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Back to the previous chapter: Cities
First Draft
Bilbus strode proudly back into the church. Some of his companions had taken seats on the benches. Adria still stood, tapping one foot silently. She glanced at Bilbus and nearly choked.
Rishala looked at the mountebank. "Breanna," he blurted. "How about doing red hair?"
Breanna was standing near Eric, watching him worriedly. "Why?" she asked as she looked up. "Oh."
Bilbus's hair was a mess. There was a streak from front to back on one side that was a bleached blond, almost white. The hair on the other side was a jumbled patchwork of lighter and darker spots. His goatee was likewise patchy, and his chin was pinkish from bleach burn.
Sturm looked at the mountebank's hair. "Bilbus? Did the Mother of the Orphanage punish you?"
Eric kept still. He was somewhere unfamiliar. On the surface, the place appeared to be a church. Familiar people were here, as were familiar voices, but they were strangely somber. Something was amiss.
Another familiar voice. Bilbus was talking, protesting that his hair was natural. Slowly, carefully, so as to avoid drawing attention, Eric turned his head to look at Bilbus. His companion -- Eric was not completely sure he was a friend -- was arguing with Breanna. But there was something clearly wrong with Bilbus. His hair was an impossible mottling of its normal color and a pale blond. Yet Bilbus insisted there was nothing amiss.
I need a weapon, Eric decided. No one else had realized that something had possessed Bilbus.
Still moving slowly, Eric looked at his surroundings. His bow was not in sight. Maybe the demon that had possessed Bilbus knew Eric would see past his attempts at disguise. Eric kept turning his head slowly. Adria stood nearly three paces away, watching Bilbus and Breanna with an expression of amusement. I may not have my bow, but I have Adria's.
No one was paying him any heed. Now was the time to strike.
With the swift, fluid movement of a practiced warrior, Eric lunged towards Adria. To distract and surprise his enemy, he shouted, "Oh my gods! They got into Bilbus!"
In that slow motion of hasty action, Adria turned towards Eric. With reactions faster than his, she kicked. Her boot struck Eric solidly in the abdomen, stopping his outstretched arms just short of her bow.
"Are you all right?" Adria's distant voice asked.
I must not fail my friends.
Eric turned towards the demonic Bilbus and charged. The possessed Bilbus raised his arms defensively, but Eric would not risk touching the beast. He drew the two sai he carried tucked into his swordbelt. The weapons were excellent defensive tools consisting of a bar of metal as long as a dagger with a pair of curved bars. It was very similar to some of the Kelltic parrying daggers, but the sai originated in Karasimi. And Eric had sharpened the center post of his sai, making them lethal stabbing weapons.
Eric ran towards Bilbus, leveling one of the sai towards Bilbus's heart. "I must get it out! Hold still while I kill you!"
In his periphery, Eric saw Breanna reach for him. She must not stop me, the explorer decided resolutely. With a sidestep, Eric avoided her restraint. In an instant, Eric's sai struck Bilbus's arm. The demon saw the attack and forced Bilbus to stop the sai with an arm. But the demon was protecting Bilbus. The sai should have gone through Bilbus's forearm, but it had instead merely punched a small hole in the metal vambrace that covered Bilbus's arm.
There was an explosion of stars in Eric's periphery, and a sudden pain on the back of his head. The world went dark as the ground rushed upwards.
Adria stood over Eric, scowling. She held the remains of her prized longbow with both hands, like a club. Eric had tried to take it from her, then tried to kill her husband. Adria had to stop him somehow, and killing him seemed inappropriate. Frustrated, Adria kicked the unconscious explorer. Twice.
"Adria!" Breanna yelled in alarm.
"He broke my bow!" Adria shouted back at her. Then, she kicked Eric again for good measure.
"Stop kicking him!" Breanna said as she kneeled next to her fiance.
"What is the matter with him?" Adria asked as she picked up the other piece of her destroyed bow.
"It must be the wound in his mind," Breanna speculated.
Bilbus straightened his armored jacket. "Whatever it is, you better disarm him. He will have a harder time killing me if he doesn't have those funny daggers, or his sword."
Breanna removed Eric's sword belt and slid it several paces away. She then reached into Eric's right boot and withdrew a small knife. She loosened his jacket and pulled a concealed dagger from its scabbard inside the jacket. After removing a couple of obvious daggers, as well, Breanna stood.
"Don't you think he needs to be tied up?" Bilbus asked. He took a couple of steps away from the unconscious body.
Kasey stepped forward and bound Eric's wrists with a thin rope that the knight carried. When he finished, Eric's hands were turning red.
"That's too tight, Kasey," Breanna admonished. She loosened the bonds until Eric's hands were changing back to their normal color.
"Well," Bilbus said. "Now that that's over, maybe we should go check those docks, right, Rishala?"
"Aye, but maybe you should let Breanna fix your hair."
"Why? Just because Eric doesn't like me as a blond..."
Breanna produced a small mirror. She offered it to Bilbus, who took it with a smug grin. The grin evaporated when he used the mirror to inspect his hair.
"I take it you dinna use a mirror, aye?" Rishala laughed.
Bilbus scowled at his friend as he returned the mirror to Breanna. "Perhaps we should find an inn." He glanced down at Eric. "One with nice beds. We can tie Eric to one."
Adria chuckled. "Bree would have fun with that." She looked at the confused expression on Breanna's face. "No, probably not."
The priest cleared his throat.
Breanna looked aghast. "I am so sorry, Father! We will get Eric out of here. We can still bring him back tomorrow for more healing?"
The priest nodded.
The knights collected Eric and carried him from the church. The rest of the party followed. The knights deposited Eric on his horse.
Bilbus led his friends through town, picking various inns before dismissing them with a running commentary on how readily thieves would break into them. He finally settled on the Twin Spruce Inn, near the south end of the city. The mountebank tied his horse to a post outside the inn and went inside.
"We need rooms," Bilbus announced to the innkeeper.
"Of course, milord. How many?"
Bilbus turned back to his companions, who had just entered the common room. "One. Two. Knights together, three. Four."
Sturm shook his head.
"Okay, separate rooms for the knights." He turned back to the innkeeper. "Five rooms."
"Yes, milord." The innkeeper lowered his voice. "Are you from the Kingdom of the Five Crowns? Up north?"
Bilbus replied in a thick Brythokelltic accent, matching the innkeeper's. "Do I sound like I'm from the Five Crowns?"
"No," the innkeeper admitted. "But what about their accents?"
Bilbus's companions were talking amongst themselves.
"Oh. They're from Londoun."
The innkeeper raised his voice. "Is it true that orcs sacked Londoun?"
Kasey turned to the innkeeper in alarm. "Orcs sacked Londoun?"
"They did?" The innkeeper put his hand through his hair. "I thought they were just rumors. I can't believe they burned Londoun."
"Orcs burned Londoun?" Kasey was clearly agitated.
Bilbus stepped in front of the knight. "No. They did not."
"Aye," Rishala agreed. "We were just there, remember?" Even if that were a couple of weeks ago.
"Oh, yeah." Kasey relaxed immediately.
Bilbus turned back to the innkeeper. "Anyway, we need five rooms."
The party met in Breanna and Eric's room. Eric had been tied into the bedcovers, leaving just his head free. Kasey had left a few minutes earlier on an errand.
