"Ah, of course," says Ayazin of the sweet water potions, "I have heard of such potions. Isn't it true that they cannot be drunk, but can purify vast stretches of fouled water? If no one objects, I would like to keep these, to help heal this land of the cancerous evil that clings to it."
"Ye can drink them an' they'll cure ye if yer poisoned," says McTavish, "Or ye can use 'em to purify water as ye said."
September 21st is overcast and windy, but still warm.
You continue north along the great road.
You note that the vultures are following you.
"Raz's air force," McTavish comments with a grin.
Just past midmorning you top a low rise and and find yourselves looking into the shallow valley that Brach Prol lies in.
The village has changed in appearance somewhat since you last beheld it.
The place has been essentially burned to the ground. All that remains standing are the wall surrounding the settlement and a few stone buildings within. The bridge across the river and Castle Ugel are intact but scorched.
You are some 2.5 miles distant, but even from this range you can tell that the place is still occupied. A collection of tents sits just outside of the walls, and you see people moving about.
"Doubt if there's any blood tax now," says the dwarf. "Want to try crossing the bridge...or should we make for the ford that Banquo knows about?"
"In that case, I will gladly give one to any of you who may need it."
Unless there are objections, Ayazin will keep them.
"Thats one way to get something out of our way. Not exactly nice to the people who were living there." comments Illyana, looking at what remains of Brach Prol.
"By the hungry eye of a Northern spy! What has happened here?" asks Ayazin.
"Just a revolution sparked by an assasination and a few fireballs", remarks Raz casually.
"How dangerous is the ford? We should scout the remains out before passing through, just to be sure, I suppose."
"I agree", interjects Raz, "however I advise extreme caution be taken. We have no idea how these people may react to outsiders or if there are any undead left in the area."
Banquo replys,"I do not know how dangerous it is, it would depend on the river flow at this moment."
You move forward for Brach Prol. The fields surrounding the village are deserted, and you see several peasant huts that have been torched.
Near the south gate into the town is a collection of tents. Drab olive green in colour, the flag of Imrimil - depicting a bolt of lightning shooting out of a storm cloud - flies over them. The troops all appear to be kobolds.
Several of the humanoids watch you curiously as you pass and approach the gate house.
At the gate house are four humans...two male and two female...clad in black full plate armour and carrying shields depicting the same sigil. The golden border around the insignia indicates to Banquo and Ayazin that these are members of the Patrol - the elite troops of Nolthen that are under the personal command of the arch-Wizard himself.
They regard the lot of you in silence...paying particular attention to the dwarf, McTavish, and the elves.
After a long minute, one of the men steps forward and asks Raz -
"What is your business here?"
- in a low, quiet voice.
Sharone sits quietly on her horse, bringing to mind the words and gestures required to cast a ' hold person '.
Britan eyes the strangers through his visor as one questions Raz.
Britan keeps an eye one the Fighters and the Mage to see if they are taking up an attacking posture.
"We're just passing through here Sir", replies Raz smiling, "on our way elswhere I assure you."
"Merchants?" the guard asks, eyeing the barrels of beer on McTavish's wagon.
The dwarf takes the hint and rolls one off the top of the pile and sets it at the man's feet.
"You can move on, then," the guard says, signalling inside the guard tower.
Two burly ogres come out. They wear black chain mail.
"Escort them through the town," the guard says, slowly and succinctly to the ogres.
The ogres nod and take up positions...one leading...one following.
You head into what remains of Brach Prol.
Most of the buildings in the village have been burned to the ground. The only ones that survived are the ones made of stone...and even many of these are damaged to a lesser or greater extent. Piles of scorched bodies lie in heaps along the road...stinking and alive with flies. A few people - survivors of the inferno, going by their burns and charred rags - poke through the cinders. Troops are everywhere...kobolds mostly, but commanded by orcs and men.
Britan looks around Brach Prol and says " Pretty gloomy place."
The lead ogre starts to whistle as he leads you through the ruined town.
"Want to sell your stuff McTavish?" asks Illyana. "We could easily refill it later and I think they need it more than we do."
"I'd rather drink it meself," the dwarf mutters, looking about.
You reach the main square of Brach Prol. It is lined with temples and several substantial old inns, all of which have survived the fire fairly intact. Of the temples, the party members from the west recognise only the symbols of Frigga and Untamo over two of the temples. Banquo, Ayazin and Sharone note that the other temples they have seen in this village are devoted to the likes of Asmodeus, Gruumsh, Ogremoch, Hel, Tuonetar and Demogorgon.
