Journey To Olmutz

10 DECEMBER 3460

In order to have a full day of traveling and so as to finish interring the bodies as the sun comes up, they are all up at 7.00. The three clerics head out into the darkness in order to make their morning devotions outside the evil temple. Upon passing through the hole in the wall, they see that it has started raining during the night and there is now a gentle drizzle that has washed away the last vestiges of the snows. At seeing the rain, the Padre decides that saying his morning devotions in the temple isn't such a bad idea after all, but Yaz and Aneira don't seem to mind performing their devotions in the cold rain at all.

They return to the temple, where Will and Winnacer are packing away the last of the equipment.

Winnacer looks up at the soaking clerics as they return:

"Right, I think that we should be ready to go now. We just need to figure out what to do about all of the refugees."

"I thought that we'd already decided on that," Yaz replies. "Mirek and Marek are going to look after them and feed them until the Lechit priests come and take care of them."

"Are you sure that the two of them will be able to look after all of the refugees?" Winnacer asks. "There are a lot of them."

"I checked on Mirek the innkeeper earlier this morning," Aneira interjects. "His condition is still stable and so I believe that he should also be able to help the mercenaries take care of the others."

"I also asked Zima to bless me with two more enchantments for curing disease today. I can use it upon another two of Mirek's colleagues so that they are able to assist also."

"Aye," Kokal agrees. "Radegast's blessed me wit' another o' the curin' spells t'day too an' so I can cure another o' them. That'll be two mercs an' four villagers in total. The six o' them shouldn't 'ave a problem in lookin' after th' refugees for a week o' two."

Winnacer nods in agreement and the two clerics head off in order to perform the curing ritual on the shaggy villagers. Upon their return, they see to the last remaining wounds of all of the injured party members so that tey are able to start the journey in full health.

The helpers are then assembled to see off the party and Winnacer speaks to them before the party departs:

"We are leaving you now in order to obtain help for you all in Olmutz. I shall see to it that help reaches you in a little over a week, two at the most. I am confident that the Priests of Lechit shall be able to reverse your afflictions so that you can then go home to your families."

"What about us?" asks Marek. "Me an' Mirek ain't got no inflections."

Yaz speaks to his charmed friend:

"Could you just stay and look after them until the priests arrive? As a favor to me?"

Mirek and Marek chatter among themselves for a while and then respond:

"Alright, we'll do it for you as a favor, but it'll cost you. After all, you did promise to give us a cut into any valuables that you took out of this place an' we've seen that you've taken loads of coin and stuff from this place. You're loaded now, so I'm sure that you can spare a bit for your mates who've been helping you out through the kindness of our hearts, gods bless us."

They hold out their hands expectantly.

Yaz regards the two of them with his customary neutral scowl, then shrugs and drives a hand deep into his mostly-empty sack, where coins can be heard tinkling. He pulls out a handful, and selects one - a platinum piece:

"Hmm," he says, examining it carefully, "these ones are too pretty, I like these. Lemme..."

He makes to throw it back in the bag, but stops:

"Ah, what the hell, you guys deserve it. Here."

He holds the coin between thumb and forefinger and drops it into Marek's hand, then selects another platinum and gives it to Mirek. The rest of the few coins he carries he drops back into his sack as he looks up at the mercenaries and winks, with a smile.

Mirek and Marek are less than impressed with Yaz' generosity:

"One lousy plat apiece?" Mirek scowls, shaking his head; "after all that we've done for you? Sometimes I ask myself why I'm still a mate of yours."

Winnacer shakes his head and gives them fifty more gold each:

"They'll be another share for you when the relief arrives."

"That's more like it." Marek replies, biting upon Winnacer's gold. "Looks like we chose the wrong bloke to make friends with."

The party members shake Mirek and his friends by their hairy hands and then carry out the bodies of the deceased before heading out of the temple for the last time. Outside the hole in the wall are the horses, which have been waiting patiently for the party's return. There are now four more horses than they need, with Barbarrosa, Maire and Nainie all riderless now. They firstly carry the bodies of the deceased over the river using the ferry before returning to bring over the horses, which takes two more journeys until they are all on the other side of the river. Yaz ties the horses to the wagon and then Winnacer, Will, Yaz and the Padre carry the bodies of the deceased towards the tomb that they dug out the previous day.