Breanna looked at Bilbus's horribly done hair bleaching, then turned to Adria. "I can use alchemy to change his hair color. It will be temporary, and it will go back to looking like that." Breanna pointed a thumb at Bilbus. "Or, I can use dyes and change his hair color the normal way. It will be permanent."
"Permanent," Adria decided without hesitation.
"Hey! What about me?" Bilbus asked.
Adria looked at him and said nothing.
Kasey returned. "Oh, I found someone who works here who can come check in on Eric from time to time, so we don't have to be here all the time."
"Great, Kase," Bilbus said. "Hey, can you escort Adria to a bowyer. She wants to replace her bow."
"Stupid Eric," Adria mumbled half-heartedly.
"Okay," Kasey agreed.
"I also want to get a staff," Adria said. "One with metal banding and caps. Next time he goes for my bow, I won't have to use it to stop him..."
"M'Lady?" Kasey offered an arm. Adria took it and let the knight escort her out of the room.
Breanna rummaged through her saddle bags. "I think I have some things I can use for dyes. Where do you want to do this?"
Bilbus glanced at Eric. "How about my room?"
"Okay." Breanna followed him to his room.
"I'll be back later," Sturm announced.
Rishala glanced at Eric, then decided to go down to the common room.
Adria had little trouble finding a good bowyer. The prices on his bows were commensurate with their quality, and Adria did not carry that much coin for any reason. She returned to the inn just as Breanna was finishing dying Bilbus's hair.
"I found a bow," she said simply.
"Good," Bilbus said. "Where is it?"
"I need some coin."
Bilbus groaned. "How much?"
"He said two Harps and eight Crowns."
Bilbus groaned again. Two gold coins and eight silver. More than a lot of commoners earned in a month. He sat up and emptied one of his coin purses. Not enough. The mountebank carefully tore the stitching on the inside of his armored jacket. Sewn into the liner on the inside were a number of gems that Bilbus kept for emergencies. He pulled a number of them out, eyed them, then gave them to Adria along with the coins from his purse.
"Thank you," Adria said cheerfully. She left the inn once more.
Breanna looked at Bilbus. "Sit still for a while. I want to check in on Eric."
He's trapped me, Eric realized. Bound like a goose waiting for the oven.
He struggled with his bonds. They were good, but he had studied escape techniques. And his meditations had helped with his flexibility, as well.
I am patient, like the hummingbird waiting to strike. A little bit more to the left, and... Eric's hands were free. There.
Quietly, so as not to alert the demon-Bilbus, Eric slipped out from the bedcovers. He stepped lightly towards the door and certain escape.
The door latch rattled. Someone was unlocking the door. Eric froze in mid-pace, ready to strike or run in an instant. The door swung open.
Breanna stood in the doorway, surprised. "Hi, Eric. How are you?"
I must keep her at ease. "I'm..." Casual answer! "...fine, Bree."
Breanna looked at him suspiciously. Perhaps this was the demon manifesting in another form?
"What are you doing up?" Breanna asked.
"I... need..." He glanced about. "To use the chamber pot."
"Okay..." Breanna was uncertain. "It is there, behind the screen." Breanna pointed towards a privacy screen near the window.
Of course, Eric thought. The window.
Eric stepped behind the privacy screen, then shuffled it a couple of feet closer to the window.
"Eric? Are you sure you're okay?"
She knew. No sense trying to sneak out. Eric shoved the privacy screen towards Breanna and threw open the window. The rooftop was just inches above the top of the window. Eric grabbed the edge of the rooftop and swung out the window. He heard Breanna screaming as he pulled himself up to the roof.
The roof was mildly sloped, far less than many of the larger buildings in town. The roof was tiled with some sort of fired clay shingle, curved slightly, that was in one of several bright colors. They were smooth, but Eric still had footing. He danced along to the next window and dropped down. Kasey's belongings were inside. Hanging from one hand, Eric found that the window was not latched. It opened readily, and Eric swung in as Breanna stuck her head out of her window.
The door to Kasey's room flew open. Bilbus -- now with red hair -- stood in the doorway. Eric swung back out the window and onto the roof. Bilbus would not take him. Two rooms down, Eric dropped back down and in. He ran across to the door and flung it open. He ran to the door across the hall and darted in, ignoring shouts from Bilbus from one direction and Rishala from the other. Out the window -- this one facing the road in front of the inn -- and onto the roof once more. Eric crouched over the window, freezing in place.
Rishala poked his head out from a different window, seeing nothing. Then Bilbus's head jutted from the window Eric had just climbed out. Eric readied to strike the possessed man when he realized that Rishala was shouting a warning. The story teller had spotted him after all.
Eric scrambled away from the window, once again up and over the peak of the roof to the back of the inn. Bilbus had climbed onto the roof to pursue, slipping on the smooth shingles. His boots could not grip the colorful tiles as easily as Eric's bare feet.
Eric spotted a loose clay shingle nearby. He scooped it up and pitched it back at Bilbus, not looking to see if he came close. A tile struck him from behind moments later. Eric glanced back as he reached the edge of the roof, then started to swing down to a window. Something hard struck the back of his head, as if someone in the space behind the inn were helping Bilbus.
Eric stumbled and slipped off the roof, noticing in an instant that Sturm was behind the inn, holding several bottles of what must have been alcohol.
The landing was hard, but it was only two stories to fall.
Sturm held a bottle out towards Eric. "Wanna drink?"
Eric glanced towards the roof. Bilbus had secured a line to the roof, and he was climbing down quickly. He pushed Sturm's bottle away and raced away, towards the open back door of the inn. The clangs of pots told Eric that the door would lead to the inn's kitchen.
There was a thump and cursing to Eric's right. The demon-Bilbus's line had come loose, and he had fallen to the ground. Bilbus pulled the grappling hook in and threw it at Eric. Eric lifted his feet higher as he ran, stepping over the line so it could not entwine his legs.
Into the kitchen Eric ran, weaving past a cook who was working on a small kettle of stew. Eric dodged into the common room and up the stairs. Breanna was running towards him. I can't let her accidentally trap me.
Eric turned and ran back into the kitchen. Bilbus blocked the back door. Eric leaped towards the cook, who jumped out of the way. The explorer grabbed the kettle, ignoring the searing pain of the hot metal on his bare hands. Running towards Bilbus, Eric flung the kettle at the possessed man. Bilbus ducked out of the way just in time, leaving the doorway open.
Bilbus was just to the left of the door, and Sturm was walking towards it from ahead. Eric turned right and bolted towards the corner of the inn. Bilbus was in close pursuit, and Breanna was behind Bilbus. Eric turned the corner of the inn and ran towards the busy street in front of the inn.
Breanna shouted to Eric, "Save me from Bilbus!"
Eric almost hesitated. Breanna was in danger. But Eric needed help to face down the demon. To his right, at the front door of the inn, was Rishala.
Eric ran towards his Caledonian friend. "Rishala! You have got to help me to save Breanna from Bilbus!"
When Eric was about to dive through the door and back into the inn, Rishala slammed the door shut. Eric bounced off the door, looking at Rishala in utter disbelief. No. The demon has tricked Rishala, too.
Eric pulled the door open, then felt Breanna's hand on his shoulder. Darkness once more surrounded the explorer as he slowly dropped to his knees, then to the ground, fast asleep.
Bilbus stopped next to Eric. Quite a crowd had formed on the street, watching the chase over and around the Twin Spruce Inn. Bilbus bowed, then called out, "This was just a sample of the talents of the Traveling Troupe of Londoun, my good people!"
