The days in Deadwood passed quickly. Adam chose against stepping out of the Adventurer’s Guild. He wasn’t sure how the Countess would respond, especially since rumours would soon spread about him through the town thanks to the knight’s pride, and Adam’s stubbornness.

‘I gave her a way out, and I allowed everyone to step out…’ Adam thought about the matter deeply over days they stayed in Deadwood. ‘She probably wanted to speak with Jurot about the Enchanter. Since I asked Jurot to stay with me, it was awkward for her. Well, you shouldn’t have treated me so poorly when I first came to Deadwood.’

Omen: 9, 13

Once they finished their preparations in Deadwood, they made their way out of the town, following the road which wound around and through the hills, heading eastward towards Hill Grave.

“What’s Hill Grave like?” Adam asked, having heard the name a few times in the background, but it had never come within his focus.

“It is a place of many great warriors,” Jurot began. “A hill town, with a population twice the size of Red Oak or Deadwood. When the Demons came, they laid waste to much of it, but the town fought them away. There was once an Order, but it was dissolved many generations ago, but their descendants became well known as Hillknights. Sir Sygmund the Grave is their greatest warrior.”

“How do they compare with the previous King’s Sword and Knight of Death?” Adam asked.

“Comparable,” Jurot admitted.

Adam whistled. “Damn. Anything special about the town?”

“It is proud of its military tradition,” Jurot said, but he wasn’t sure if that was notably special. “There is a great statue which guards the tomb of a Demon General. It is carved with ancient runes, and will awaken to protect the town.”

“Nice,” Adam whispered.

“Hill Grave was once the home of Ogres, but they were forced away,” Kitool said. “The statue is a statue of an Ogre.”

“Ogre?” Adam asked. “Are there still Ogres on this land?”

“Yes,” Jurot replied, but noted the look from Kitool. He bowed his head, knowing he shouldn’t say more.

“Cool,” Adam replied. “Anything we should be wary of on the way to the town?”

“There are several military outposts on the way to Hill Grave, and we must pay a fee passing through each,” Jurot informed.

“How much?”

“One gold per head. There are three outposts.”

Adam groaned. “Well, shit.”

“We can pay for our own,” Rose said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Adam replied. “As much as we’re travelling together to slay all kind of creatures, we’ll probably part at East Port, unless you’re going to be participating in the tournament?”

“We may.”

“Fair enough.”

The sight of the gate welcomed the group, built between two cliffs, made of thick stone and easily three times as tall as Adam. A dozen guards stood atop the gate, adorned in chain mail, wielding spears. A tan tabard rested against their chests, with a sigil across it, though it was too far in the distance to see.

“Halt!” came a booming voice from afar, magically enhanced so it was clear even a hundred steps away. “State your business!”

“We have come to-,” Adam began.

“Speak up!” the guard exclaimed, before he turned to face the guard at his side, almost smirking.

‘What’s with the guards being a bunch of assholes?’ Adam thought.

“With the might of Mother Soza,” Vonda prayed, placing a hand on Adam’s shoulder. The divine magics filled the Half Elf, as though he was hugged by his mother.

“We are travelling to East Port!” Adam shouted back, his voice booming.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“You have mages with you?”

“Mages, and Priests,” Adam replied.

“Which Priests?”

“To the good Lady Arya and Mother Soza,” Adam shouted.

“Let the Priests approach,” the guard shouted.

Adam nodded to the pair, allowing them to step forward. Sir Vonda stepped forward, with Dunes following her. The guards eyed the pair up as they approached, noting one of them seemed to be a foreigner, considering the design of his armour. It was certainly Aswadian chain, considering the design of the way the links interlocked, and the material, which was not common in these lands.

“An Aswadian?”

“Yes,” Dunes said. “I am from Black Mountain.”

“What’s an Aswadian doing around these parts?”

“He travels within my company,” Vonda said. “I am Sir Vonda Eastlake.”

The guards glanced between one another. “Was that Sir Vonda, from the Eastlake family?”

“Yes.”

The guards straightened up. “Is the entire group accompanying you, my Lady?”

“They are, and I am currently representing my Order,” Sir Vonda said. “Sir Vonda Eastlake, of Life’s Rose.

“As you say, Sir Vonda. Do you vouch for them?”

“I do.”

“We must confirm whether you are truly who you say,” the guard said. “Do you have evidence?”

“I carry only the symbols of my order,” she said, simply. “I do not know if my story has travelled this far west, but I have the scars to prove my identity, if that is enough.”

