Despite
the fact that the floor of the 'Dancing Troll' is nowhere near as
comfortable as the beds that they have recently start to get used to
again, all were so tired that they sleep undisturbed throughout the
night. They are eventually woken at 9.00 by a loud knock and Darry's
voice.
"I've come down to knock you all up," he titters.
As they start to come to, he sees from the look upon their faces
that none are in the mood for levity and so departs back upstairs
once more.
The priests then depart in order to make their devotions and all
reassemble back in the tavern in order to meet with Magda and Honza.
Darry and Tharnald are starting to serve up breakfast when Magda and
Honza arrive. With Magda comes Heimlin and then a few minutes later,
Honza arrives along with Padre Fischer, who greets Padre Kokal
warmly, plus Rabin Huudovitz.
"The Sezemitze Company and the MSW arrived just before dawn,"
Honza announces with an obvious degree of relief.
They all shake Padre Fischer and Rabin by the hand and ask how the
troop's journey went. Padre Fischer tells the party that the journey
was slow due to the fact that the injured horses could not move fast,
but that they encountered no opposition along the way and so have all
arrived back safely.
Noting that this news has done little to lift the air of gloom
that surrounds the party, Honza speaks:
"So what happened in the city then?"
Winnacer slowly starts to speak:
"The Villages are safe for the time being and all those who pose a
local threat have been slain. The Lord Protektors of both Trebova and
Pardubitze have been slain, Kurtek has lost his life, and Sylva the
traitoress has been executed. We were successful in our undertaking,
but such success extracted a high toll. Many of the Foot perished in
securing the freedom for their families and a number of our new
allies within the city lost their lives as well. The pall of death
clings tightly to us and it is hard not to be overwhelmed with guilt
for the losses we witnessed with our own eyes."
"What Winnacer is trying to say," interjects Yaz, seemingly
without consideration of the guilt the LawBringer is currently
carrying, a sly smirk on his face, "is that 37 soldiers and over 50
other civs all died. But it was all worth it because we killed four
Nyemetz leaders, with no plan or reason except that they were gonna
come kill all you guys, which turned out not to be true. So we really
just created some chaos in their ranks, which should die down in a
few days when they get replaced with fresh ones."
The druid pauses for dramatic effect:
"That's what I call Justice."
Yaz then walks away, then drains his sinuses and spits a looger at
his feet that was a long time coming.
Bennett shakes his head, in the familiar manner the others all see
so often:
"Is that really what you think, Yaz? Really? If so, you should
have objected or offered up something to the plan. We acted with our
hearts and the protection of these people, no matter whether it
turned out to be justified or not. And make no mistake, we made a
statement to the Nyemetz yesterday. We told them they weren't safe,
not even in their own cities protected by hundreds of troops. People
died, but they died for a reason. You make it sound like we killed
them. You don't really believe that, do you?"
Bennett is not angry, more dispirited, obviously trying to see
some good in the death, and not at all happy to have Yaz bring him
out of his ignorance.
Yaz shrugs and looks down as he walks, clearly not wanting to
talk, and equally clearly in a lousy mood:
"You know me, Bennett... I was just as geared up to kill the
Nyemetz leaders as you were. But now it seems like such a mistake.
It's a good thing they were only civs.. what if next time it's real
innocents? Like children? Or worse, Prirodna's children, the trees?
Our hearts... yeah, we acted with our hearts... but sometimes I wish
I had a f***ing brain as well."
Bennett nods as Yaz walks away:
"You are not alone, my friend, not at all."
With a look of pure disdain at the departing Yaz's comment, Padre
Kokal steps up to speak to Honza and his fellow clergyman:
"That one can actually count that 'igh," he says to them
humorlessly. "Wouldn't think it, right off, would ye?"
Kokal then turns even graver:
"Though so many of 'em 'ave passed on t'Radegast's hall, th'
families may can take some small comfort in the valor they went with.
An' despite our dull-witted friend's thought, the Foot 'elped t'deal
th' accursed Nyemetz scourge a cut that will leave 'em a good scar, I
think, an' 'elp this country toward its freedom."
