You pass without incident from the dark forest towards the old walled city of Camars. It's a low-built city nestled in the mountains, constructed of old stone, its walls aged and weathered. Khom-Bei, Verraine and Thragga crouch under a blanket in the large wagon driven by the Gholibin Ugash, and Kane in the buckboard. Some firewood logs gathered by Kane and Ugash are also in the back of the wagon, pinning down the blankets and concealing the three.
Shortly after you get underway, the wagon stops, and the three in the back hear Ugash climb down, then untie the draft horses that Khom-Bei lashed to the wagon, then poke and prod them. "Ai! Gip! Gip!" the little Gholibin squeaks at them.
Thragga rumbles at Khom-Bei, "What's that little bastard doing to my lunch?"
The two draft horses, which formerly hauled Lorn's cart, scared by the Gholibin, back off from the wagon.
Ugash points at the rump of one. "They branded! Branded with Lorn's sign...You know what happen to horse thieves in Camars, Kane?"
Kane tries to get the horses back in line. "We may have to leave them here."
Thragga sticks his head out from under the blanket. "Kane! Stop him!"
Kane says, "Be quiet, log. I'm going to have to let them free."
Khom-Bei pops his head up and adds:"Surely an intelligent fellow like you can come up with a way to get the horses into town, Ugash."
Kane says, "Why risk it?"
As Lorn's draft horses dash off into the woods, the Gholibin climbs back in the wagon and takes the reins, unruffled. "Ugash tell you what happen if he was caught. Impalement. Stick a pointy pole so far up your hole that it come out his mouth." He chucks the reins, and the wagon heads off down the Kingsroad towards Camars.
Khom-Bei says, "Perhaps Verraine might like a horse to ride when we leave this place? Or is she going to run alongside Thragga?"
Thragga frowns as the draft horses flee and the wagon you're all in heads in the opposite direction. Then he puts his head back under the blanket and makes like a log again.
Kane says, "We can always buy her a horse."
In response, Ugash whistles a tuneless Gholibin tune. It's shrill and ear piercing, and doesn't make the ride any more pleasant.
Khom-Bei shakes his head and ducks back under the blanket.
The trip back to the walled city of Camars is uneventful, taking about an hour. Ugash smoothly talks his way through the gates; the guards know the small fellow well, and wave him past with his cargo. He tosses a small pouch of copper coins to the chief sergeant of the gates with the practiced skill of a born briber.
Camars is an old city, the long-ago capital of the Kingdom of Nedra, which turned into Tol Nedra and became a beacon to the other lands. The shadowed city, under the Shroud now, is low-built, nestled in the forested foothills a few days south of Dolgur, and reeks of smoke and pinewoods.
The permanent pall of night is lit fitfully here and there with cookfires and beacons burning odorous dung.
Ugash steers the cart down the main street, makes a short left next to a nameless tavern, and pulls into a smith's workshop, a wooden building like a one-story barn. Once inside, he gestures to Kane to pull back the blanket to let his friends free.
Ugash moves to close the workshop doors, then bolts each.
Kane says, "Everybody out--ride's over!"
Thragga clambers out of the wagon and stomps his big feet to stretch his legs.
Verraine also gets out, still wrapped in Khom-Bei's fur, looking weak and dizzy.
Khom-Bei says, "Ugash, we need to get our friend some warm clothes, some hot food, and a bed."
A large, broad-shouldered Reith with a shaven pate and thick beard steps into the workshop. He goes to Verraine, silently embracing her with massive strong arms.
Kane says, "Ugash, can you find food and a place to rest for Verraine?"
Verraine returns the embrace, then steps back. "Dras, old friend, these are friends of ours who saved me. Kane you know, and this is Thragga and Khom-Bei."
The smith bows to each of you in turn.
Khom-Bei returns the bow and extends a hand to the smith.
Dras extends his hand to the Northerling. Thragga takes the big man's grip as well, then looks at his own hand in amazement. The Urag grins. "A good strong arm!" he says appreciatively.
Ugash bustles about the workshop, gathering this and that, as you all meet.
Khom-Bei says, "We brought most of a deer carcass that Thragga hunted, perhaps we should talk as we eat. Verraine is still very weak."
Dras nods.
Ugash pipes up, "Dras busy, busy. You all come with Ugash!" Without waiting, he heads out a back door into the yard. "No tarry!"