Rishala caught on to the ruse. He pulled out a folded cloth cap, quickly unfolded it, and passed it to Bilbus. Bilbus walked around the crowd, happily accepting coins as they were dropped into the hat. Once he had made a round, he dropped the coins into an empty purse and helped Rishala haul Eric back inside.
Once back in Breanna and Eric's room, Bilbus counted out the coins. "Not bad. We just made almost seventy Eiresudian Quid. Maybe we oughta let him escape more often."
Adria knocked on the open door to the room. "What was this Sturm said about Eric escaping?"
Bilbus chuckled. "He got loose and was running around on the roof until he slipped and fell off." Bilbus glanced at the rash on Eric's arm. "Aren't you gonna heal that, Bree?"
"He brought it on himself," Breanna grumbled.
Bilbus looked back at Adria with raised eyebrows. Adria shook her head slowly.
"I'm hungry," Adria proclaimed. "Let's eat." She stepped into the room. "See the staff I got? Next time he tries to take my bow..." She held out the thick wooden staff for her husband to inspect.
Kasey poked his head into the room behind Adria. "Hey, did Eric escape?"
Bilbus looked over his shoulder at the unconscious Azirian, then turned to Kasey. "Yeah. We need to tie him up better."
"I can go get some manacles." Kasey turned to leave. "Oh, Lady Adria? I will join you for dinner in the common room after I get the manacles. Wait. Maybe we should post a watch on Eric. I'll bring my dinner up here and watch him."
"I will help you watch him," Breanna offered.
"Then I will bring us both dinner." The Church Knight left.
By the time Kasey returned with manacles, Bilbus had convinced Adria to go with him to scout the docks. He had likewise co-opted Rishala into the trip as well. Sturm overheard the discussion and offered to go as well. Breanna undressed Eric, then Kasey manacled the Karasimian to the bed, using a metal bar beneath the bed frame as an anchor for the manacles. They covered Eric with the bed sheets, then Kasey and Breanna settled in to watch the unconscious man while the others went on their reconnaissance trip.
Bilbus changed into a set of Eric's noble clothing, then led his compatriots towards the docks.
On the darkening street near the inn, Adria pointed at someone on horseback. "Isn't that the priestess from Kells that Kasey likes so much?"
Bilbus looked at the woman. There was enough light spilling out of nearby businesses to see the woman at whom Adria pointed. It was Meridaun, and she had just spotted Bilbus and company. She turned her horse towards them.
"So it is," Bilbus commented.
Meridaun stopped in front of them. She sounded cheerful. "Good! I caught up with you. I was hoping you hadn't already left the city."
"Oh?" Bilbus asked guardedly.
"I was asked to accompany you to the Academy. Do you have a ship?"
"We are working on it."
"Great." She glanced around. "Where is Kasey?"
"He's guarding our ill friend. Look in room seven."
"Thank you! I'll see you tomorrow!" Meridaun rode to the inn.
Sturm staggered a little as he walked. He had an open bottle of a cheap local liquor in one hand, half empty.
"Are ye alright, Sturm?" Rishala asked as he steadied the Sun Knight.
"Jesh fine." Sturm offered a bottle to Rishala. "Here."
Rishala opened the bottle and took an experimental sip. Whatever it was Sturm was drinking, it was not good. It had a kick, though. Rishala took another sip. If I drink enough, it may be almost tolerable, Rishala thought. Do I want to drink that much of this, though?
As the four got closer to the docks, Bilbus quietly announced to his friends, "If anyone asks, I am Lord Hogain, Ezeka's aide. That was the name I used in the Carved Tusk Wineclub."
Sturm held his bottle aloft. "I am Strum the Minstrel." His voice was almost singsong, but he changed keys in mid phrase.
"What about you?" Bilbus asked Rishala.
Rishala chuckled. "Tomas de Loch."
"Right..." Bilbus looked at Adria.
"Irin," she said simply.
"Okay. We are looking for Shain o'Miere. He's the Harbor Master. If we find out where his warehouse of mercenaries are, we can take them out."
"Mercenaries?" Rishala asked. "I thought they were orcs."
"He called them the 'Wet Foot Mercenaries' in the meeting."
"What are four of us going to do with a warehouse full of mercenaries?" Adria asked.
"Burn it down!" Sturm offered.
Bilbus half-grinned at the suggestion.
The dock area of Brallian was much busier than the docks of Londoun after sunset. Workers still toiled loading and unloading ships. Others moved the crates and bags and other commodities from the docks to dozens of large, low warehouses. More people spilled out onto the streets from the innumerable public houses, taverns, and inns that filled most of the buildings beyond the warehouses.
"Keep your eyes open. My disguise should keep us safe, but this is a rough area in the best of times."
As the party approached another block of pubs, Bilbus froze in midstride.
"What?" Adria hissed as she scanned the crowds ahead of them for a threat.
"Fergal," Bilbus snarled quietly.
"Who?"
"He was the one who poisoned me. We were supposed to be on a con, and he slipped me something. He said, 'Iceknife says it's nothing personal. Just business. He doesn't want Heka users bringing the Church down on him.' Then he left me to die." Bilbus narrowed his eyes. "Iceknife may not be around any more, but Fergal still is."
Bilbus strode towards the pub. The man he spotted -- a non-descript middle-aged man -- had spotted Bilbus. The man ducked into the nearest crowded pub.
"Adria, go find him," Bilbus ordered. "I'll get in the back door and cut him off."
Rishala followed Adria to the pub while Bilbus slowed and turned towards the alley, with Sturm following him unsteadily.
Adria walked into the pub, leading Rishala into the crowd. The patrons of the pub, mostly dockworkers and sailors, leered at her as she moved past them. Numerous incidental bumps and grabs infuriated the blond assassin, but she kept her daggers sheathed. There were just a few too many of them for her to be able to take care of the problem and get out cleanly. And Rishala might end up getting pretty roughed up.
After a few minutes, Adria turned to Rishala. Speaking loudly right into his ear, she said, "I don't see him."
Rishala nodded. "Aye, me neither."
Bilbus waited in the alleyway, just far enough from the street to be encased in the darkness. The sounds of the pubs on the street were muffled slightly, but there was still enough noise that he could move without having to go too slowly. Sturm stood a few paces behind the mountebank, drinking from his bottle of swill.
A door near the back of the pub opened, and Fergal and another man slipped into the alleyway. When they glanced towards Bilbus, the thief stepped clear of the wall and stared at them.
Bilbus walked slowly forward, his fingers itching as he restrained himself from drawing his black adamantine sword and rushing them.
Fergal's accomplice brought up a long tube and pointed it at Bilbus. The man blew into the end of the tube, launching a dart at Bilbus. The mountebank slapped his hand, hoping to deflect the shot, but he missed the small dart. It did not matter. The dart slowed in the magickal protections surrounding Bilbus, and it fell to the ground harmlessly.
Fergal and his accomplice looked at one another, then ran down the alley. Bilbus immediately charged after them.
His prey raced down the alley, then turned sharply to the right down a crossing alleyway. Bilbus followed them. They were going to escape, unless...
Bilbus stopped and reached for that dark current that he always felt raging about him. He harshly shaped the currents around him, forcing the Heka into a weaving that he had not used in weeks. With a brief surge of effort, he completed the casting.
Bilbus took two fast steps forward, then leaped into the air. He was flying, just a pace off of the ground, but he was easily overtaking Fergal and Fergal's friend.