Carefully, they place the bodies in the grave, which is an inch deep in water as a result of the rain that has fallen during the night. They look down at their former colleagues one last time through the drizzle and then Winnacer's says his final words while Will strums a sad lament upon his harp:

"When I was a child, my brothers and I would sit around my father as he told us of the feats of heroes. The men of these tales fought with bravery and were always described as unstoppable forces of will. With sharpened steel in hand, they were able to defeat any foe, occasionally meeting their demise through overwhelming odds or at the hands of a betrayer. I can remember the tales well, of how Duke Bohemond slew the Great Flapping Beast or how he defeated the orcish hordes, but the reasons why he fought never figured prominently into my father's stories. To my father, a hero was just a great warrior. Standing here, I realize how those stories trivialize what a true hero does."

"Today, we stand over those who knew what a hero truly was, even if the words would have escaped them in real lives. Each of them was a man of passion, volunteering themselves to a life of hardship and bloodshed in order to preserve the possibilities of tomorrow. Their motives were never black and white, as the truths that lay within each of their hearts can never been fully known by another. We can speak of what they fought for, the desire for liberty, the convictions of religion, or the anger at senseless atrocity, but even this falls short of explaining what they have given us all."

"It is what they have accomplished here, upon this island, that makes their names overshadow even the greatest of the ancient legends. They have lost their lives to provide hope for the multitudes of people who will now have a chance at life due to their sacrifice. The true hero places himself after the needs of others. Each of the men we pay our respects to did not blanch from the prospect of death in a disease-ridden basement at the hands of the lowest elements to plague the land. They bravely embraced their own mortality, dying the deaths of true heroes. It is incumbent upon the survivors to ensure that their sacrifices are not in vain."

"So, with this, I say my farewell to four of the greatest heroes to grace the lands of Bohavia and promise them that I shall attempt to walk in their giant footsteps. I know that their gods shall receive them and reward them well for the shining examples of their faiths while they walked upon the earth and realize that I can only aspire to incur such favor with the divinities and wish that one day that I will be reunited with them. Let each of their tales be told as well, to allow the principles they have died for spread across Bohavia and continue to provide hope to those they vowed to protect. They will be missed by those they have served, and even more by those they have left behind."

Winnacer steps forward, lightly touching each of the bodies, taking in their countenance one last time, speaking soft prayers under his breath. He then takes the clay tablet that he worked upon the previous night and hands it to Yaz.

The druid takes hold of the tablet and starts to utter an incantation, continuing to chant for a period of a minute. He then slaps the soft clay against the largest of the stones surrounding the grave and the others all watch as the rock morphs into the same shape as the clay, complete with the engraving that Winnacer spent a couple of hours working on the previous evening. As the stone starts to morph, Winnacer, Will and the Padre start to push it over, and the flat stone covering crashes down on top of the open grave, sealing it securely.

They all stand looking at the finished tomb for a long moment, oblivious to the heavy rain pouring down upon them as each pays his or her last respects to the deceased while dawn breaks over the horizon.

At this point Yaz raises his hands to the rain, eyes closed:

"My Lady Prirodna hear me," he calls out to the sky and the forest around them. "Mark this ground as Your own, Lady, as a holy place, a place for those who, though they did not suffer in Your name, suffered for Your benefit and the benefit of Your children. Each You created from the dust of the earth and the spirits of former livings, and each You endowed with a nature and a purpose. These, here, fulfilled their purposes surpassing well, and therefore I petition You, after their time of rest, to take them to Yourself and create for them new lives in higher forms - give them glorious new bodies; new life from death."

"I hereby consecrate this ground in the name of Prirodna, by which does it admit the spirits of my four friends: Bennett, Gronk, Jihan, and Xavier. May Prirodna bless them and keep them; may She make Her face smile upon them, and give them peace."

With that, Yaz moves his hands and arms in mystical circles; then, holy cannabis in hand, drops them to listen. No change is heard -- only the steady delicate roar of hard rain on leaves and rock. Yaz crouches and lays his palms flat upon the earth as if seeking a pulse, then with eyes closed, waits.

After a minute, he rises:

"It isn't done in winter, usually," he says, back to his normal tone of voice. "The winter death is part of the Cycle and can't be changed. But Prirodna heard us, and She'll keep this place sacred until their spirits are ready to go."