There is a signpost in the centre of the square -
The Great Western Road: E: To Castle Ugel, Fort of the Bloody Hand and Shruddup. W: To Vile Orchold, Black Gate and Derextar.
Interstate Seveny Five: S: To the Nameless Ruin and Atlantia.
N: To Castle Ford.
You turn right onto the Great Western Road and continue your trek through the village.
Soon you are at the east gate. Again you see that it is guarded by more members of the Patrol...and while they eye you as you pass through, they make no move towards you.
The ogres stop here.
You continue on...across the bridge...and find yourself before the gates of Castle Ugel.
It has survived pretty well intact, Farad notes. Its gates are shut, and guarded by more of the Patrol.
You do not tarry, but instead hurry on into the Eastern lands.
It is noontime.
The road climbs slowly out of the river valley as it curves more to the east-northeast. The lands around you are cultivated with ill-kept fields and pastures in which scruffy cattle graze in.
The road is quiet for the next few hours...until you see a large party of people approaching. From a distance it appears to be yet another merchant caravan...but as you get closer you see that they are carrying many banners of blood red, and seem to be escorted by quite a few people wearing the robes of clerics.
"Pilgrims," says the dwarf. "Let's be careful."
"Agreed. Banquo if you're going to attack them on sight, I want to know why before they get here. We don't seem to have a way around." says Illyana.
Banquo grins and says, "As long as you don't get yourself in personal danger no prob. Now if Raz gets attacked I would probably give constructive criticism on technique."
Illyana laughs. "I don't they would approve. Seriously, does anyone know any clerics who wear blood red robes openly?"
Banquo answers, "The robes and banners are used by clerics of Asmodeus. They won't attack unless we start something however they are VERY evil so watch it."
"So we act nice and harmless then?"
You do so...stopping and pulling off to the side of the road to let the procession pass.
It is just as well that you do so, for the more than 100 pilgrims and their escort, with wagons and mounts, takes up the whole thing.
They pass you without incident, though several of the red garbed clerics glare at Sharone in passing. However, the priest bringing up the rear pauses and says, "Thankyou for letting us pass. May Asmodeus favour you."
"Yeah right," mutters McTavish once they are out of earshot.
You continue on your way.
That night you camp near a small river, spanned by an old stone bridge. The river is foul and polluted...you dare not drink from it.
Humphrey is about to go start his watch, "So, McTavish what do we have to look forward to now?"
McTavish strokes his beard. Several moths fly out.
"Been over 30 years since I last came this way," he replies at last. "There's a kobold hold ahead...followed by a town - that's Shruddup, I think. After that the road forks. The Great Western Road turns southeast for awhile before swinging north again. A lesser road continues dead east and eventually meets up with the Great Road again...forming a shortcut.
"After that comes Frawnaford. That's a great ruined city under Imrimil's curse. I hope we can bypass it. Then the Road swings southeast and makes for another big ruined city: Yorkk. Once we're through Yorkk the Road heads east for Kludar: my homeland.
"That's where the fun begins," he concludes. "We have to get through the armies that are stationed along the Nolthen-Kludar border without getting ourselves killed."
Britan chucles when Mctavish mentions fun and armies. "I like your choice of words there McTavish, so out of curiousity what are these armies consisting of? Kobolds, humans, or do you know?"
"Not anymore. They used to be humanoids led by demons. We'll have to do some reccon first."
Sharone as is her custom sets up her small tent and prepares tea for all and sundry.
She prefers early watches as she needs a solid seven or eight hours to properly prepare for the next day.
Ayazin is, of course, very distressed by the state of the river, and spends a long while on the old stone bridge looking down into the foul water. He considers throwing in his sweet water potions, but decides against it. "This river must be healed, but it must be done closer to the source. Otherwise, it will return to its foul state in a matter of days. Tell me, McTavish, does the course of our journey take us any farther upstream, that we might find and eliminate the source of this pollution?"
"Don't look like it," McTavish replies, eyeing the littered river banks.
The river flows down out of the north and continues on more or less southwards. The Great Western Road continues on to the east.
"Probably the Wizard himself that is poluting the river in any case." Farad comments.
"Wizard? You mean Imrimil?" asks Ayazin.
"Could be," agrees McTavish, nodding slowly. "His powers are greatest over the weather, storms and water, I think."
The night passes uneventfully.