The two pursued men turned left onto a larger street that led away from the dock area. Bilbus chased after them, ignoring the dozen or so onlookers that just spotted a flying man. The shouts of alarm and panic did not even register with Bilbus as he focused on the man he was going to kill.
Fergal ran straight towards a quartet of night watch. Two of the men carried long halberds, while the other two had heavy crossbows. As Fergal maniacally shouted "Heka wielder!", the two crossbowmen raised their heavy weapons.
Bilbus veered upwards, flying above the rooftops in seconds. He could hear the mechanical rattle of the two crossbows firing, and he saw one of the bolts stop just short of his midsection. Bilbus flipped over, diving back towards the group of watchmen protecting Fergal and Fergal's accomplice.
The mountebank saw the two crossbowmen start ratcheting their bowstrings back to a firing position. They would never rearm their weapons before he struck. Bilbus reached into a belt pouch and pulled out a carefully-wrapped bundle. He concentrated on flying forwards as he unwrapped the cloth from a small box. The box opened easily, and Bilbus grabbed two of the three remaining magickal glass arrowheads within the box.
He lost his concentration as he grabbed the delicate, sharp glass, and he dropped several paces suddenly. As he fought to keep from falling to the ground, Bilbus dropped the small case with the three glass arrowheads. The arrowheads fell free of the case, close together. Bilbus smiled grimly as he watched the three delicate explosive arrowheads fall near Fergal's feet.
The concussion of the triple explosion was impressive at the least. Bilbus felt the sting of the black Heka from the explosion piercing through his armor and into his legs. People all around ducked or ran from the explosion. Bilbus veered close to the ground and alighted, facing the watchmen. He drew his adamantine sword and walked forward.
The four watchmen had been knocked to the ground. All were bloodied from the blast, but none of them were too seriously injured. Fergal was pushing himself to a sitting position, shaking his head to clear his ringing ears. Fergal's accomplice lay still, his face a bloodied ruin.
Bilbus growled as he approached. "Step aside, watchmen. This does not involve you."
One of the halberdiers stood and brought his weapon to the ready. The second halberdier did likewise.
One of the watchmen swung his long polearm at the mountebank. Bilbus brought his black sword to bear against the swing, deflecting it enough to miss, but it left him open to the other attacker. That halberd scored a hit that was slowed tremendously by the magickal protections Bilbus wore. It did little more than a slight cut in his side.
I am wasting time, Bilbus decided. He jumped upwards, flying over the two halberds to drop to the ground next to Fergal. The would-be killer had drawn a dagger -- the only weapon he carried -- to defend himself. Bilbus swung down on the man with a mighty strike, avoiding Fergal's defense and cutting him savagely. Fergal fell back to the ground. Bilbus jabbed his adamantine sword into Fergal's throat, then flew upwards before the halberdiers behind him could strike once more.
Rishala and Adria had hurriedly weaved their way through the crowded pub after they heard the muffled explosions. They got out onto the street in front of the pub and looked around. Sturm staggered out of the alleyway next to the pub, a nearly empty bottle in one hand.
Adria approached the drunk Sun Knight. "Was that Bilbus?"
Sturm mournfully emptied his bottle. "Probly." He waved the bottle towards the alley. "I came back this way when Bilbus flew away."
Adria hurried towards the end of the block. Rishala swore under his breath as he followed her to peer down the street. Down the street, just over a block away, were four city watchmen standing by a pair of bodies. Two of the watchmen scanned the sky, holding crossbows at ready. The other two looked at the bodies at their feet. Adria could see Fergal's face, a rictus of death on it, on one of the bodies.
She went back to Sturm. "Well, let's just walk this way. He will catch up when he's done playing."
Bilbus landed on a rooftop. He shirked out of Eric's fine silk shirt, then unpacked a cloth shirt he had stuffed into a pouch. He pulled it on, then put his sword belt on around his waist, instead of over a shoulder. He rearranged the pouches on his belts, pulled his trousers out from his boots, and paused. A short laugh echoed from somewhere below. Was that Adria? he wondered. He flew off, leaving Eric's shirt on the rooftop.
There, a dozen paces away, was Adria leading Sturm and Rishala. They were heading away from him. Smiling mischievously, Bilbus flew down behind them, hovering upright a foot above the ground behind Rishala.
"Why are you going that way?" Bilbus asked loudly.
"Ah!" Rishala jumped in surprise.
Bilbus chuckled cruelly. "Good to see you, too. What say we find the harbor master's office? It should be up there, near those warehouses." Bilbus pointed towards some large buildings ahead of the four walkers.
The mountebank landed on the paving stones and led his three friends through the warehouses to a dark, square, one story building. He walked right to the door and rattled the latch. It did not move.
"Bilbus, I think they're closed," Rishala offered. "It is night, after all."
"Of course they're closed," Bilbus said as he studied the lock just above the latch. "When better to smuggle mercenaries into the city?" He drew his lock picking tools from their pouch hidden below the metal vambrace covering his forearm. He inspected the hole in the pouch, no doubt caused when Eric tried to stab him with those funny daggers, then shrugged his shoulders and picked the lock.
The lock responded with an odd metallic "ping". Bilbus tried the latch, but it did not budge. He looked at the lock, only then noticing the needle that had poked out of it, just missing his fingers. Bilbus had little doubt that the substance on the needle was more than just a grease. Some people took security too seriously.
"Well, so much for that," Bilbus said as he put his picks away. "Let's get back to the inn."
"What about the needle?" Rishala asked.
"What about it?"
"Well, ye kinna just leave it out like that. They will know someone tried to break in."
"So?" Bilbus walked away.
Grumbling to himself, Rishala found a flat rock that he used to push the needle back into the lock. He then jogged after his comrades.
Back at the inn, Bilbus walked into Breanna and Eric's room. Breanna watched Eric, her eyes bleary, while Kasey snoozed on the floor.
"Hey, Bree? I need to change my hair color. Can you make me a blond?"
Breanna looked at him. She noticed Adria in the doorway behind the mountebank. "Okay. Why?"
Adria answered before Bilbus could. "Somebody decided he wanted to fly around the Dock Quarter and let people see him."
Bilbus growled to Adria. "I was not about to let Fergal get away. The Guild does not need to know I am in town."
Breanna waited to make sure the two were not going to say anything else. "Let me get some things." She looked at Eric. The explorer had shifted a little bit. It may have been innocent, but Breanna was not going to take a chance.
After channeling a weaving into Eric to put him back to sleep, Breanna grabbed her herbalist's supplies. She woke up Kasey, waiting until he was alert, then followed Bilbus and Adria back to their room.
Sturm looked at the large nail Bilbus had given him. The thief had said something about using it to secure the door, then he had given Sturm a hammer, too. Maybe Bilbus had not realized how much Sturm had drank during the evening. Or maybe he did.
Sturm pulled on his metal gauntlets, then tried driving the nail into the window sill, at the bottom, where it might wedge the window shut. The drunk knight studied the nail for a moment, then swung the hammer, missing the nail and hitting his armored hand. He brought the hammer up for a second blow before passing out. He fell forward, hitting the nail with his head before coming to rest with his head against the sill.
The knight woke up some time later, face cold from a gentle breeze blowing into the room. He glanced around, looking for the chamber pot. It was not readily visible in the dark room, but Sturm could not wait for long. It slowly dawned on the knight that the window was open, although he could not remember having opened it earlier.