He pauses:

"I asked for them to become trees in their next lives, and that they would live a long time in that most-high and rewarding form."

All are quiet once again as they each make their last finals prayers to those who have departed.

"Come," says Winnacer finally, as he looks over his shoulder back at the temple complex on the island, "the sooner that we get to Olmutz, the sooner the refugees can be healed."

They all agree, wanting now to be away from the temple with all of its bad memories as soon as possible. Faewen'il immediately clambers inside the back of the wagon, having no desire to ride in the pouring rain. She finds some space in the back of the wagon that is more than half full of chests, books and other items. She then pulls out her spellbooks and proceeds to start copying spells from one book to another, not stopping the process except to eat and sleep throughout the entire journey. Oldrich and Will also find some space in the back of the wagon, much to Faewen'il's annoyance. Will spends a long time playing with Min, having had to neglect the little dog over the past few days. Milan and Tadeus haul themselves up onto the footplate of the wagon, taking turns to drive it while the other rests.

Winnacer and the Padre mount their steeds and take the point position, riding a short distance ahead of the wagon. Aneira takes up the rearguard position, trailing the others, quite content in her solitude.

Before the party moves off, Yaz heads back to the river and says his goodbyes to the two giant mosquitoes, Schlurp and Slaver. He can see that the two giant insects are very happy skittering over the surface of the still dark waters of the putrid river and so decides to leave them there. He then checks that all of the horses are happy being tied to the rear of the wagon and then mounts his own steed. As the party starts to make off, Yaz leads his horse off the pathway, preferring to travel alone through the forest to either side of the path so as to feel closer to Prirodna's realm.

And so the party starts off on their four-day journey to the Holy City of Olmutz.

As they start up the four-mile trail that leads to the main Brunn-Trebova road, the rain continues to get heavier and heavier, until it is drenching those not under the cover of the wagon to the skin. The temperature is just a couple of degrees above freezing and so it is very cold rain as well. Worse than the discomfort it brings, however, is the fact that the heavy rain is turning the dirt track into a quagmire and progress is painfully slow. After a mile, they stop and harness Barbarossa and Maire to the wagon in addition to the two carthorses so as to give the wagon a little more power. This certainly improves the speed of the wagon, but progress is still quite a bit slower than would be the case were the ground firm.

Winnacer shakes his head as he mutters to the Padre:

"It always seems to rain whenever we are on the move. We'll have to increase the amount of time that we spend on the road each day if we are to reach Olmutz by Tuesday night."

The journey continues, but by noon, they have only just about reached the main road. They stop briefly in order for Tadeus to boil up some hot broth to warm them for the rest of the day and then climb back into the saddle in order to carry on with their journey.

As they come to the main road, they see that there are no travelers in either direction, hardly surprising considering the weather and the time of year.

"We've got a choice o' direction that we can be takin' now t'reach Olmutz now," the Padre says as they see the road before them. "We can take th' road south t'Brunn an' then carry on t'Olmutz by followin' th' road northeast. T'other way is t' go cross-country. It be a much shorter route, but it's likely t'be heavy goin' if th' weather stays like this th' whole way."

Aneira speaks up:

"I would rather go cross-country, if no one objects strongly. We shall pass through my home village on the way and I would very much like to see it again."

"Suits me too," adds Yaz. "You civs will get your time in the city. I need to spend a bit of time out here in Prirodna's realm after those days in the temple."

Milan turns the wagon to the north and they carry on up the road looking for a break in the forest to the east. Progress along the road is much faster than on the mud track, but none of the others object to Aneira and Yaz' wishes to keep to the countryside. After a mile, they see an opening in the forest to the east. It seems to be little more than a track made by deer and boars, but it is just wide enough to get the wagon through. Unsure as to whether they will be able to find a better alternative, they decide to take it and so head off into the forest.

Progress along the track is just as slow as it was along the mud track and so it is impossible to move at anything faster than a walking pace. After a couple of hours, they can see that the forest is starting to thin out and they can see the low range of hills that the Padre informs them are called the Drahanska hills rising to the south east. They carry on for another mile and see that the forest is petering out now and that they are starting to rise up the slope of the hill. With the memory of the problems that they had in getting the wagon up the ridge of hills around Trebova,they alter course to the north, keeping to the edge of the forest much to Yaz' delight.