Honza has listened to the tale of the events in Pardubitze without
commenting. He can be seen to have a pained expression on his face,
and shakes his head slowly from time to time. Eventually he comments,
starting with a deep sigh:
"I really don't know what to think, quite rightly. If it's true,
and the villages are no longer in imminent danger of attack, then
what you did has saved the lives of several hundreds, if not more.
But …"
His voice trails off for a moment:
"… so many dead."
He pauses once more:
"I'm no stranger to war, although it has been absent in my life
for a long time now. I knew when we started our activities that many
would lose their lives in the struggle and I daresay that many more
will also shed blood before Bohavia is free. I just didn't expect
that so many would lose their lives so quickly."
"I just wish that I had been there, fighting at their side."
The Padre nods, and then continues:
"Seein' that, we cannot let the sacrifice of the martyr'd Foot
bring any more suffering than their physical loss t'us. I wonder if
ye two might 'ave a way t'send a letter fer me back to Padre
Commander Lukas in Pardubitze? We were in such haste after th'battle
that I did not 'ave time t'see 'im myself an' tell 'im of th' Foot's
fate -- though p'raps by now th'other Padres 'o were with us 'ave
done it.... but I know Padre Lukas can bring the means of Radegast's
Church t'see t'th needs of the widows an' orphans of such heroes,
eh?"
Padre Fischer answers Kokal:
"Seeing as how we're only a day's ride from Pardubitze, I was
planning on making the trip to see the Padre Commander tomorrow in
order to ask him for further instructions and to ask him whether I
should still concentrate upon training the militia in the Orlitze
Valley. I would be happy to take a letter with me if you wish to send
word to him."
Magda then responds to Kokal:
"Thank you for your thoughts regarding supplying alms to the
bereaved. It is very thoughtful of you. However, thanks to the recent
benevolence of LawBringer Stradheim, the Parish of Holitze has
sufficient funds to ensure that the families of those who gave their
lives in the struggle shall not want for the time being."
"I am sure that the Church of Radegast have other pressing uses
for their funds if they are planning to continue with their task of
freeing the city. I would not wish to deprive them of all that they
need for this task."
Padre Kokal responds to Magda with a nod and then continues:
"I think I should go with ye when ye 'ave t'deliver th'news
t'their families, priestess. Seems only right that someone of our
order take part in such a thing."
"Once again I would like to thank you for your kind thoughts,
Padre, as this is not a task that I am looking forward to," Magda
replies. "However, the families of the bereaved are spread throughout
the four villages in the area and so this task will take me a while
to complete. I know that the others are anxious to head off for
Olmutz as soon as possible and so I would not wish to delay your
journey."
"P'raps ye could use an escort, priestess?" Kokal presses,
tentatively.
In the course of discussing the fate of the Foot, he has become
more melancholy, and now his countenance is very similar to the
malaise Winnacer has seemingly felt since the battle on the Great
Square of Pardubitze.
"Th'others may sure want t'be off, but ... after th'square an'
th'Foot an' what 'as come since -- p'raps I could not better serve
th'cause on some other path...." he rambles, his voice trailing into
a mumbled plea to his god for guidance.
By the time he finishes the thought, Kokal has drifted off
completely, and without seeming to acknowledge Magda -- or Honza,
Padre Fischer or anyone else who might have heard him -- or wait for
any reply, he begins to walk slowly away, awash in consideration.
While the majority of the group is discussing the results of the
previous day's activities, the two squires, Milan and Tadeus, enter
the tavern along with Will's dog, Min.
Min is overjoyed to see his long last master, and runs up to him.
Will is equally delighted at being reunited with his faithful canine
companion. Having a lot of catching up to do with the dog, Will sits
on the opposite side of the room from the others and spends most of
the time sitting, deep in thought, absent mindedly stroking the small
dog's coat.
After finishing with the others, Yaz walks over to Will. He
approaches him without hesitation, not noticing his contemplative
mood. He holds out his scimitar, the blade a little too close to the
bard's face:
"You know stuff about things, right? Stories and all that. D'you
know anything about this?"