Sturm leaned one arm against the window sill, steadying himself as he urinated out the open window.
Two rooms over, in Eric's room, Kasey heard invectives being shouted outside. He peered out the window in the predawn darkness, seeing nothing at first. He looked to one side, then noticed a stream of liquid coming from Sturm's window. He followed the stream down towards the ground, but it broke up several feet above the ground, as if it were hitting something that was not visible. Kasey scratched his head and wondered about the oddity for a moment, then went back to watching Eric.
Sturm finished and shut the window. He still did not remember opening the window. Maybe Rishala knows why the window is open, the Sun Knight decided. He went out to the hallway and down a couple of doors to Rishala's. The hallway was slowly spinning, so Sturm leaned against the door and started to hammer on it with a gauntleted fist.
"Rishala," he shouted. "I need to talk to you, Rishala!"
Rishala undid the lock on his door and lifted the latch. The door flew open, dumping Sturm into Rishala's arms.
"Sturm, was that you peeing out the window?" Rishala asked as he help the unsteady knight stand up straight again.
"I couldn't find the chamber pot."
"Who were you peeing on?"
"I don't know. I didn't see anybody." Sturm stepped into Rishala's room. "Usually I check. Maybe I forgot..."
Rishala looked at the metal gloves. "Aye, and what is with the gauntlet wearing?"
"These?" Sturm studied the gauntlets for a few seconds as he tried to figure out why he had them on. "Oh. I was drunk." He stopped to rub his forehead, where a small, round bruise glared out angrily. "And Bilbus wanted me to hammer a nail into my window to keep it shut. And I was drunk, and I didn't want to hit my hand in case I missed the nail."
Kasey rapped lightly on the frame of Rishala's door. "Hey. That was weird."
"That someone was standing down there when I went?" Sturm asked.
"Someone was down there? I didn't see anyone."
Rishala asked, "What did you see, then?"
"Well, when Sturm went, it didn't go all the way to the ground. I mean, it went most of the way, then it acted like it hit something before it hit the ground."
"Aye, well what did it hit?"
"I don't know. I didn't see anything for it to hit." Kasey turned back towards the hallway. "Come on. I'll show you."
Kasey led them back to Sturm's room. He looked around a moment, then grabbed a pitcher on the table next to Sturm's bed. He opened the window. "It went out like this." He tipped the pitcher, pouring the water out the window. "Then it hit something..." He looked at the water flow. It spattered on the ground. "I swear to you, Rishala. It did not hit the ground last time."
"I believe you, Kasey," Rishala said, suddenly tense. "We better check this room to make sure it is empty."
"But there's only the three of us in here," Kasey protested.
"Aye, that we can see. There may be someone else in here invisible."
"Oh..." Kasey started searching, waving his arms around ahead of him to try to hit an unseen visitor.
Several minutes passed as the three thoroughly searched Sturm's room. Once Rishala was satisfied that no one could possibly remain undetected, he stopped the two knights.
"Hey, maybe Farran can track whoever it was that wasn't out there," Kasey suggested. "He tends to do well tracking."
The Church Knight rushed out of Sturm's room.
When he returned several minutes later, he reported that Farran was able to follow the trail about a block before losing it at an intersection.
Shortly after the sun rose above the eastern horizon, Kasey left Breanna to fetch them breakfast. Meridaun was in the hall, walking towards him.
Kasey bowed formally. "Mother Meridaun," he greeted her.
"Kasey, good morning." She looked at him. "Rise, Kasey. You need not be so formal with me."
Kasey nodded, a little embarrassed, then excused himself. "I need to get breakfast for Breanna and me. Did you want something?"
"No, thank you, Kasey. I am fine."
Kasey bowed again and passed Meridaun, heading for the stairs. Meridaun watched him hurry down the stairs, then turned to rap on Breanna's door.
Breanna opened the door quickly. "Oh, Mother Meridaun."
"'Meri' is fine," Meridaun said. "How is he doing?"
"Eric slept through most of the night. He woke up a couple of times and struggled with the restraints..."
Meridaun interrupted. "He is not supposed to be free, is he?" She pointed past Breanna into the room.
"Huh?" Breanna turned around. Eric had somehow gotten out of one of the manacles, and he was messing with the other one. Breanna sighed as she hurried towards Eric, channeling Heka into another sleep casting. She grabbed Eric's foot and watched him fall, asleep once more. "I wish I could make him better. I don't think we can keep watching him all hours of the day and night."
Within a few minutes, Kasey had returned with steaming hot breads for breakfast. The rest of the party arrived in Breanna and Eric's room shortly after the Church Knight had started eating.
Bilbus looked at the sleeping Azirian as he rubbed his hand through his now blond hair. "We need to find some way to move him. We can't stay here for long, and one of the maids might talk to the town watch if they see him shackled like this."
Adria offered cheerfully, "We could break his arms. He won't go for my bow again, and he probably would not be able to get out of the manacles."
Breanna waited a little too long to protest. "No. We can't just break his arms."
"Sure we could," Adria countered. "It would be easy. And he would have a much harder time escaping if we did."
Bilbus smirked. "We could wrap him in anchor chain and roll him to the docks."
"Sure," Adria added. "And if we roll him too fast, he'll go right down the dock and into the water. Breaking his arms is much easier."
"But it leaves nasty marks," Bilbus retorted. "The anchor chain will do no permanent damage."
"Bree can heal the marks. Besides, he probably could not breathe if you wrapped him in anchor chains."
"We could put him in Farran's saddle," Kasey blurted. "It would be really hard for him to get out of that saddle. I know there have been times when I should have fallen off Farran, but the saddle held me."
Sturm moaned, remembering the one time he had wound up on Farran's back.
"Actually," Rishala said pensively. "That may be the best idea."
"Great," Bilbus said. "As long as Farran doesn't get hungry." He looked at Meridaun. "So, can you go work your priestly wiles and get us a boat to Hellenas?"
Meridaun smirked at Bilbus. "No. Even if I asked nicely."
Unfazed, Bilbus turned to Kasey. "How about you? Can you ask for a Church boat?"
Kasey shook his head. "If she can't get one, I know I can't get one."
"Well, I guess we go to the docks and look for a ship for hire." Bilbus looked at his friends. "Well? We don't have all day. Let's go."
Breanna looked at Eric. "We can't leave him here alone. I will stay and watch him."
"I can help," Meridaun said as she walked towards Eric's bed.
"Fine. Are the rest of you going to help?"
Bilbus led the rest of the party from the room as Meridaun uttered some quiet prayers and gripped Eric's head.
Bilbus led his companions to the harbor master's offices. "I want to get this o'Miere," he explained before entering the building. None of the party followed him into the office.
When the man in the front office looked up, Bilbus said, "I want Shain o'Miere, the head harbor master."
"Which one do you want?" the man asked dully
"The head harbor master," Bilbus replied.
"Oh. I thought you wanted Shain o'Miere."
"I do."
"He's not the Elder Harbor Master."
"He's not?"
"No. Shain o'Miere is the Harbor Master of Warehouses."
"Never mind." Bilbus changed tactics. "I want a ship."
"Milord, we do not arrange travel here. The Office of the Harbor Master assigns ships to berths, and it handles services for docked vessels. What you need is an agent who arranges travel."
"Forget I asked," Bilbus said darkly as he turned to leave.
Back outside, he saw that Kasey had wandered towards a nearby ship.
"What's he doing?" Bilbus asked Rishala.
