general. Inside one of the building there was a filthy man in rags clutching a stick in his hands. “We are thin on manpower, grab him and put him to the test.”-Ordered the general.
     “What test?”-Asked the man. Herald had passed out in the desert on his quest for self-preservation. After being found by cannibals he ended up here. The soldiers gave him a dull short sword. It was covered in soot with a leather covered handle, what would he need this for? A few men grabbed him and threw him into a circle of chanting soldiers, he was no alone. A cannibal was standing on the other side of the circle. He was wielding a big stick, before herald thought to make a move the cannibal ran towards him. He screamed in an inhumanly way. The cannibal tossed the stick away before he tackled herald. His nails digging into herald’s skin and his teeth sinking into his arm. Herald was screaming in agony. He freed his arm from the cannibal’s grasp, and was able to grab his sword. Holding the handle tight herald bashed the hilt of his sword on the side of the cannibal’s head, over and over again. The cannibal had seized his attack. He was dragged away from the cannibal’s body with his sword still tight in hand. He was covered in blood sweat and sand. He felt as if he would be sick, and he could not stand.
     “Well done!” said the general.
     “For a lil’ baby!” cried one of the soldiers.
     The group of soldiers had cleaned him up and gave him bread, and cactus juice. Later they had loaded him with bags of food, armor, and spoils of war. That way they didn’t have to carry most of it themselves. Encumbered and tired, Herald set off with the group knowing it was his only chance at survival. After walking for what seemed like forever, Herald and the group arrived at a city made of sand stone. This was no city that herald was used to. It had castle walls, sentry guards clad in orange tabard covered chainmail, crusader helms, spears, and triangular orange shields with a sigil of two blades crossing under a stag. There were beggars in the streets and tall towers with giant crossbows mounted on them.
      “You know, the city’s prosperity is at a decline.” said one of the soldiers.
     “How?” replied herald “you appear to have survived quite a while so far.” The soldier took of his crusader helm He was a middle aged man with a scraggly brown beard.
     “Things change, especially when the farms are raided. We are running low on food and people are dying. It’s not as if you find a lot of people out here, especially ones willing to follow you. There are no horses here. Other than the ones we brought, which makes people stay away from this place.” explained the soldier.
    “How did any of this happen in the first place?” asked Herald.
    “It was greed, everyone wants the world for them self.” answered the soldier. “War broke out, and now more people are dying.”
     “What other people?” asked Herald.
     “There are bandits, cannibals, pilgrims, prophets, and kings who hide behind walls of their own. It won’t be long before one of them comes for us. Most likely some lord from the east. You’re best chance is to desert and hide, no one would notice. Don’t get involved with any raiders, they will never be able to hold up this society after they’ve sacked It.” said the soldier.
     “What about you, what would you do?” questioned Herald.
     “I have to stay here, they’d know if I left. I’ve been here too long.” replied the soldier. “But you, you have a chance.”
     “Where would I go?” asked Herald.
     “You’d have to find some place that is stable. I heard they have a caravan for beggars that goes north of the mountains. You could find a job there.” explained the soldier. “Go now, take refuge in the inn by the south wall. Find that caravan.”
     “Goodbye and good luck.” said herald.
     “You too.” concluded the soldier.
     Herald gave the bags to the soldier, and then slipped behind one of the many houses. Herald waited until he could not hear and more armor clanking. His rags made him fit right into the poor populace. He slowly wondered around the city until he came to a place with buildings connected to each other with a narrow passageway, and winding stairs in between. There weren’t very many people here. Only a few people carrying bags over their shoulders and some beggars. Herald didn’t realize how dark it had gotten. Herald entered a clearing with a big abandoned grain mill in the center. Herald climbed the tower with caution. The ladder had clearly been there for a long time. Once above Herald moved some bags of grain over by a window, and then he sat on the edge.
     “You can see everything from here.” Herald said while looking down on the city. The city was shaped like a triangle pointing north. Embedded in the top corner of the city, there was a great pyramid with stairs going up to two large golden doors. Herald re-entered the old tower and lay down on the bags of grain, and slept as the night grew darker.
     Herald woke suddenly to an unpleasant sound.
     “Aaaargh!” screamed a man
     Herald looked out the window, and to his horror, the city was on fire! Herald got up and rushed down the ladder. “This must be what that soldier was talking about.” Herald said aloud. When he had gotten to the bottom he could see bodies lying on the ground through the doorway. Herald pulled out his short sword before exiting the building. The first thing he saw was two bodies lying on the ground, and one pinned to the wall of the tower. A horseman from the city guard appeared through some buildings.
     “Run get out of here, they’re coming!” said the horseman. An arrow pierced through the soldier, Herald couldn’t bear to look, but he knew what he had to do. Herald had never ridden a horse before. He pulled himself on top, and the horse ran out of control. The horse stormed right through the burning gates. Riding away, he could see the smoke rising in the distance.
     Herald’s journey soon came to a halt as the horse got tired. He had no extra food or water. No warm clothes, he had nothing.  He kept going anyway. While riding along a stone road Herald came across a column of smoke in the distance. Was it a town or a camp? Herald went to go investigate. As he got nearer he could see smaller smoke columns. Herald rode up to a ridge, and looked down. From there he could see a large encampment with little figures moving around below. Herald also noticed that the scenery was changing. The tents were outside of a forest entrance. The ground that herald had been riding on was short, dry grass. Herald didn’t take the camp as a threat. There were no horses, and no guards. Upon arriving at the camp a man wearing chainmail walked up to him.
     “Who are ya?” asked the man
     “My name is herald, who are you?” replied herald as he dismounted his horse.
     “I bring people who can’t live here anymore to the north. If they can still work then they’re still useful.” explained the man.
     “What kind of work?” questioned herald.
     “Smithin’, farmin’ a whole load of junk.” said the man.
     “So, if I wanted work, you’d take me north? Beyond the mountains?” asked herald
     “Yup” said the soldier after he drank from an iron flask. “As long as you work, and give me your horse.”
     “Deal” answered herald.
     The group stayed the night, and packed early in the morning. It became a routine. Long treks every day, sleep, pack, and repeat. The days and nights slowly grew colder. People would huddle around fires to keep warm. Everyone had to share food or no-one would get enough. They marched through the mountains, and you could see them slowly slide past you. They started with fifty, and only around thirty five made it. Some starved, and some died of the cold. They finally got to the city. It was called the city in the north, Dernun. With snow above ankles and temperatures below forty, it was busier than a beehive, it was a stable society.
     The group was assigned their duties; Herald had been chosen to be a blacksmith. His old life left him with knowledge about metalworking, so he thought it would be the best decision. Herald was in a new home, and he was happy.