He motions for him to take it:
"S'posed to be magic. Doesn't hit too well though."
Will glances up at Yaz and holds his hands out for the blade.
When Yaz gives it to him, the bard turns it over in his hands
absentmindedly:
"So much blood. So much pain and anger."
"No, no," replies Yaz as he points to various spots on the blade,
"that's just rust. And a little dirt I think."
After a moment or two, Will seems to focus and begins earnestly
studying the blade. He scans down the length of the weapon, examining
it for clues of its make and origin.
"Most weapons of much worth are marked by their creator. Even if
the forgers do not consciously place their symbol upon the blade,
their signature lies spread throughout it, notice the honing marks
here that have hardened since tempering. I know just enough to pick
out a thing or two here and there, and how to use these clues to
sometimes trace them back to their origins."
Will spends a while examining the blade, but eventually shakes his
head:
"I'm sorry," he replies, "but it is not like any blade that I have
seen before. I don't think that it is Bohavian originally. I think it
must be of foreign make."
Yaz gives a little shrug and then retrieves the scimitar.
Bennett, who briefly thought about following Yaz, waits until he
leaves and then heads over to Will as well. He hands him the Trebova
broadsword:
"How about this? It looks like a well-storied item."
Will spends a moment looking at the blade and then his eyes light
up a little:
"This came from the Lord Protektor of Trebova?" the bard asks.
Bennett nods.
"In that case, I think that I do know the story behind this
blade," Will answers.
"Around two centuries ago, Trebova was ruled by a particularly
unpleasant mage that went by the name of Teodor the Tyrant, or Teodor
the Terrible Tempered or Teodor the Tantrum, depending upon whose
stories you listen to."
Bennett smiles, already enjoying the tale.
"As with all Master Mages, his name was not earned lightly and,
from the stories I've heard, life under his rule was perhaps even
worse than it is today under the Nyemetz. Teodor did not suffer fools
gladly and had a terrible wrath for those who did not serve him well.
While we were keeping watch over the town, you might have seen the
town's coat-of-arms flying above the city which consists of a
creature with the head of a gnome and the body of a chicken."
"Wondered about that," Bennett notes, striving to remember the
Trebovan flag.
"These arms date back to the days of Teodor, when the town's
scribe was a gnome by the name of Bahlsen. One day the scribe lost
the town's seal and Teodor was so incensed at the gnome's stupidity
that he immediately polymorphed the unfortunate scribe into a chicken
to teach the rest of his staff a lesson."
Bennett nods:
"Gnome, chicken, not too much difference."
Then, noting the affinity the group have for a particular gnome
family:
"I mean, well...."
"However, he did not succeed in his plans, as Bahlsen was a
popular fellow and his other staff took this to be the final straw,"
the bard continues. "That night, Teodor's bodyguard entered into the
room where he was sleeping and lopped off the Mad Mage's head with
this very blade."
Bennett looks at the blade:
"Okay! This blade has some history!"
"The townspeople of Trebova were so grateful at the bodyguard's
actions that they elected him the first democratically elected mayor
of the town, and this blade has remained the ceremonial badge of
office since those days," Will finishes. "The coat-of-arms also came
into existence then as a reminder of the tyranny of Teodor's time."
Bennett smiles:
"I wonder if the Protektor knew the history. Ironic that he get
the same treatment that the rightful bearer of his sword would have
dealt him, were he still alive. Nice story, Will."
Will looks at the blade closely once more:
"As it belonged to a mage's bodyguard, I would imagine that the
blade is magickal, but I would doubt that the magic is very strong,
or else I am sure it would have been taken by one of the more senior
Nyemetz official by now."
Delighted by the story, Bennett thanks the bard, retrieves the
weapon and then leaves Will alone with Min and his thoughts.
Bennett slashes the weapon about, smiling:
"Then I name you, blade, Decapitation!"
He smiles:
"May you carve another tyrant neck or two before you are done!"