"He wanted to see if that ship is available. It looks like it may be a passenger carrier. See all the portholes?"
Kasey returned a few minutes later. "It's expensive. Two Eiresudian Drakes per day, but it covers all expenses, and they can take horses as well."
"Two Drakes?!?" Bilbus exclaimed. "Kasey, it's a three week trip to Hellenas. I know I don't have forty-some gold coins hanging in my coin purse. We may be better off finding a Hellenic ship heading back to its home port." Bilbus started looking around at the dozens of ships.
"And how do you recognize a Hellenic ship?" Rishala asked.
Bilbus pulled a folded paper from a pouch. He unfolded it to reveal a map. "This is the Brythomar." He pointed at a region of the Avillonian coast. "Here is Hellenas. Notice the funny squiggles and things below where it reads 'Hellenas'? That's Hellenic writing. We just need to find a ship whose name looks like these squiggles."
Rishala sighed loudly, but followed Bilbus nonetheless.
As the rest of the party walked away, Kasey said, "I am going back to the inn to see if Mother Meridaun has any ideas."
Bilbus waved dismissively at the departing Church Knight. After ten minutes of searching, Bilbus finally found a boat with markings similar to the Hellenic script.
The mountebank approached one of the men loading cargo. When the man noticed Bilbus, the mountebank asked, "Me find kepten waar?"
The man pointed to another man at the foot of the ship's gangplank.
Bilbus approached this new man. "You be kepten of botte?"
The man nodded.
"I be need hire of botte, to Hellenas."
"Quant of cargo?"
"No cargo. Just peoples." Bilbus held up eight fingers. "Eight peoples. And horse."
The man shook his head. "Not room on botte."
"You savar other botte of Hellenas?"
The man shrugged. "I be kepten of botte here, not many bottes."
"Thanks," Bilbus said. He turned back to his friends. "That was a waste. Let's see if there are any other Hellenic ships around here."
Another half hour of searching turned up one other Hellenic ship loading cargo. It, too, had no room for passengers.
"Bilbus," Rishala said. "Why don't I go to the Harbor Master's office and get a list of ships leaving for Hellenas? It is something a harbor master would know."
The Caledonian returned several minutes later, grousing about paying a bribe for the list. "There are four other boats leaving for Hellenas today. All of them are Eiresud registry."
The party checked all four other boats; none had room for everyone, and only one could have carried a horse in its hold.
"Well," Bilbus concluded. "That pretty much covers us for today. I guess we can go hole up in the inn for another night."
Kasey came jogging back to the party. "Hey! I found you! Umm, Mother Meridaun has hired a ship. That one I was looking at, the Bard's Hearth. She talked him down in price and paid for it and everything. We need to get our stuff. I'm going back to the inn to get a wagon and all the horses. Oh, and Breanna and Eric. You guys can board when we get back. The captain wants to provision the ship before he lets us aboard.. Mother Meridaun needs to get her things, too."
Kasey escorted Meridaun back to the inn. Meridaun went into the inn while Kasey went to the stables to get the horses.
At Breanna's door, Meridaun knocked. "Breanna? We have a ship. We can leave."
Breanna opened the door. "A ship? But we can't leave yet. I need to see the priest in the church."
"Why?"
"He is going to teach me the prayers he uses for healing the mind."
"Like the prayers I did this morning?"
"Yes," Breanna nodded.
"I can teach those prayers to you."
Breanna blushed, admonishing herself for not realizing it sooner. Of course Meridaun knew the prayers. She used them this morning.
Meridaun smiled. "It's okay, Breanna. Look, I need to gather my bags. I'll be back in a minute to help you with Eric."
Breanna shut the door and turned around. She shouted in surprise. Eric had somehow freed both arms from the manacles, and he was picking the lock on one of his ankle restraints.
Eric glanced at Breanna. She was not stopping him. Perhaps she wanted him to escape the demon. The woman Breanna had just been talking to may have been helping Bilbus.
But you know her. She is from the Church, a voice in the back of his mind protested.
"Sure," Eric snarled aloud. "And so was Bilbus. A Church-raised orphan, a thief, and now a demon." His left foot was free.
Eric squirmed out from under the bedcovers, hopping towards Breanna and the door with one ankle still attached to the restraints. He realized that he was stark naked. Bilbus must have contaminated my clothes.
Breanna moved to block the door. Perhaps the demon and its associates were waiting for him out there? Eric dropped to a kneel to remove the other ankle restraint. He turned and ran for the window, throwing it open and once more clambering for the roof, ignoring the scrapes on his bare flesh. He ran down two windows and hung from the edge of the roof. Sturm's room. The explorer opened the window and swung in. A quick glance showed no one in the room, but some of Sturm's belongings were.
Kuso. No weapons. Bilbus must have been here already. Instead, Eric grabbed a pair of the Sun Knight's trousers and returned to the roof.
Kasey heard the commotion in the crowd on the street. Several people were pointing to the roof of the inn. A couple of them look shocked, and one was laughing hysterically. Kasey looked to the roof. Eric ran along the peak of the roof, naked, carrying a pair of pants. The Azirian stopped long enough to put one leg into the trousers, then hopped along trying to put the other leg through. Whoever's pants those were, they were too big for Eric. His feet did not even come out of the pantlegs, and he had to hold onto the waist to keep them from falling right back off.
Kasey watched the explorer stumble along the rooftop, then looked at the front entrance of the inn. He really did not want to chase the smaller man across the roof of the inn. Kasey reached into one of his coin purses and withdrew a single coin.
"A gold coin to whoever brings that man down from the inn unharmed!"
An excited murmur tore through the crowd, and a number of people ran towards the inn, intent on getting the gold coin for himself or herself.
Eric looked around at the street in front of the inn. The giant blond man on the foul horse offered a gold coin to whoever could catch Eric. That could not be Kasey. Kasey would never hand Eric over to a demon.
Eric ran towards the back of the inn. His feet, inside the leg of the trouser, slipped on the smooth clay shingles, and he found himself slipping once more off of the roof. Before he could regain his feet on the paving stones behind the inn, Eric found himself swarmed by madmen, all intent on pinning him to the ground. Eric struggled to no avail against the five men holding him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Eric saw Breanna approaching, then darkness.
Kasey finished counting out the coins to the five men who had pinned Eric. The men were disappointed that none of them got the single gold coin, but a fifth of that amount for little real work was still not something at which one would sneer.
Kasey loaded the unconscious man onto Farran's saddle, then led Farran around to the front of the inn. Meridaun was overseeing loading her belongings, as well as those of the rest of the party, onto a wagon. When the belongings were all loaded, they set out for the docks.
Bilbus grabbed his saddle bags from the wagon and slung them over a shoulder. Adria took her travel bags and followed Bilbus up the gangplank to the ship.
One of the crew waited for them at the top of the stairs. He was dressed in fine livery, like one would expect in a noble's estate. He bowed deeply to Bilbus and Adria, even though they both wore leather armor and showed little, if any, markings of nobility in their dress.
"Milord, milady. May I take your belongings for you?"
Bilbus looked at the man as if he were insane. Asking to take his stuff? "No," the mountebank said.
Unfazed, the servant turned to Adria. "Milady?"
"Yes, thank you." Adria offered her travel bags to the servant.
Bilbus looked at the servant in surprise. He leaned close to Adria. "Hey, Adria. Give him my saddle bags." He tried to foist his bags nto her. She refused to take them.