Thragga frowns. "Little pipsqueak."
Khom-Bei looks to Dras and then Kane. "Perhaps someone could explain?"
Dras lifts Verraine in his arms, easily. He nods in the direction that Ugash hurried off.
Khom-Bei gathers the deerskin with its' cargo of meat and follows Dras.
Kane says, "Dras cannot talk, Khom-Bhei."
Khom-Bei says, "I was beginning to get that impression. No matter, Ugash talks enough for two."
Thragga says, "Can't talk?" He turns to Dras and says, loudly, "CAN---YOU--UNDERSTAND--ME? I AM...THRAGGA. THRAG-GA."
Kane says in a low voice "Thragga, his tongue was cut out by the Vorghol..."
Thragga scowls at Kane's words.
Dras rolls his eyes at the foolish Urag and leads you outside.
Khom-Bei shakes his head and walks away from Thragga.
Kane claps his friend on the back, "Lets go green one."
Ugash has opened a storm door in the stableyard, opening on a short flight of stone steps, and Dras, with Verraine in his arms, waits patiently for you all to catch him up and gestures down the hole in the ground.
The stableyard is well-concealed from the street by a high fence, spiked on top with iron grates that Dras probably built himself.
Khom-Bei hurries down the stairs.
Kane pushes Thragga in the direction of the stairs and follows behind him.
The cellar is small and dark. An outer room appears to be a storeroom of some kind, with crates and barrels stashed there. Ugash waits at the bottom. He reaches behind one of the barrels, making sure you all see how to open the door, and snaps a switch. An inner door you hadn't seen before slides opens on a much larger room, and Ugash, his arms full, hurries inside.
Khom-Bei follows Ugash into the hidden room, and Kane slips inside as well, with Thragga just behind.
A set of sleeping rooms adjoin a small common room, which has a dining table and a small kitchen area. The light of magical glowstones illuminate the chambers. Ugash sets down his burden and sets to work making a fire in the hearth, then filling a pot with water for cooking. He whistles his tune as he does so.
Dras moves forward into one of the sleeping rooms, setting down Verraine gently, smoothing her hair, and then returning to you all in the common room.
Kane sits down at one of the chairs and says, "We must soon plan our next moves."
Ugash says, "You safe now. Sit, eat, Ugash make soup for you. Good soup, Gholibin recipe! Ugash get from his grandma." He hacks at some root vegetables he brought with him, tossing them into the pot and whistling.
Khom-Bei sets the deerskin on the hearth and begins to cut venison into the cooking pot. Ugash chuckles at Khom-Bei's additions to the soup. "Good, good. You know this recipe!"
Khom-Bei says, "As long as it is safe, Verraine needs to rest here."
Thragga says, "I say our next move is a meal, Kane." The big Urag sprawls on the floor near the hearth, happily.
Kane says, "True enough my friend."
Dras sits across from Kane, patiently.
As the soup begins to boil, filling the room with a wondrous smell, Ugash leaps atop the table. He picks at his toes with long nails. "Dras thinks you may stay here as long as want. But no wearing swords and such upstairs. You laborers, help out in smithy..." Dras looks to each of you, his expression welcoming.
Kane says, "Just long enough for us to regain our strength."
Thragga slumps back, head pillowed on a rug near the hearth.
With a joint-cracking stretch, Khom-bei strolls toward a bedroom yawning. "Wake me in a few hours, I need rest more than food."
Ugash nods. "Ugash wake you. Sleep now." He nibbles at whatever it is he picked from his toes.
Kane set about cleaning his sword and armor.
Khom-Bei scoops up the remaining venison in the deerskin and carries it along with him as he goes.
The soup boils and sputters. Dras produces a small cask of ale and a few loaves of Tol Nedran black bread for you to enjoy. As Khom-Bei is about to leave, Dras picks up his warhammer and inspects it.
Khom-Bei says, "You like the hammer, Dras?"
The smith runs his finger along its head.
Thragga says, "HE--SAYS--DO---YOU--LIKE---HIS---HAMMER?"
Kane says, "Thragga, knock it off."
Khom-Bei shakes his head slowly and sighs. "Forgive my green friend, please, he was raised by livestock.
Dras frowns at the Urag. He looks thoughtfully at Khom-Bei a moment and then gestures encouragingly towards the sleeping chamber.
Khom-Bei says, "I think that the hammer is too small for the job, but I have not been able to find a smith that agrees with me."