Will then beckons Yaz to come forward:
"Tell me Yaz, do you still desire to learn your letters? If so, I
would like to continue our lessons. This war is taking too much of
our souls, our humanity if you will. I need to take some time to
remember what it is that I am fighting towards. The freedom to teach
literacy, the liberation of all knowledge to all peoples. Would you
grant me the chance to do that?"
Yaz looks a little blank, but shrugs and replies earnestly:
"Sure... I've been wanting to learn... letters?... for a while...
Actually, I learned once, from my parents, but that was a long time
ago and I forget. My dad was a storyteller and musician like you,
y'know. Played the flute."
He makes a motion with his hands up near his face, fingers flying,
to illustrate. An honest, unselfconscious smile comes to his face
with the thought:
"Can we do it now? Jihan says there's libraries in Olmutz, and
that they might have books on plants and herbs. I'd like to read some
of those when we get there."
Yaz peers at his fellow halfbreed in all seriousness.
"Yes, we can begin any time we have a moment," Will replies. "I'm
not sure how much you can learn between here and Olmutz, but we can
certainly get those plant and herb books and learn from them while we
read them together."
Having said this, Will begins with the ABCs once again with Yaz.
Jihan, apparently having reached some sort of conclusion from his
night of contemplation out amongst the stars, seeks out Heimlin
during the morning:
"The currents of the revolution pull us along further and further
again, brother," he begins cryptically, his eyes slightly disturbed,
"and I wonder if it is not time to give breath again to sparks the
Nyemetz have tried to stamp out for too long..."
Looking at the gnome solemnly, he continues:
"I need not restate history for you to know the relationship the
Nyemetz have had with your people... Indeed, the pain they have
caused haunts me to this day. But with the fires of the revolution
now burning in earnest, I wonder if it is not time to bring something
back out of the ashes... Tell me, brother, in your trading days, did
you have contact with The Guard?"
"The Guard?" Heimlin questions, trying to wrack his brains. "Now
that rings a little bell somewhere far away. But I can't for the life
of me remember why. What else do yer know abouts this Guard?"
The elf has out a glassteel dagger with which he begins
absentmindedly scoring the tabletop. The result is the symbol of an
open hand with a half open eye on the palm. None of the others have
noticed it before, or made special note of it, but there is a
half-opened eye tatooed on Jihan's own left palm, which he has been
careful to conceal up to this point, but which he now presents
directly to Heimlin, slanting his head questioningly"
"The 'Mordion' I called them in elvish, basically 'sons of the
shadows'. Few knew of them, though many felt the results of their
actions..." he says, examining the symbol carefully. "Your uncle
bears one of these, and it was he who placed this on me. The Guard
was a league of gnomes, halflings, and their allies that tried to
save their people from the persecution and contempt of the Nyemetz
when it became apparent that these conquerers saw them only as a
natural resource to be exploited without mercy... Never before had
gnome or halfling banded together in war before, as, despite the
goings on of the more agressive neighbours, they were a peaceful
people. They knew that they could not confront their oppressors in
hand to hand, as their numbers were just too few, and their hand too
weak, but there is one thing gnomes and halflings could do very well:
take to ground. Not just hide away and hope things would turn out for
the better, not just hole themselves up and pretend that nothing was
wrong, but work AMIDST the other races... Between them, behind their
backs. Such had always been their way. When the Nyemetz came and
started taking these peaceful folk as slaves in droves, this
inclination went one step further, and the Guard was formed..."
His eyes going distant, Jihan lowers his tone and speaks gravely:
"It had begun its formation during the Civil War, when it became
apparent that the gnomes and halflings were to be bystanders without
as concrete a stake in things as the humans, elves or dwarves. All
the Guard wanted was to make sure that halflings and gnomes would
have a place in the country when all the pieces were picked up, but
the Nyemetz changed that. In all my years with Luuhan, only the first
few were not spent running... His trading contacts and fellow
merchants were the bare bones of what the Guard would become. Most of
our operations were in the south and the west, closer to the capital
cities, though we came north occasionally to visit the old gnome's
family..."