"Here," Bilbus said to the servant. "You may take these bags after all."
The servant took the saddle bags. "Milord, milady, you will be sharing a room?"
Bilbus nodded.
"Very good. Please follow me." He turned around and led the two towards an open doorway on the rear of the main deck.
Bilbus watched the man in amazement.
Adria noticed his slackjawed expression. "That is a servant's job, Bilbus. You've seen them before. We even have them at home. Not that we've been home in a long time."
The servant led the two down stairs, then back forward beneath the main deck. He opened a doorway in the hall and walked into the room beyond. Bilbus and Adria surveyed the room as the servant put the bags on a low table.
"Milord, milady, will this room be suitable?"
Bilbus looked at the fine, soft bed, the polished brass appointments on the lanterns and fixtures. He poked his head through an open doorway to see the small water closet and the adjacent bath. He looked once more at the bed room. It was a little small, slightly larger than a room in an inn, but it was still very nice.
"This will do," he finally decided.
"Very good, milord. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"I want some wine. A bottle of good Fronchan wine."
"Of course." The servant bowed and left the room.
"I can't believe we're on a boat," Bilbus exclaimed as he looked around the room.
"I can," Adria said as the hint of nausea crept into her belly.
Bilbus stuck his head into the hallway. The servant was still visible, heading aft. "I also want a hot bath!" Bilbus called after him. The servant turned and bowed, then continued aft.
He returned a minute later with a bottle of red wine. "Will this wine suffice, milord? We are still organizing our supplies for the trip."
Bilbus looked at the wine. He recognized the vineyard name, but it was an older vintage than he had seen in the shops he had frequented. "Yes. This will do nicely."
"Milord's bath will be a while. We have not heated water yet. My apologies."
"Quite all right," Bilbus said. "The wine will help with the wait."
After the servant left, Adria reminded Bilbus that it was customary to tip the wait staff.
"Let's see if he earns it, first," Bilbus said as he opened the bottle of wine.
Kasey carried Eric up the gangplank like a bag of flour. At the top of the ramp a servant greeted him.
"Milord?"
"Yeah," Kasey nodded to himself. "Do you have a brig on this ship?"
"We do not normally have need of one, but there is a single cell available belowdecks."
"Good. We need to put this man into it until he regains his senses."
"Of course, milord."
"Oh. And see that horse?" Kasey pointed at Farran. "Treat him like nobility. He is easier to handle when you treat him like you would a short-tempered lord."
"I see, milord. I will advise the handlers."
A short while later, the ship set sail south towards the harbor mouth, then out to sea.
Eric found himself on a large field. It was late, and the full moon overhead was larger than Eric had ever seen it. He realized that he must have been dreaming. No moon had ever been so large on Oerth. North of the long plains was a vast, smooth sea. In the glow of the moonlight, Eric could see that nothing was on the sea, as far as the eye could see. The faint breeze did nothing to stir the water, which could have been a sea of glass.
There were bonfires all about on the plains, the nearest a scant hundred paces away. Colorfully-decorated orcs danced around the bonfire -- all of the bonfires, Eric corrected himself. The dance was strange, more like rag dolls being harshly flung about by giant, invisible children.
There were other things visible in the hellish glows of the bonfires. The dark robes and pale heads of Shadow Kindred, with their too-large eyes, were just visible standing in the periphery of the bonfires' glows. They stood motionlessly, transfixed by the ecstatic dancing taking place. Some of the Shadow Kindred held reins attached to large, grotesque things that were a madman's caricature of a half-rotted warhorse. Those horrific things stood as motionlessly as the Shadow Kindred, but they did not watch the dancing.
There were other things dancing as well. Scattered in the throngs of orcs were squat, round things, nearly as tall as a man. Their bare heads glistened moistly, and the mottled green of the skin looked more amphibian than anything. The appearance was not helped by the small, dark eyes and overly wide mouths of the things. Their croaking as they danced sealed the image of the frog-men in Eric's mind. The passing familiarity he felt seeing them was gone soon, for he realized that the things had seen him.
The frog-men pointed at Eric, and orcs bellowed, and soon all the things at the bonfire were racing towards Eric. He turned to run, but realized that any direction he fled would take him closer to a bonfire with its attendant orcs and others.
As Eric fled in a random direction, he noticed a stairwell ahead of him. A corner of his mind protested that it was out of place, but the familiarity of the wrought iron fence surrounding the descending flight of stairs was assuring. Eric veered towards the stairwell, beating the orcs to it and stepping onto the first step.
The fields and moon disappeared, leaving nothing but the stairs descending ahead of Eric. There was not even blackness here, for even blackness was something.
Eric walked the seventy steps of light sleep once again. As before, he stepped off the last step into nothingness to find himself standing in the Cavern of Fire. Columns of fire, and pools of liquid rock, and countless gems of elemental fire were everywhere to be seen. Ahead of Eric was another wrought iron gate -- never mind that it was too hot for iron to remain solid -- braced by a pair of stone columns. To either side of the gate were the ancient robed priests Nasht and Kaman-Thah.
Eric walked through the Cavern of Fire to stand at the gate. He could see the stairs leading even farther downward.
Nasht addressed Eric first: "Traveler, you have returned to the Cavern of Fire. Do you know the questions? Do you know the path?"
Eric nodded. "I know the questions: For what do I journey? I journey for knowledge and remembrance. To where do I journey? I journey to the Dreamlands.
"I know the path: Down the seven hundred steps to the Gates of Deeper Slumber must I go to reach the Enchanted Forest."
The other priest nodded. "You may pass, Traveler. Safe journey to you. We will see you once more."
Eric passed between the stone columns and onto the first step. The Cavern of Fire disappeared, fading until there was nothingness and the steps down. Eric walked down the seven hundred steps of deeper slumber. He stepped off the last one and a forest appeared around him. The stairs were nowhere to be found.
The familiar forest stretched in all directions, vibrant greens and the myriad cheerful colors of fungi underfoot all fresh in the early morning sunlight. It was always morning when one arrived in the Enchanted Forest. The distant calls of happy songbirds put a spring in Eric's step as he set off south, towards the town of Ulthar. It was about a half-day's journey to reach the town, but to reach Ulthar, Eric had to pass through the Zoog territory. Eric had never met a Zoog, but he had heard tales in the dreamlands that the Zoog would require a tribute to allow visitors passage. Eric had never heard what the cost of the tribute was.
After the calming walk through the forest and along the Skai, Eric reached Ulthar. Once more the Zoog did not manifest during his walk. He remembered many times passing through the forest to Ulthar, but he did not know why he never remembered these journeys when he was awake.
Ulthar was a quaint town. Eric had never identified the architectural style. It looked almost Kelltic, but it had features he would have associated with Hellenic design, or perhaps Fronchan design. But the architecture was never the memorable aspect of Ulthar.
Cats were everywhere, lazing in the midday sun, curled on window sills, flopped across stairs, stalking birds. Eric remembered that the laws of Ulthar protected cats from harm.
A small black kitten toddled out into the street towards Eric. The explorer kneeled to pat the kitten, and he murmured to it in the Tongue of the Cats as he did so.
The kitten looked up at the human's face. ...Mother says some of the Waking Ones speak to us, but they visit so rarely...
Eric was surprised with himself....I forgot myself that I speak it, little one. It has been long...
The kitten rubbed against Eric's boot. ...Have a good visit, Waking One. Perhaps you can visit again, and we can chase mice or visit the Moon. Mother says I will soon be old enough to visit the Moon...
