Jonah's Caravan

[John Harding]

Jonah Pureheart's caravan home is situated ten minutes walk from the edge of Wistvale, within the tree line of the nearby forest. If the Akaiyan tribesman is home a fire is usually burning outside.

At present, Jonah's place is in need of some serious renovation but visitors are always welcome.

[John Harding]

Jonah wolfed down the last of the food he had grabbed from the tavern, finished it off with a tankard of water and headed for the outskirts of town. With his hunger banished, the Akaiyan tribesman was ready to take on the day and go in search of a temporary residence. Jonah, being from a peaceful valley, hidden away from the hustle and bustle of urban society, highly preferred to live outside amongst the calm and serenity of nature so he had hoped to find somewhere to stay on the edge of town.

Five leaky sheds, one half-collapsed stable and a long-abandoned pigpen later and the Akaiyan wasn't any closer to finding his Wistvale home. If he didn't discover a place that offered him some shelter from the elements by the end of day Jonah was going to have to resort to a room at the tavern or sleeping under a tree in the nearby forest.

A short while later, the tribesman was close to calling it a day when he stumbled across something that reminded him of home. Concealed in the shadow of the ruins of a house was the most charming thing Jonah had seen for a long time - a caravan. Vines that climbed up the stone wall of the ruined house covered most of the top of the caravan and overgrown foliage almost buried it up to it's large yellow wheels.

Jonah began pulling away the brush and ivy until the caravan was fully revealed. It was gorgeous (despite the flaking paintwork on the decorative door). The inside had enough space to sleep and store the bare necessities, it just needed a bit of an all-seasons clean. (Back home in the Vulkurian Valley, the Akaiyan tribe had a few caravans they used when journeying to far away towns and villages.) It was perfect...but would be even better if it were moved just outside of Wistvale, next to the forest perhaps.

From the outside, Jonah watched his new home thoughtfully. It was too big and heavy to push on his own and he didn't really know anyone who would be willing to help (aside from Garret, but the tribesman didn't want to bother him) and he didn't have enough money to pay someone to do it. It's a shame he didn't have any magical friends in town.

Hmm...

Horses! That was the answer. Horses. Surely the ones from the stagecoach were still in town - probably in a stable somewhere. With a spring in his step, the Akaiyan tribesman hurried off in search of some equine.

[John Harding]

Jonah, grinning from ear to ear, returned some time later accompanied by a short, gruff dwarf with black beard and hair tied in a tail down to his waist. The dwarf's dirty shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, revealing hairy muscled arms that tugged on the reins of the two grey horses that trotted behind him.

There it is. Isn't she beautiful? Jonah said, pointing out the caravan.

The dwarf looked unimpressed and grunted his response with an "mmhmm".

So, do you think you can move it? The tribesman looked hopeful.

The gruff dwarf rubbed his beard and nodded.

So, you use your horses to move the caravan out of town and I will clean out your stables for the next month, like we agreed?

The dwarven stableman grumbled his assent and guided the horses towards the caravan where he got to work moving Jonah's new home.

[John Harding]

Jonah chose a parking spot for his caravan, just along the edge of the forest outside of Wistvale, and told the dour dwarf to stop there. Both the tribesman and the dwarf worked together to free the horses and then Jonah was left alone to bring some order to the interior of his new home.

From inside the once-forgotten caravan Jonah removed almost everything; old sheets and worn clothing, discarded books and torn newspapers, broken crockery and beaded jewellery, melted candles and a very holey shoe. The tribesman tossed everything into a pile outside and, once satisfied with the blank canvas inside, commenced building a fire, collecting wood from his new neighborhood - the woodland.

Using his flint knife to strike a spark, it wasn't long before Jonah got a small fire burning. The temperature slowly cooled as the afternoon slipped away. Jonah took off his sandals, rubbed his feet, and sat down cross-legged next to the enticing flames.

It was almost like home.

[John Harding]

The camp fire was out. The caravan was quiet. A note had been stucked to the door. It read:

Travellers & Friends,

I have gone to continue my journey beyond this Frontier town and into the Uncharted Lands. I do not know if or when I will return so I leave this caravan as shelter for any who may need it.

Safe travels,

Jonah "Pureheart" Harding[/font]