"But despite all the careful planning and organization, the
Nyemetz occupation went on longer than was believed possible. We
never truly thought that they would win until the very end, and then
it was almost too late. We ran, and ran, finding friends dead where
before there would be a roof over our heads... And as the occupation
went on further, safehouses and secret meeting places were uprooted.
Flames and pain and fear... That's the last thing I remember before
fleeing back to Shumava, to sit on my hands in worry. I don't know if
any of the safehouses remain, but the contacts are still there, or
their sons and daughters... I think it may be time to resurrect the
Guard, to get an eye across Bohavia again... To get a voice on the
roads to reunite the people's thoughts. Now it will not be only for
the gnomes and halflings of the country, but for all oppressed..."
His eyes returning to the present, the elf extends a hand onto
Heimlin's own on the table:
"You payed the Nyemetz for your safety, and that of your family,
for your very livelihood... I know you must've made a lot of
acquaintances in the business... Perhaps it would be a good thing to
get in contact with them again, those you feel you can trust, and
test their sentiments. See if they would be willing to be the eyes
and ears of a New Guard in Bohavia. There were people inside almost
every town and city across the country that would nod their heads
when they were flashed this symbol," he continues, extending his
hand, "but I never really got to know any of the men and women on the
top. That was Luuhan's domain, and I never really felt comfortable in
the role, nor in a lot of things. But a lot has happened this past
week to open my eyes... Perhaps times are changing..."
Looking at the dagger in his hand and the half-open eye on the
other, he sets his jaw and turns his multi-colored eyes towards
Heimlin's own.
"So I have a new message for you to give to your uncle if you or
any of your friends come in contact with him again. Tell him that his
boy finally got that blindfold off, and that he wants the Mordion to
arise again..."
Heimlin nods:
"I do remember somethin' about The Guard now that yer mentions
it," the gnome replies. "I ain't 'eard nothin' about 'em for the best
part o' twenty years though, not since the Nyemetz took control over
the country fully. I reckons that they realized that they wouldn't be
able to do much once the Nyemetz got so powerful."
"I reckon that it's gotta be worth talkin' to Luuhan about if yer
ever meets up with 'im. If 'e ever catches up wiv me, then I'll do
the same, though I don't see 'ow 'e's gonna find me 'ere, then I'll
certainly have a word wiv 'im about it."
"I 'ave to say that I lost contact wiv most o' me ole gnomish
mates over time outside Mnyesto, as it weren't safe to go travelin'
out o' the city after the Nyemetz closed down the gates. There's a
few good ole boys left in Mnyesto that I knows, although each year a
few more o' them were taken. If yer ever thinkin' o' goin' back to
Mnyesto, then I'd be 'appy to come along wiv yer and introduce them
to yers."
Jihan nods his head with a smile and clasps the gnome's hand:
"Thank you, brother," he says. "I knew I could count on you. The
Mordion WILL rise again, for the good of all Bohavia!"
Bennett has nothing in particular to say to the Holitzers and is
obviously impatient to get on with the journey to Vysoke Myto. He
wanders out of the 'Dancing Troll' and sees the horses of the
Sezemitze Company tethered on the village green before the tavern,
reminding him about his own missing mount. He wanders over to one of
the troopers that is seeing to the horses and speaks to him:
"I don't suppose you ran across a lame horse on your way back from
the battle did you?" he asks hopefully.
The trooper just shakes his head in response, however:
"Sorry, mate, we didn't see no spare 'orses."
As Bennett finishes speaking with the trooper, Padre Kokal
approaches, apparently having emerged from the private medititions
begun while he spoke with Magda, though his demeanor is still grave.
"Bennett ... a word with ye, if ye would," he begins.
Bennett sighs exaggeratedly, but listens to what the Padre has to
say.
"In fact," he goes on, raising his voice enough so that any who
care to can hear, "p'raps all of ye should 'ear this....."
"... 'specially you, priestess," he nods to Aneira.