Thragga looks puzzled, hurt almost.
Khom-Bei says, "Yes, Dras. We'll talk after I rest."
Khom-Bei shuffles off to bed, muttering about Urag manners.
Kane runs a whet stone up the length of his sword, then tests the edge.
The soup doesn't take long, and soon Ugash is ladling up great bowls of it for Kane, Thragga and Dras, merrily singing the Gholibin soup song. They seem to have music for everything. The soup's actually delicious, and Thragga is soon pouring ale for all of you and proposing a toast. "What should we drink to, Kane?"
Kane says, "To freedom."
Verraine appears at the door of her chamber, dressed in soft hunting leathers. Perhaps the smell revived her. "I will drink to that..." she says quietly, with a smile.
Thragga leaps up and passes her his mug. "To freedom!" he cries. Ugash and Dras grin and Ugash runs to hug Verraine.
Verraine takes a seat next to Kane as you all drain your mugs. Thragga refills them and Ugash ladles more soup all around.
Kane says, "It is towards that goal that we must plan. But it can wait till tomorrow I guess."
Ugash says, "Dras thinks you all tired, should rest, eat now, then sleep, then make poop, then plan."
Kane says, "Sleep. I almost forget what that is."
Verraine turns serious. "There is no time. We must act soon, Kane, or all the Hunters could be in grave danger."
Kane says, "I agree Verraine, but it can wait one night. We are all very tired and no good to anyone in this state."
Thragga says, "We are Hunters! We will sleep when we are dead!"
Kane says, "Even Hunters need rest now and then. You Verraine, more than all of us."
Verraine nods. "Perhaps you are right. In any event, it will take me a few days to work out the details, Kane."
Kane says, "I have not had a chance to tell you this Verraine, but I mourn your parents. They were very good to me over the years."
Verraine leans forward and embraces Kane, her eye glistening. "My father and mother thought most highly of you, and you too, Thragga."
Kane replys "Enough of this talk then, you need your rest and this armor isn't going to clean itself."
Thragga picks at his teeth. "I will say prayers for them to He-Who-Watches. Taggart was a hero, and Erian was a good woman, for a Reith."
Ugash wipes his nose. He too knew Taggart and Irian. Dras merely scowls, with the look of a man who has known loss.
Kane says, "I sometimes wonder what has become of my own family, though evil curls that they were."
Thragga says, sleepily, "We should go find out, Kane."
Kane shakes his head and raises his mug."To my friends and the only true family I have ever had."
Thragga slumps by the fire, arms curled around his mug. He tries limply to raise it for Kane, but fails, and pitches backwards, exhausted, and asleep.
Kane picks up his sword and starts polishing it again. Verraine, Ugash and Dras clink theirs against Kane's, and all drink well.
After a good meal, Ugash urges you all to sleep. He promises to return and wake you soon. After making sure you are all comfortable, he and Dras depart, the Gholibin whistling and screeching a tune.
Kane says, "Verraine after that mug to bed with you. We will need you well rested."
Kane returns his sword to its scarbard and strts inspecting his scale armor for rust.
Morning and night blur together under the Shroud and those terms are not even used here. Instead, days are divided into watches of 8 hours each. It's at least a watch before Ugash returns to the cellar, and allows you all to rise. He makes sure you're all fed, and shows you around the safehouse. There are bows and swords secreted in a rack, paper and ink and quills in a small desk, food and fuel, glowstones, and spare clothes for all. Then he invites you upstairs. "Kane, Urag, bring armor, Dras will fix. And Khom-Bei, you come, you come!"
Khom-Bei follows Ugash up the stairs.
"This little bastard is getting on my nerves, ordering us around..." Thragga mutters.
Kane follows Ugash up the stairs.
Verraine demurs. She is scrawling something on paper. "I will join you later..." she says.
Kane turs back, "Cool down Thragga, we are their guests and they have not done us anything but good."
Thragga stumps along after Kane, armor over his shoulder.
In the workshop, Dras is bent over his anvil, clad in a leather apron, his sleeves rolled up, hammering at something massive. He shapes and hammers, holding the hot object with tongs. Sparks fly, the heat is impressive.
Dras holds up Khom-Bei's warhammer, then holds up the object he is working on. It's like a bigger, heavier version of his warhammer, called a great hammer among the tribes of the north and the Urag. He grins toothily behind sparks and smoke.
