The room smelt of pine, and the glass windows allowed the deep, red morning light to shine onto the old tavern’s floor. The old wooden floors sat in silence as they bathed in the sunlight before a long day of being used by the tavern goers and weary travelers staying in a few of the beds. The barkeeper stood there, near a few kegs of ale and other liquor, cleaning mugs and glasses for the morning groups that flocked in during the hunting season. As he had just finished polishing the glasses, a new stranger walked in. This new man strode in with worn leather boots; they could tell the tale of many hunts and lands; armor created from tough leather scattered with studs around the seams and neck areas, and various weapons were bound to his body. A bow was mounted on his back with a quiver of arrows next to the bow crafted from fine oak, a dagger at his ankles, and a short sword at his waist, and unbeknownst to the tavern keeper, a pouch of throwing daggers under his shirt.

"A pint of ale, please," spoke the stranger. The tavern keeper picked up one of the newly cleaned glasses and walked over to the keg, slowly pushing down on the tap to release the aged liquid. As the tavern keeper slid down the glass, he asked the stranger, "So where do you come from, fellow? Haven't seen many like you around in these hunting areas."

"I wish not to speak of where I come from, for I live in the hills, the forests, and the meadows...I have no home. I am not a hunter like the others that usually visit these places...I am a treasure hunter...gold, chaser-anything to get me a spot of gold." The stranger sipped on his ale and halted while setting it down again as the door creaked open, and a small figure was blazed in light from the morning sun.

This new figure was shrouded in a brown robe that wielded a hood to hide his aged face. In his weak hand, he held a small walking stick to aid his frail body, and he wore old, nearly destroyed, leather sandals. The bartender or the strange traveler couldn’t see the facial figures of the man, but he walked with silence and appeared to move fast for a man of such an age. He slid onto a stool and asked for a small glass of water from the bartender.

"So, old man," the stranger in black began, "what brings your frail, weak soul into these parts?"

"Many things, young one...many things...a story of gold, riches have brought me here. What about you, young one?"

"Hunts, treasure...riches...much the same as you," spoke the stranger while looking at the tavern keeper who was cleaning the area behind where he sat.

"Oh really?" the old man exclaimed, "I am too weak to go, but I know of a place you should search. Follow this road east until you meet a fork where the signs have fallen as the forest reclaims the road. From there, take the far left path and look for a tree that is larger than most and seems to stand alone. Near there will be a cave and within the cave is what you seek."

The stranger nodded, took a final gulp of his ale, and said farewell to the two tavern goers. As he left the door, the old man laughed a light laugh under his hood and set down the glass onto the tavern bar.

The stranger walked down the road and followed the smoke that bellowed from the forest top. As he got closer, he could smell savory chicken roasted on the skewer. As he walked into the camp, two fellows jumped to their feet, brought their weapons to arms, and shouted, "What is your name, trespasser!”

"Fellows, fellows, it is I, Cirdan," spoke the stranger as he approached his camp to eat with his friends. "I see you found some food for us, Ashe, or was it Daith?" he spoke, looking back and forth between the two.

"Took us both to chase it down," said Ashe as they all laughed near the end of his sentence. Then they all sat down; Cirdan took the skewer off the fire and prepared the chicken. They sat around the fire telling jokes when Cirdan finally spoke up about the old man from the tavern's tale. Both Ashe and Daith watched Cirdan's lips with curiosity. With the story finished and their minds eager to set out, they finished eating and put out the fire leaving only a few smoldering ashes behind. They took down the tent, put everything onto their mounts, and headed eastward along the road, looking and waiting for the fork where the sign had fallen.

They followed the road, passing a small village and a small farmhouse where a few children were outside. They once again entered a forested area where they found a little girl skipping towards them from the forest. They all looked at each other confused; why would such a young girl wander the woods alone? They watched her pass and listened to a faint song she whispered as she passed...

Toil working the soil
The days of hardship
Have finally passed
The work is shown
Of days long passed
Without greed or anger
We sit today
Feasting on our blessings...