"Before any decision must be made on where next th' road will
lead, I want t'give ye my apology fer 'ow I jumped on ye back there
after the fight," Kokal says. "An' I give it t'all of ye, though most
t'Bennett an' Priestess Aneira. Not so much fer WHY I said and did
what I did, because my immediate cause was to stand fer a comrade who
I saw unjustly threatened, as I e'er shall -- but fer 'ow an' when."
Bennett begins to look angrily, assuming the Padre wants to fight
some more, but realizing the intent, he calms down. He seems
distracted, though, paying not too much attention to the Padre's
words.
"As Bennett said," the Padre continues, humbly. "I 'ave done but
little in yer eyes fer any of ye t'ave taken any criticism from me,
'specially right then with the heat of battle not so long past. I
should 'ave seen that, 'ad my own mind not still bein' flooded with
th'rage an' shame of the corpses of the slaughtered Foot I led into
th'Square -- the very fault I lashed Xavier over fer carryin' with
him rage from Roga an' lettin' it affect 'is thinkin' over th'loss of
'is helm. Not an excuse, t'be sure, but at least p'raps an
explanation."
"I apologize t'ye all fer my untimely an' unreasonable words."
Bennett speaks, briefly interrupting the Padre:
"No shame, Padre. We all get angry and say things we don't mean,
though some of us are more willing to admit it than others."
"Still, if ye can accept that an' see beyond m'poor judgment in
th'timin' an' tone an' 'ear me more as a comrade -- a friend ..of
th'cause at least, if not of ye each -- than as a judge .....," the
Padre goes on, with an awkward caution not much seen before this,
before gathering his wits and forging ahead with an exhale of
frustration and/or determination.
Bennett appears ready to throw in a snide comment, but the sincere
look on the Padre's face wipes it away.
"Y'are all great engines fer th'freedom of this land," The Padre
continues. "An' when ye came t'th Vine two days ago, I 'ad 'ardly a
thought that I might 'ave th'chance t'join such a group th'struggle
t'free Bohavia -- but I was ... AM ... only too proud to seize
th'chance when I seemed t'see it. It is ever upliftin' t'me t'be
among those with the courage t'stand against the Nyemetz scourge with
whate'er they may."
"Yet, then for these two days, as much as I 'ave seen ye fight
th'pestilent scourge, I 'ave seen ye fight each other -- a part of ye
legend that 'ad not reached me before, I assure ye. I tell ye again,
as I 'ave before, it cannot be thus if ye 'ope t'succeed in driving
the Nyemetz from this land. E'en as it is that very thing in them
which will greatly tell in keepin' 'em from holdin' it much longer.
So, I thin' that if Bohavia is t'be free'd from its oppressor, then
it cannot be by those 'o 'ave a same mein -- else 'ow long will
freedom last if it e'er come?"
Bennett shakes his head, interrupting at last:
"It's not the same, man! That we have internal discourse speaks to
our passion, to our desires. Without those, we would never have
accomplished what we have. Were we all a happy little family, we
would have adjusted to the Nyemetz and still be living peacefully in
whatever niche they found for us. Each of us has our own private
ghosts, our own fierceness, our own reason for being here. Must they
be the same, or even necessarily agree, for us to work together? I
say no, and to those who voice omens of doom at our dissension, I say
bah, what have you accomplished? Some of us believe that only through
the concealment of our true selves…"
This remark is obviously not directed at the Padre, and it seems
much of the dialogue is not, for that matter:
"…will we accomplish our heart's desires. I do not, and will
never, believe that. I love like family all but one here, and that's
a stronger bond than the cause. That I do not withhold my honest
opinions and passions from them speaks for that love and respect."
Bennett turns his attention back to the Padre, though he never
stopped facing him:
"You fight well, and you argue with belief. Take not my
disagreement with you as hostility or brutishness, and then you might
begin to understand why such a disunified group has done such great
things."
"At any rate, I am likely now known to th'Nyemetz as a rebel an' I
cannot see 'ow I can do my Church or the cause any good by goin' back
there while they still occupy th'place," Kokal continues. "An' while
Bennett can make a case -- as maybe others of ye can too -- that I
'ave not been much 'elp t'ye ... maybe done more 'arm than good truth
be told? ... " he stumbles on, with some shame in his voice,
hesitating once again.