Eric rubbed the cat under its chin, then stood to continue walking through town. He recognized some of the people, and they remembered him as well. The afternoon passed quickly as Eric talked to the villagers of Ulthar, catching up on the events that had taken place over the years in the dreamlands.
The dream ended far too quickly, and Eric felt himself rising back to the Waking Lands, where the horrific demons had possessed his friends.
Sturm dreamed as well on the first night out from Brallian.
He found himself in what he thought was a church. The styling of the building was unfamiliar -- it was an octagonal building with a raised dais and shrine in the middle and statues along the periphery -- but it still a place of worship. Or, at least, it was.
Even in the dark twilight of the building, Sturm could see that the church had been defiled. The statues were damaged, and piles of offal had been deposited on the altar. The damage was not recent, either. Thin layers of dust covered most everything in sight. Whatever had happened to the worshippers of the gods of this temple, they had not returned to cleanse the church.
Sturm stepped over broken pews and around the altar towards the metallic double doors on the far side of the temple. One of the doors hung from its lower hinge, partially blocking the exit. The other one was closed. In the dim light, Sturm was able to see rust from years of decay on both doors.
The Sun Knight peered out through the opening. He felt a chill as he did so, and it was not from the warm air outside. The cold stars above were unfamiliar, completely alien. There was no moon above, but there was enough light outside to match the brightest full moon. In the available light, Sturm could see the forest around the building. The branches of the trees were bare, and dead leaves were all about, blowing in the breeze or piling in low points in the forest. A narrow dirt road wound away from the temple into the trees. The road ended at the temple.
The memory of something half-seen nagged at Sturm. He turned back to the interior of the temple and circled around to the far side. The wall opposite the entrance had no statues along it, but it had a familiar slab of stone that Sturm knew would be pink if there were sufficient light. The eleven foot by eleven foot Portal stood adjacent to the wall, not touching it. Sturm knew he was going to find the Portal here, but he did not know why.
He went back to the front of the temple. This time, he squeezed through the opening and onto the road. The dirt of the road was dry and packed, and there were no wagon ruts or hoofprints in it. Sturm followed the road, keeping a wary eye on the forest around him. The breeze blowing through the barren branches sounded like the moan of the dead. The crackle of dried leaves being crushed underfoot came from the forest from time to time, but there was never anything there when Sturm looked.
After a time walking along the road, Sturm found where it led. The forest ahead thinned, revealing a splendid castle on a hill ahead, about a mile distant. The main building, most of which was visible above the walls, looked more like a manor house than a military structure. The walls were at the foot of the hill, tall enough to serve defensively. Lights came out of some of the manor house's windows. The road Sturm followed passed the gatehouse and kept going beyond, back into the forest.
Sturm walked along the road to the gatehouse. The portcullis was raised and the heavy iron-bound oak doors were open. There were no guards posted at the gate. Sturm looked at one of the doors closely. The iron bands were rusting, not as badly as the doors of the temple, but rusted no less. The thick oak boards had small holes in them from termites, and they showed signs of dry rot.
Sturm walked through the gatehouse and into the outer bailey of the castle. The manor house did not touch the walls at all, and it looked all the more like a lord's estate that had been walled in as an afterthought. The foundation of the house was at least ten feet above the ground level of the gatehouse. A large opening, almost an inner gatehouse, led through the outer wall of the manor house to a courtyard within. Sturm walked up the path to that inner courtyard.
The inner courtyard was familiar. A pair of twisted, dead trees stood to either side of the passage. A dry fountain in the center of the courtyard, its bottom covered in a layer of dry leaves and dirt. Sickly bushes decorated the sides of the courtyard. Several steps led to a pair of closed doors opposite the manor's entry passage.
Sturm strode across the courtyard to the doors. He stood next to them, one hand resting on the comforting grip of Gretorixmar, then other on the latch of the nearest door. The door opened quietly, far more quietly than Sturm expected considering the condition of the door's hinges.
A short passage beyond the doors emptied into an atrium. Sturm kept close to one wall as he padded into the room. Broad stairs curved upwards along both sides to a landing on the upper story of the mansion, and there was another passage on the far side of the room, below the landing. The walls were faded white, well past due for a cleaning, and the maroon carpeting on the floor was dingy. The entire room was lit by numerous torches in sconces. The torches burned steadily, more steadily than any lanterns Sturm had seen. None of them smoked, nor did they sputter.
Sturm stayed close to the right wall, creeping towards the stairs. It was utterly quiet in the room. Even the breeze outside had died down. Sturm drew the ancient hand-and-a-half sword, keeping it ready, as he climbed the stairs to the landing.
The landing led to a passageway that went to either direction along the back wall of the mansion. Sturm turned to look back down at the atrium from his new vantage point.
"You return again," the familiar voice behind him said.
Sturm turned back to see the tall, gaunt man looking at him with his piercing, dark eyes. His pale visage was just as Sturm remembered it from a dream months ago. The man smiled thinly, revealing long, narrow fangs.
Sturm brought his sword to the ready, stepping back a couple of paces to give himself room to fight.
"Always expecting a fight," the man said, still smiling. "You need fear nothing here, mortal. Your soul is safe within my domain. You are far too valuable to feed upon."
He stepped forward, reaching out slowly towards Sturm with one hand.
"Come. Let us be as civilized men. Perhaps you could use a drink? I have many fine wines."
Sturm was unsure of himself. Perhaps this man was not so dangerous, despite the voice screaming in the back of his mind.
The man's cool hand was reassuring as it touched Sturm's, slowly pushing Sturm's hands downwards until the tip of Gretorixmar's blade touched the stained carpet.
"There is no need for that weapon here," the man said.
Sturm nodded. Of course he did not need a sword. Without another thought, he dropped Gretorixmar.
The man smiled, still not warmly. "Come, let us have a meal."
Sturm followed the man back down the stairs to the main floor. He led the Sun Knight beneath the landing to the ground floor and to the right to a spiraling staircase that descended into the hill. Down the stairs, lit also by the unflickering torches, and into a large banquet hall Sturm followed the man.
The man pulled a seat out at one end of the table. "Take a seat here," he said to the Sun Knight. Sturm obediently sat down, looking about at the sparse decor of the room.
Portraits, most of them of Sturm's host, were the only color in the room. Beyond the far end of the table was a large fireplace, long cold and dead. Above it, on a stand on the mantle, was a spear Sturm remembered from the previous dream. Its dark wooden shaft showed stains from what had to have been dried blood, and there were bits of dried, rotted flesh hanging from the spearhead.
The host noticed Sturm's fixation with the spear.
"You will no longer need that spear, mortal," he said as he leaned close to Sturm's head, speaking quietly into the Sun Knight's ear.
The sudden prick of teeth in Sturm's neck surprised the Sun Knight briefly, but the cool touch of the man's lips on the knight's neck was reassuring as the vampire started to drain Sturm's life away.
Sturm sat bolt upright, waking finally from the dream. He glanced around in the dark, tense. He was in his cabin aboard the Bard's Hearth, sailing towards Hellenas, back once more on Oerth. An experimental touch of his neck showed no puncture wounds. The knight felt around on the table next to the bed until he found the bottle of wine that he had insisted the servant bring him. It was half empty, but Sturm decided to finish it. They could bring him a new bottle with breakfast.
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Original Draft 5 July 2002
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