The guards glanced across the group. “We will send word ahead that you claim to be Sir Vonda Eastlake, of the Order of Life’s Rose. The guards at the town will confirm your identity.”

“Understandable.”

The Priests returned to the party, before they made their way forward. The guards were still unsure of the group.

“The gate fee is a gold for each head,” a guard said, sending down a dumbwaiter.

“The steeds are magical,” Sir Vonda said, referring to the two giant elks.

“Of course, Sir Vonda,” a guard said.

‘Man, we’re losing so much gold,’ Adam thought.

The gates opened for the group, and they followed the path towards the fort, two guys following them from the top of the hills on either side of them. There were a set of half walls built which provided some protection for them, but there was another one hundred steps or so until the main fort, which overlooked them.

“We would typically offer nobles stay within the walls, but we cannot in this situation,” a guard from above said.

“I understand,” Sir Vonda said. “We thank you for your assistance.”

The group set up camp outside the walls. Adam was about to begin chanting his spell, when he realised he didn’t want to die.

“Sir Vonda…” Adam called, whispering the situation to her.

“We would like to summon a tower so that we may bathe in peace,” Sir Vonda said. “Would you deny us this right?”

The guards glanced between one another. “You can summon your tower near the outer walls.”

“Thank you.”

Adam sighed, glad that they had a noble with them in times like this. ‘Sir Vonda, you are the best, truly.’

The treatment the party received was roughly the same going forward, with them not being able to enter the outposts, apparently due to their size. The guards kept a watchful eye on the group as they rested during the nights, but Adam expected as much. After losing roughly a hundred gold, they arrived at Hill Grave.

It was a much larger town, easily twice the size of Red Oak and Deadwood. It was set within the rough hills, with several distinct levels, while some of the town wrapping around the hills out of sight. Adam could see a number of large buildings even from where he was, spotting several statues within the city too.

He whistled. “Nice.”

The group approached the gates, which shook open, revealing a group of heavily armoured guards. They each wore plate mail, and carried large weapons, from pikes to blades. Their armour was the colour of sand, their cloaks a deep grey. The guard at the centre was taller than the others, and wore an amulet with the symbol of Lady Arya against his chest, a blade in front of a crown.

“A Hillknight,” Jurot whispered, while motioning for the group to stop.

The knight stepped forward, the six warriors beside him marching in step with him, before he stopped about fifteen paces ahead of the large group. He pulled off his helmet to reveal handsomely rugged face, with a beard no more than a week old, and sharp eyes which dared them to act up. Adam placed him to be in his late forties.

“I am Sir Garad, Third Hillknight,” he said, his voice full of authority. “I ask Sir Vonda Eastlake to step forward.”

Vonda did as he commanded, taking off her helmet to reveal her face, though the lower half was covered by the scarf. “My face was burnt when I was young, so I will not remove my scarf.”

“I ask that you do not resist the spell we are to cast,” Sir Garad said. “Zone of Truth.”

“I will not.”

The Hillknight held his amulet and chanted the words to his spell. Sir Vonda remained still, allowing the spell to take her. “Are you Sir Vonda Eastlake, member of the Order of Life’s Rose.”

“Yes,” she replied.

Sir Garad waited for a moment, thinking about how to proceed. “Do you trust your companions?”

“I trust the Iyrmen, and many of the companions at my side,” Sir Vonda said.

“Who is the leader of the party?”

“That would be Adam Fateson, the man in the puthral plate mail.”

“How long have you known them?”

“I have known them for at least a year. I met them the nightval before the previous nightval.”

“Why are you travelling in such a large group?”

“We are currently travelling to East Port, partaking in the rights afforded to us this year after the Great Twilight, but they seem to wish to participate in the Noonval Tournament of East Aldland. We passed by Deadwood, assisting Darkknight Kanna with some dangerous beasts.”

The Hillknight dropped the spell, bowing his head. “I apologise for the inconvenience, Sir Vonda Eastlake of Life’s Rose.”

“I understand,” Sir Vonda replied, bowing her head in return.

“We have long respected the Order of Life’s Rose within Hill Grave.”

“And we have always respected the mighty warriors of Hill Grave.”

“Allow me to escort your group,” Sir Garad said.

“That is greatly appreciated.”

‘Well, that was easy…’ Adam thanked Sir Vonda in his heart, glad that the party fund would be able to survive the journey.