As always, no hesitation goes unfilled by Bennett:
"Don't be a fool, man. I hold you no ill will, nor do I believe
you anything but an aid to the cause. My disagreement with you was,
and is, a question of the respect for a relationship between
sword-brothers, not unified by a faith or by a commander, but unified
by friendship and common belief in a cause. Those are real qualities,
individual qualities, not outside beliefs we have come to call our
own."
Then Kokal squares his countenance, drawing on the military
discipline instilled by the Church of Radegast:
"I would like t'stay on with ye an' perhaps redeem meself an' 'elp
ye in ye quest, but I will go my own way if that would be best."
Bennett smiles a bit:
"Perhaps you think I would object to this, but I do not. I only
ask that you do not presume to preach to or lecture at me, and we
will get along fine. I have not yet kicked Xavier in his stiff
Radegastafarian backside, though he has deserved it on many
occasions, so you need not worry about me."
While Bennett is out speaking with the trooper, he sees Jihan, who
did not meet with the others in the tavern. He sees that the elf is
tending to the horses with his typical elven concern, currying their
coats of saddle burrs and cleaning their well traveled hooves. The
elf's body is covered in a slight glossy layer of sweat, with further
evidence of his daily exertions present in the form of his battle
harness and weapons layed out neatly in an empty corner of the
stable. His face is a strange mixture of excitement and apprehension,
and there is a longing in his eyes. He hums the tune of the
Journeysong to himself, as if far away.
Winnacer, the Padre and others continue to speak with Honza, Magda
and Padre Fischer for another couple of hours, until they become
aware of the other's impatience to move on to Vysoke Myto.
While the others are talking, Will sits down with Oldrich and
learns more of the 'Vibe', learning the magical ways of the bard from
an old master after struggling against the odds in trying to master
mage's crafts unwittingly.
As Jihan sees the weak sun directly overhead, he sighs deeply and
tears himself away from the conversation that he has been engrossed
in with Heimlin for the past hour:
"We should be heading on our way now," the elf says. "It will be
mid-evening by the time we get to Vysoke Myto and I don't think that
we should leave it any later than then in case Faewen'il and Xavier
get there earlier than they anticipated."
The majority of the others are pleased to be moving on and
immediately start to say their farewells to the Holitzers and head
off towards their mounts. After saying goodbye to Honza, Heimlin and
Padre Fischer, Winnacer leaves the inn along with Magda and the two
of them walk to the Chapel of Spravedelna together.
After saying his farewell to the villagers, Bennett seeks out
Ithridiel who is spending the day in the village before moving back
to the Orlitze valley along with the MSW the following day.
"I wanted to let you know, as I may not be seeing you again for
some time, that I am sorry for what happened to Lenyn, and your
brothers of the cause," says Bennett. "If you would not have saddled
up with us, then you'd probably be all alive still. Then again, you
may take comfort in knowing that we moved the revolution a great step
forward with your deeds, and if our efforts to the east are
successful, we will take it a great way further again very soon. Keep
on believing, and letting new people believe as well. Lenyn's spirit
guide you on your path."
Ithridiel smiles resolutely and clasps Bennett's hand as he
answers him:
"There is no need to apologize for the actions of the traitoress,
as Lenyn was just one of her many victims. You have repaid any debt
that you might believe that you owe us by arranging her death."
"I wish you well upon your journey to Olmutz. If your return
journey brings you through the Orlitze valley, then I hope to meet
with you then, if I am still there. If my two comrades in Pardubitze
are successful in their actions, then perhaps we should meet there,
in what could become the first free city in Bohavia after your
actions."
"So long, comrade."
"I share that hope," Bennett replies. "Good luck to you and your
brothers. I wish you all the best."
Bennett smiles then turns and exits the tavern, joining up with
the others who are already in the saddle. Milan and Tadeus have also
brought their horses from the stables and are with the rest of the
party. Winnacer is the last to join them as he comes from the Chapel
of Spravedelna alone, having left Magda there.