Khom-Bei nods and smiles wide."Excellent work, Dras. Truly a masterwork."
Kane says, "Now that's a hammer even the Warrior would be proud of."
Dras holds up a hand. It's not done yet, but the work looks to be of a very fine order indeed.
Kane turns to Ugash, "What can we do to earn our keep, while we are here eating your food and drinking your ale?"
Ugash points around the shop. "You broom, and clean. Dras likes it clean. And stableyard needs shoveling...Urag, you take shovel, don't leave horse poop in yard!"
Thragga says, "What? Shovel horse shit?"
Kane lays his armor on the work bench then takes up his new weapon and attacks the floors with it.
Thragga folds his arms and scowls. "I left the prairies to get away from little chiefs like you..."
Kane calls to Thragga, "My friend, if you can shovel as much as you can eat the stables wil be the cleanest in town!" then laughs.
Ugash snaps his fingers at Thragga. "No backtalk!"
Dras bangs and slams on the molten weapon.
As Kane works he starts to sing an old song he learned as a boy. He sings not too bad for one so gloomy. Ugash tries to join in with his screechy voice.
Khom-Bei heads back down the stairs with a broom in his hands."I'll take care of the inside."
Thragga snaps, "I knew I hated Gholibins for a reason. Listen, you little..."
Just then, there is a rapping at the closed front door of the workshop, the door that leads to the front yard and the street. A slow patient rapping.
Kane immediately stops his sweeping and raises the broom like a pole arm. He looks to Ugash to see what he will do.
Ugash ignores Thragga and slips over to the door, opening it a crack. "Dras busy, come back..." he starts, before he realizes who is outside. He blinks. "Now?" he asks.
Kane motions for Thragga and Khom-Bhei to get out of sight.
Dras stops hammering a moment. The door opens wide and some figures step through before anyone can hide. Three Reith soldiers dressed in black, and a large Urag slave in a spiked collar, and behind them, a Sathanid...also called a spectre. An undead warrior, in regal garb, over six feet, slender and ghostly. They all wear the livery of Lord Valkris.
"Yes, yes, my lord Ashur," Ugash tells the spectre. Dras can fix this for you." Ugash is saying. "Come in, come in, no attention to the help. Just cleaning up." He gestures lazily at Kane and Thragga, who stand with shovel and broom.
Thragga looks like he wants to swing the shovel, but stands watchful.
Kane goes back to his sweeping. The spectre speaks to Ugash, not sparing a glance for Kane or Thragga. A cold aura surrounds the pale, undead creature, one of the noble guards of the Vorghol Lords. The Urag slave steps forward and hands two pieces of a sword, blade and hilt, to Ugash. The voice is soft, and cold like falling snow. "The..weapon...broke...during...a battle...Now...the smith Dras must...repair it...We will pay...the usual...rates.."
The Urag's naked back is heavily scarred, crisscrossed with whip marks.
Kane eyes Thragga to ensure he does nothing foolish.
As Kane sweeps he moves in Thragga's direction.
Ashur, the Sathanid, glides forward. "What...do...you...make...Dras?"
Dras holds up the great hammer. Ashur's dark glittering eyes inspect the work in progress.
Thragga looks towards the back door. He announces, formally, "I am going outside...to shovel horse shit."
Kane shoots the Urag a evil stare.
Ashur regards Thragga with a cool glare. Then he murmurs, "Dras...is highly...recommended..."
Thragga adds, "I will be outside shoveling...horse shit...if you need me, Kane."
Ugash says, "Dras will fix your sword by tomorrow. Come back in one-two-three watches, my lord." He bows obsequiously, then orders Thragga and Kane, "You, simpletons, show respect for Lord Ashur!"
Kane bows to the Ashur and his men. Thragga bows as well.
The Urag slave exchanges glances with Thragga a moment. They are about the same size and build, but one is free and one is a slave.
Ashur murmurs, "Three watches...then..." and then glides out. His retinue follow obediently. The room seems to warm as the spectre departs.
Ugash slams the door behind them and bolts it. He exhales in relief.
Dras claps each of you on the shoulder in encouragement. Ugash says, "We get along, go along." he says by way of explanation.
Kane stops sweeping and stares at the closed door with hate in his eyes.
Thragga throws the shovel down. "I'm not shoveling shit."
Kane yells back to Thragga, "Why not? Half of it is yours anyway."