They carry on riding through the pounding rain through the afternoon until it starts to get dark around 4.30. Still having not made sufficient progress during the day, they are forced to carry on as the light fades around them. As the sun finally sets, the temperature starts to fall rapidly and the rain turns into sleet, which is even more unpleasant than the rain and makes the ground slippery as they try and continue. They carry on for three more hours until they see that the forest to their left is now about to finish.

"I think that this is far enough for today," says Winnacer finally, shivering from the cold. "Let us make camp on the edge of the forest where the trees can provide us with shelter against the elements."

By now, everyone is feeling well and truly saddle sore and so don't need to be asked twice. Everyone pitches in to help the squires get the camp erected, apart from Faewen'il, who casts a spell and produces a spherical, opaque wall of force which she then enters. She spends the rest of the evening continuing to pore over her books. With the rest of the party's assistance, the squires finish erecting the tents and start work on preparing supper for them all. They eat the meal in silence, as still no one is in the mood for conversation after the events of the past few days.

Yaz stuffs his pipe and lights up:

"F***." he says slowly from the back of his throat, smoke curling out of his mouth. "D'you guys know I haven't had a good solid non-religious toke-up in over 3 days?? Shit, if I don't start inhaling more, I'm gonna lose my job!"

Yaz passes the pipe to Tadeus absently, eyes half-closed, an indulgent grin on his face.

Tadeus furtively looks around, looking towards Milan, then Winnacer and finally Kokal. Nervously, he reaches out and takes the pipe from the druid and takes a toke on it. Tadeus is silent for a moment and then the others see his face go white, before it turns red, finally ending up turning a pale green color. Tadeus then has a coughing fit and runs from the camp to hide behind the nearest tree, from where the others can hear him puking his guts out.

It is obvious that Kokal is far from amused at this display. He folds his arms, shakes his head and then starts to lecture Yaz:

"I s'pose ye thin's that's clever don't ye?" he starts sternly. "Poor Xavier ain't been dead for much more than a day an' already ye teachin' 'is squire ye wicked, evil ways. I can see that I'm goin' t' 'ave t' take th' lad under m' wing t' protect 'im from th' likes o' ye."

The sleet has now changed to snow, which is falling heavily now and it is obvious that it will cover the ground in the morning. Despite the fact that everyone keeps close to the fire, it is still cold and so a watch rota is quickly arranged and then everyone takes to their tents.

 

10 DECEMBER 3460

It is still dark when Tadeus awakens them all from their slumber and they crawl out of their tents in order to eat the porridge that he has prepared for them while they were on watch. The snowfall has lessened during the night, but has left in its wake a covering of snow more than a couple of inches thick.

Winnacer shakes his head once more as he sees the terrain:

"I can see that we are going to have to journey for more than twelve hours per day in order to keep time, as the ground is most definitely going to slow us down."

Aneira, on the other hand, seems to be delighted, and immediately heads off a distance from the others in order to make her devotion to Zima. Yaz also doesn't seem to mind, heading into the woods to make devotions of his own. The Padre, however, prefers to keep close to the fire in the center of the camp in order to make his blessings to Radegast. While the clerics are praying to their gods, Will, Winnacer and the squires strike camp so as to head off as soon as the clerics have finished.

All then takes their places once more and Milan flicks the reins and the wagon lurches off to start the second day of the journey. As the sun comes up, they can see that the forest is behind them now and the ground is undulating lowlands, with small woods dotted around the landscape. As they journey through the morning, they start to cross a number of small streams running down from the Dranskas, the wheels of the heavy wagon cracking the ice that has formed at the streams' edges before it splashes through.

Those that are observing Aneira can see that she appears to be more troubled and moody than usual. From time to time, she leaves her rearguard position and gives directions to Milan, showing him how to avoid the worst contours of the hills and to keep to the path that is now completely covered by the snow. Throughout their journey, they see no sign of human life or settlement whatsoever, as this area seems to have remained part of Prirodna's demesne.

