Travel to the hamlet

Aaralon had seconds to choose and he knew not to take a foolish risk when he couldn't weigh up the options. He reached out and touched the hamlet's globes.

He was standing on muddy, wagon beaten, grass. Aaralon did not even have time to wonder whether the globe had worked. He was transported.

Aaralon did have time to wonder whether the person-less view of the mountainside hamlet had been accurate. There was no one in sight. A chill wind blew through the air and the only sound was the faint rustle of alpine trees. A hen clucked. A cow moo'd and slowly more sounds reached Aaralon's ears. Perhaps it was a side effect of the magic or perhaps he had simply teleported into the hamlet during a quiet second, Aaralon mused the details from where he stood in the centre of the hamlet's thoroughfare.

Aaralon took a step forward just as the first person walked around the corner. Another coincidence or perhaps effect of the spell. Although he couldn't sense any magic, Aaralon was beginning to wonder about the reality of the hamlet. It felt real though. It was a woman who had walked into view. She wasn't pretty. She was old, wrinkled and carrying a wicker basket of washing. A moment later a young boy came running out of one of the small cottages. He ran across the grassy thoroughfare and darted behind his neighbour's house.