But the song faded as the little skipping girl did around the corner to her home. They shook themselves out of their surprised status and continued, the song looming in the back of their heads. They continued walking down the lonely road until they reached the road with four faintly marked dividing paths. They followed the old man's directions and looked for a small sign. The sign was under a small piece of the brush, and they took the path into the forest farthest left. They finally found a clearing as they continued walking with their bulky mounts that sometimes could barely stand on the unstable terrain. Inside stood a large tree. The tree stood alone in greatness with no one to challenge its power or profoundness. The tree seemed to have been there for ages and survived many forests. Scares laid upon the tree from where a fire had once licked its limbs in delight. Its branching spanned the clearing, bringing shade to the grass surrounding it. Ashe, Cirdan, and Daith tied the mounts to a large rock, which stood alone like the tree in the clearing. They then looked about, trying to find this cave the old man spoke about.

As they searched in vain, unable to find any way to a cave, they stumbled down an eroded edge of the earth. All three men toppled down the side against each other, smacking heads, flailing arms, trying to grab onto something, and yelling the whole way. At the bottom, they fought, threw a few punches, and argued about who caused them to fall. The treasure seekers then walked down the path to a large cave opening. The three then walked inside and began searching the empty cave. They talked and decided to split up; it would cover more areas faster and perhaps find the treasures much easier. Ashe followed a small cavern to the left. Daith and Cirdan looked about the enormous cavern they stood in. As Ashe walked along his path, he looked at the large formations formed from years of aging. Just then, Ashe had tripped, and his hand crashed on the cave wall, where it then fell apart and exposed a pile of jewels and gold. He quickly shoved some to the side inside a small. He then ran back to the main cavern calling for Cirdan and Daith; they followed him back to the find. They all congratulated him and walked off, looking for more as he smirked behind the back of his friends. Cirdan and Daith both walked together towards the cavern opening, chatting about how large the find Ashe had found; when they finally exited the small sub-cavern, they went back to their areas. Daith had continued to look and saw his efforts in vain and sat down on the ground and leaned back. Just as what had happened with Ashe happened with Daith, he hid some for himself and called Ashe and Cirdan over. Now, Cirdan, the leader of this search, had found nothing, nothing at all, and grew jealous of the other two finding treasures, and he did not. So in his mind, he plotted the death of his comrades so he could have all of the treasure to himself. Unknown to him, Ashe and Daith were all planning the same as Cirdan; why share...when you can have it all.

So as they sat around the giant tree, their minds dreaming of wealth...and treason, a fire blazing, they chatted about what they would do with the gold. They all spoke with lies as they said what the other would do with their share...yet they wouldn't have one due to a mishap death. Each plotted different plans to kill the others using their unique skills. Ashe pondered on maybe poisoning the drinks with some strong poison, Daith decided to find a particular plant and poison the food they were to eat, and Cirdan planned to slit the throats of his fellows.

In the morning, Cirdan woke early before the other two had awoken and slipped two daggers into his sleeves, hiding them from view but adding easy access. He then went back to sleep and waited for the others to wake up; he wanted them to enjoy death. When they all awoke, Ashe took a quick walk and quietly took his pestle and mortar. Ashe, a trained alchemist, ground together some special herbs and created a tiny bit of poison for Daith and Cirdan’s drinks. Daith, a botany expert, told Cirdan he’d be back in a second, saying he’d search for herbs to improve the food. He searched the ground, found a poisonous leaf, and used it to later poison the food. They all sat around the fire, thinking they had outdone each other. As they drank and ate, Cirdan tasted the poison, as did Daith, and they attacked Ashe. The dagger of Cirdan and the hands of Daith slew Ashe. The last two looked at each other and had each other in a stalemate, where they both collapsed from poisoning. Lying there in a pool of blood was Ashe gasping as his life left him, Daith, and Cirdan’s corpses on the ground strangling each other stiff from the poison. The frail old man appeared and loomed over the fire, he touched the bodies of the three dead men, and they turned ghost-gray. The old man walked off and laughed as he disappeared into the forest's darkness.

The greed and lust that brought them together in the journey got them to death in the end.