As the sun gets high in the sky, the snowfall starts to slow still further. At noon, Winnacer raises his hand to bring the wagon to a halt for a lunchbreak, but Aneira stops him:

"Let's carry on a little further," she says. "There is shelter ahead which would be a better place for you to get out of the snow than here."

Winnacer nods in agreement and the procession moves on. Aneira does not return to her rearguard position, but spurs her horse on, seemingly anxious to increase the pace. Winnacer and the Padre hold their position a few yards ahead of the wagon, watching Aneira's back as she gets further and further ahead.

After a couple more hours, they can see the outline of a village ahead of them, but Aneira has disappeared over the horizon and so they cannot see her. They continue on to the village, hoping to meet up with her here.

As they enter the outskirts of the small village, the first thing that strikes them is the silence, as not a bird seems to sing in the area. They then notice that the majority of the small thatched cottages in the village are burned out and roofless, with the white plaster blackened and crumbling. They continue on into the center of the village and Milan reins the horses to a halt in what appears to be the village green. Close to where they stop, they can see that there is a large patch of disturbed earth, the ripples in it indicating that it is a series of shallow graves. Opposite them, they can see that there is a small chapel, not much larger than a shrine. As is the case with the other buildings, the chapel appears to have been burned out and it is roofless. The windows of the chapel are in the form of snowflakes, although most of the glass is broken. From inside the chapel, they can just about hear the sound of crying being carried towards them by the wind.

They move away from the chapel and find a cottage that still has most of its roof left. The squires build a fire in the hearth and warm up some more piping hot broth for them all. Not wanting to lose any more time, they quickly finish up the meal and head back for the wagon. Here they find Aneira waiting for them, sat upon her horse and looking even paler than ever:

"I'd like to leave now," she says weakly and turns her horse and starts to head from the village. The squires return to the wagon and mount up and the procession starts off heading eastwards once more. The others soon catch up with Aneira, who returns to the rearguard position after a while.

They carry on riding eastwards throughout the afternoon, with the wagon and horses plowing through the snow-covered ground as the snow slows until just a few flakes are falling. As the light starts to fade, they see that there are more woods ahead of them in a gap between the Drahanskas to the south and another range of low hills to the north. At the crest of the northern range of hills, they can just make out, several miles in the distance, the faint outline of a castle.

"Castle Bouzov, tha' be," Kokal explains as he sees the others peering through the snow at it. "Used t' b'long to Earl Yost, one o' the nephews o'Great King Karel."

"An uncle of Yiri of Podyebrad," Will adds. "In fact, I think Yiri might have been born there."

"I s'pose there be some Nyemetz scum up there now," Kokal continues.

They carry on their journey as the light finally dies, but press on towards the woods, not wanting to spend the cold night out in the open. Just after 8.00, they reach the edge of the woods at the same time that the snow finally stops falling. Once again, they set up camp while Faewen'il takes care of her own shelter. All are tired after another long day in the saddle and so, after another hot supper, they retire to their tents once again.

 

11 DECEMBER 3460

Once again, an early start is required in order for them to keep to their schedule and they set off just before dawn breaks after the clerics have returned from their worships. As the darkness clears, they see that it is a clear day, but another cold one. They spend the morning traveling through the woods, continuing to follow narrow paths made by animal tracks and crossing over more streams. The snows ahead of them is still fresh and they can tell that no one has been through here recently.

It takes them all morning to traverse the woods, which finally thin, revealing more undulating, forgotten plains on the opposite side. Just before leaving the woods, they stop for a light warm lunch before continuing to travel through the afternoon, heading due east, traveling north of another range of hills known as the Vurkovinas.

They have now been traveling for nearly three days and the quietness of the area is starting to get to them and they start counting the hours before they should arrive in Olmutz. Fighting the aches in their bodies caused by being so long in the saddle, they continue riding through the afternoon and into the evening, before their bodies tell them that they cannot ride on any longer.

Just after 8.00, they find a small expanse of woods close to a stream and pitch camp for what they hope will be the last time for a while. As they sit around the campfire eating their supper, Kokal sees their long faces and cold bodies and attempts to liven things up a little:

"Cheer up a little all o' ye," the Padre says, sipping from his mug of herbal tea. "This time on th' morrow we'll nearly be in Olmutz, on o' the greatest cities in Bohavia, p'raps the greatest o' them all, save for Mnyesto itself."

"I was naught but a lad the las' time I saw Olmutz, but I could never forget it. One o' the finest cities in the 'ole o' th' realm it be. Olmutz stands on the banks o' the River Morava, on a trade route tha' links the Great Central Sea o' the South t' th' inner Frozen Sea o' the north. Some folks calls it th' Amber Road. For a while, it were th' capital o' Bohavia, before it were known as Bohavia tha' is, an' before Mnyesto took over as th' seat o' th' land."

"It still be a rich city tho' despite it's playin' second fiddle t' Mnyesto these days. Tha' be one city tha' th' Nyemetz ain't gonna leave wit'ou' a good fight. But tha' ain't what makes it so special, it be th' fact tha' it be the 'Oly City o' Bohavia what makes it so special, attractin' pilgrims from all o' Bohavia an' beyond 'til the roads o' Bohavia weren't safe t' travel no more."

"Ev'ry legal Church in Bohavia is represented there, an' th' city 'as grown up around its religious nature. Makes things easy t' find, it does, 'cuz all th' trades associated wit' each o' th' faiths be 'round th' churches. All th' weaponsmiths an' armorers be around th' Cathedral o' Radegast f'r example, th' courts o' justice an' city guard base 'round by th' Cathedral o' Spravedelna, an' th' marketplace an' money changers 'round by th' Temple o' Obkod."

"Aye," Kokal finishes with another sip, "Olmutz be a grand city, an' I can't be waitin' t'get there."

Yaz doesn't appear to be terribly impressed with Kokal's description:

"I don't suppose that Prirodna's Church has a presence there?" Yaz supposes. "I can't see Prirodna having a holy place in the middle of a city."

"Ye'd be wrong t' thin' tha'," Kokal corrects him. "Jus' inside the city wall, there's a big area o' parkland tha' serves as Prirodna's parish inside t'city. T' most beautiful gardens in all o' Bohavia some say. In the middle o' the park ye'll find th' stone circle o' Prirodna, and th' druids be 'avin' some buildin's around it."

"O' course, it ain't the center o' Prirodna's faith in th' land. Ev'ryone knows tha' th' Arch-Druid o' Bohavia resides just outside th' elven 'oly city o' Tabor. Still, 'twill give ye a chance t' meet wit' a Druid if ye be so inclined."

"P'raps," Yaz replies. "I can't think of much else to do in the city other than finding out what my stuff is."

He fiddles with his bracers and scimitar to see if he can determine any identifying marks upon them.

Winnacer nods over to Oldrich, who is talking with Milan:

"Perhaps he could be able to shed some light onto the matter. It will save the Priests of Kitry some time if he knows what they are."

"Worth a try," Yaz replies. "It's about time that he did something useful for his keep in any case."

He advances upon Oldrich and thrusts his scimitar in his direction:

"Hey, Olda, y'know what this is?"

The bard looks up:

"It's a scimitar," he replies.

"I know that," Yaz replies with a little annoyance. "I'm not stupid. I was wondering whether you could tell me anything else about it."

Oldrich gives a little shrug:

"It's foreign, that's all I can tell. I don't know any foreign stories, so I can't help you. I'm sorry."

"What about these?" Yaz asks, rattling his bracers.

"Nope," Oldrich says, "don't know anything about those either."

Yaz leaves the bard, shaking his head as he does so:

"A great lot of help you've been."

Will has more patience with his mentor, however, and pulls out the objects that they took from the temple. Will shows Oldrich the armor from the priests, but he doesn't recognize anything. Will then shows Oldrich the flail that was retrieved from the high priest. Oldrich's eyebrows rise at the sight of the weapon and he carefully picks it up in order to get a closer look at it. After a couple of minutes, he drops it in the snow, as if it were a snake:

"Yes, I know what that is. It's called Painwracker and it belonged to a Nemotz Priest by the name of Pavel Lipavsky. The story dates back to the year of the last Great Plague of 3346."

"Even though the legend goes that FaithHealer Yan Vrabel stopped the spread of any more plague after sacrificing his life on the River Svratka in Brunn, there were still many more cells of the Nemotz still operating in Bohavia. Another FaithHealer, an elf by the name of Thanfloriel discovered a Nemotz cell operating in Pilzen. FaithHealer Thanfloriel and a team of Lechit priests raided the underground temple of the cell, but there were more of the Nemotz followers than the FaithHealer had anticipated. Thanfloriel dueled with Pavel Lipavsky while the priests fought with those of the opposition. The Nemotz began to get the upper hand in the battle, and Lipavsky was forced to free with his surviving priests or else the whole of the Pilzen Church of Lechit would have been destroyed in the battle."

"It didn't help poor FaithHealer Thanfloriel, however. During the combat, he had been hit several times by Priest Lipavsky wielding this flail. After a few days, he began to contract a terrible disease, from which he was never able to recover. As for what happened to Pavel Lipavsky, the story does not tell."

Oldrich looks down at the weapon:

"Be careful if you plan on keeping that weapon. It is most certainly cursed."

Will nods and shows Oldrich the other items from the secret room that he was unable to identify himself. Will simply shakes his head in response to each of them, however.

From her pouch, Faewen'il takes the ring that she took off the finger of the dead high priest. She hands it to the master bard. He takes it and looks at the three smiling faces engraved into the silver ring. He looks at it and then starts to grin:

"Yes, I know this item. It's referred to in the comedic story of Umberto the Unpopular of Uherske Brod. Like most of the Master Mages in the land, Umberto was incredibly arrogant and bad-tempered. As a result, it's hardly surprising that he was incredibly unpopular, despite the fact that he thought he was a highly amusing and entertaining fellow. Umberto was quite a socialite and loved to go out on the town of an evening, telling people how wonderful and clever he was. Because of the fact that he was an arrogant and utterly boring old windbag, whenever he entered a tavern, everyone who knew of him quickly finished their drinks and left to go to another place. This annoyed Umberto immensely and so he spent many a month creating this ring."

"When the ring is activated by rubbing on the faces, it makes people act as if they are the best friends of the person wearing it. The day that he finished making it, Umberto headed for his local hostelry. As usual, everyone started to finish off their drinks and head for the door. Umberto rubbed the ring and several of the drinkers started to act as if Umberto was the most entertaining man in town. They would gather around him, offering to buy him drinks and then would spend all evening rolling on the floor in hysterics as Umberto spent the whole evening telling them one tedious story after another, begging him to carry on at the end of the night. Umberto used to use the ring every night of his life after then. The bastard."

Oldrich hands the ring back to Faewen'il:

"Quite how a scummy Nemotz priest managed to get hold of it, though, I have no idea."

The ramblings of Kokal and Oldrich make the others even more tired than they were before and so, shortly afterwards, the night's watch rota is arranged once again, and all spend one final night in the tents.

 

12 DECEMBER 3460

It takes a great effort for everyone to get out of their blankets and tents to get back in the saddle for another day of traveling, but Kokal is soon up and about and badgering everyone to get a move on. Once again, the clerics see to their morning devotions and the procession moves on into the dark morning.

It is bitterly cold that morning and all save for Aneira start dreaming of spending the night in a nice warm inn as the horses continue to trudge through the virgin snows. They round the northeastern slopes of the Vurkovinas and then carry on eastwards down a gentle slope.

Late in the morning, they finally see the welcoming sight of the Olmutz-Hradetz road a mile in front of them, with the River Morava just beyond it, which spurs them on to finish their trip. Just before joining the road, they stop for a last lunch on the road, and then join the road before following the road southeastwards, heading straight for Olmutz. They can see from the fact that the snow covering the road is churned up that this is a fairly busy road by Bohavian standards and they start to come across a little traffic, mainly merchants and pilgrims, as they continue on their journey.

The wagon makes good progress along the road as they travel throughout the afternoon, and they start to see the first signs of civilization as they pass occasional roadside inns and small villages alongside the road. The terrain is completely flat now, and they can see many farmhouses and cultivated fields as they continue onwards.

"They call this area Hana," the Padre explains. "It be one o' the most fertile parts of th' country."

As the light fades, they still have another four hours or so to travel, but the knowledge that they are now so close serves to spur them onwards, as they know that, if they are not at the gates of the city before 11.00, then they will be locked and they will be forced to spend another night out in the bitter cold.

It is just after 9.00 when they finally see Olmutz ahead of them, lit by the glowing lanterns of the city and the light of the nearly full moon. Even from this far distance, they can see that Kokal was not exaggerating when he described the wonders of the city, as they can see hundreds of gilded spires pointing up towards the clear sky.

It takes them another hour to travel the last mile of the long journey, bringing them before the gates as the many clocks in the city strike the hour of ten. Winnacer brings the procession to a halt and then dismounts and walks over to the wagon. He opens up the canvas at the rear and peers inside. Faewen'il ignores him as he does so, finishing off another page of her spellbook.

Winnacer drops the canvas cover and walks round to the front:

"The gate guards are going to think that St Vatzlav's Day has come a couple of weeks early if they take a look in the back of this wagon," he says, taking another look at the gun, the boxes of coin and other valuables, the stack of books that Will was able to rescue plus other sundry items, the discovery of which would be the subject of a Witchfinder's wet dream.

He looks over at Faewen'il, Yaz, Aneira and Kokal in turn:

"Would one of you be kind enough to see to it that our entry into the city does not arouse anyone's attention?"

"Um," says Yaz a little self-consciously, "I'm gonna go to the temple of Lechit and get them to meet us here. Where's that sword the FaithHealer used? Gimme it -- It'll be proof."

Winnacer thinks about this:

"Perhaps that would be best, to give them the blade and ask them to send some representatives to meet with us at our inn early in the morning. They won't be able to assemble a relief team in time to leave before curfew anyway but, with warning, they could be ready to leave first thing."

"It may be best to charm the guards and bring our belongings to the Temple of Spravedelna. I believe that they would watch our things overnight as a favor, and I want them to organize some priests to accompany the Priests of Lechit."

Yaz nods his agreement:

"Yeah, we can't risk getting all our shit stolen at an inn. I agree that we park this thing in the Temple out of sight 'til morning. That way at least no one will see us carting around chests full of gold and magic up to our rooms."

"From there," Winnacer continues, "we should check in at an inn that my family used to frequent when we would visit the city, 'The Pen & Parchment'. I have a sister who is a priestess here and we used to stay over when we visited her. Lovely place that should be ameniable to our needs. By the morning, we should have an expeditionary force ready to relieve those we left behind."

"Let's just worry about getting the ball rolling here rather than staying out after curfew tonight. A night without trouble would do us all well."

Will picks up his harp:

"I can attempt to get our way through by charm and good conversation."

Yaz takes the sword, then climbs into the back of the wagon out of sight of the guards. Within a minute, a gray pigeon with a curious orange tuft of head-feathers flutters out and wings casually over the wall and out of sight.

Faewen'il simply waits for the others to see if Will is able to get them past the gates before resorting to changing into her Witchfinder's garb. She was not going to risk her disguise if she didn't have to... and besides, they could all huff most of the junk in on their backs with an invisibility spell if need be.

Will takes his harp and drops down from the back of the wagon and unties his horse from the rear. He mounts the horse and then casually motions the horse forwards in the direction of the gate. As he gets closer to the gate, he starts to strum a merry tune upon the harp, acting as if he were simply entertaining himself and Min, who runs beneath the hooves of the horse, at the end of a long and dull journey.

The gate guards, consisting of a company of orc spearmen, look at Will curiously as he approaches and the sargeant starts to walk forward in order to stop the bard. As the sargeant raises his hand for Will to stop, the bard finishes his song with a powerful chord and the sargeant looks at him with a rather glazed expression:

"Cold out tonight, isn't it, officer?" Will asks the sargeant, smiling at him politely.

"Yuh," grunts the sargeant in agreement.

"How much more pleasant it would be were you and your troops inside the tower rather than out here in the freezing cold?" Will continues.

The sargeant nods in agreement.

Will draws closer to the sargeant and whispers into his ear:

"Why don't you and your troops head off, then? If anyone comes through the gate, then I'll come and get you."

The sargeant grins, exposing his mouthful of yellowing teeth and then barks an order to the company around him. They all march off to the tower, leaving the gate open and empty. Will gestures to the others, who have been observing the actions of the bard from a distance, and the wagon moves onwards entering the city. Will keeps an eye upon the tower, but there is no sign of the guards. As the wagon comes through the gate, Will flicks the reins and follows the wagon into the city streets, soon leaving the gate behind them.