64: The Midden Moors

So, it turned out that the landlord of the Blazing Sun was a halfling. Lemon Rustic. We hadn’t noticed, partly because he had been standing on a stool on the other side of the bar, and partly because the food in the place wasn’t very good. Why a halfling landlord would let an inept human do the food in his place, I don’t know. But, as I was to learn, quite soon, making meals for people is a lot more complex than it looks, and fraught with danger.

Anyway, only Ursula had succumbed to the poor hygiene at the Blazing Sun. She wasn’t well enough to travel the next day, and as we had already waited around for her in Altdorf, while she got a medal or whatever it was from the witch catchers, I wasn’t inclined to allow us to wait around in Carroburg.

I had been a bit scathing, I think, of Kurtis and Erhardt, and even Solvej, as they vied for what they called the leadership of the group. It had all been a bit unedifying and petty, to my mind. But now, this was my mission, and I was expected to lead it. Leadership seemed to be a lot like my cooking, there was a lot more to it than I had imagined, there was the potential for disaster, it involved balancing a lot of different ingredients, and it left a nasty taste in my mouth.

So Lemon Rustic recommended ‘eggs and breakfast’ for breakfast. Apparently, this was, like Carroburg Cake, a local delicacy. And despite Ursula being tied to the latrine, after the previous evening’s meal, we ordered it. Eggs and breakfast was fried eggs, with the yolk removed and mixed with shallots, and pickles, and spices, and reintroduced to the egg white. I’ve no idea why it has such a strange name, and I didn’t ask. I’ve no idea why Lemon Rustic has such a strange name, and I didn’t ask. I didn’t even ask Joey Salamander at the Order of the Chalice (I’m a member).

After breakfast I had a look at the map I hadn’t stolen from the temple library, and to be honest, the Midden Moors just looked like a big hole in the forest with a few roughly drawn lakes in it. And I had to try to find this tower, that I had imagined, somewhere in it. I didn’t really know how to go about that. I had the vague idea that I would just walk along and see a bit I recognised from my vision, and take it from there. But now we were far away from Altdorf, and the safety of the temple library, it seemed a bit too hopeful.

I told Kurtis that I was thinking we should just turn around and go back to Altdorf. But he said that it would be alright, and that he believed I would be a decent leader. Which was nice of him, but I couldn’t help thinking he was only saying that so that when I failed, he’d be able to say he was better than me like he had on Erhardt’s journey to Middenheim. So, I took the decision that we would head to Dullen, which was the last settlement before the moors.

It took us most of the day but we got there. It drizzled nearly all day, and although we had our new tents, we decided that as this was the last bit of civilisation before the wilderness, we would spend the night at the Mill Inn. The inn seemed surprisingly pleasant, considering what a dump the town was, and how bleak it looked on the edge of the moors. I said we should try to get on with the locals as we would probably need a local guide to help us across the moors.

Otto caught some rats for the landlords, but I think something happened, because he came back with one and a half rats, so only got one and a half pints. He had also promised to make a taxidermy rat for Eloise’s birthday, so he set to work scraping out one of the rats on the inn table, using the inn’s cutlery, next to some patrons having their meal. It put them off their food, but when they complained, Kurtis stepped in and suggested they move tables, but they were so intimidated by him they just left the inn. So much for getting on with the locals.

I’m not sure Kurtis should have bothered, anyway, because the end result of Otto’s handiwork was crap. The rat he had made for me, which I still have, was quite good and some of the others were ok, too. The one he had made for Erhardt was a bit shit, but the rat-Eloise was really shit. Really, really shit.

Kurtis spotted a couple of blokes in the corner who were playing flutes, and they looked a bit outdoors-y so he went up to chat with them about music. He seemed to be getting on ok with them but, as is often the case with Kurtis, there was a bit of an edge. They even had a dispute over who had the best tattoo. The pair were brothers, and as Otto pointed out, the eldest was really good looking. And he was the better musician and seemed to be dominating the conversation. Kurtis didn’t really like that, so he decided that we would hire the youngest.

This didn’t make much sense to me, we needed the eldest, most experienced to guide us, but that’s Kurtis. And so I interviewed him a bit, but didn’t really know what to ask. He didn’t seem that confident in his abilities anyway, but at the behest of Kurtis, I gave him the job of leading us across the moors for three days, for eight shillings, ten if we found the tower. He seemed pleased with the deal until he realised that he would also need to spend three days getting back again. He was called Meinhard, but Kurtis was quick to call him Meiny, which he pretended was just being friendly, but I think it was to show him who was boss.

During the evening, Kurtis showed Erhardt some of the coins he had stolen from Eloise. Erhardt reckoned they were a mix of Tilean and Dwarvish gold and bronze that were worth around 30 to 60 crowns, although I’ve no idea how he would know something like that. He asked where Kurtis had got them and Kurtis told him he had just been going through some of the stuff in his house and had found them there. I’m not sure Erhardt believed him, but he suggested he would be able to sell them at Uhlmann’s in Altdorf. He could get Eloise to introduce him there. But Kurtis told him that he didn’t want anyone to know he was selling stuff and would rather get rid of it on the quiet in Carroburg, on the way back. Sometimes he sounds quite plausible.

The inn was pleasant enough, and the lamb stew was good. Otto couldn’t convince Kurtis to let him share his room, and so he bought his own room for the night, and let me sleep there, too. Before we went to sleep, I told him I was having doubts about the expedition, and that I didn’t think I was up to the leadership challenge. He said that I didn’t need to lead as Shallya would be leading through me. Which was nice of him. He said that Shallya’s moonbeams would light the way, and when I said that it was too overcast and rainy to even see the moon, he pointed out that it was always there, even when you couldn’t see it, just like Shallya. Sometimes, he really is a croissant.

Erhardt and Konrad were sleeping in the common room. They didn’t bother mentioning this until later, but one of the other guests in the common room tried to snatch some of our equipment. Erhardt doesn’t have the greatest record of keeping guard, but he managed to spot this guy, and frightened him into behaving. Konrad kept an eye on him most of the night, while the thief pretended to be asleep.

The evening was surprisingly chilly, and in the morning it was overcast and drizzling, as it probably had been all night. Meiny was outside, obediently waiting for us. Although we had all got four days’ rations from Aunt Clara, and Konrad had got himself twelve days’, we were three days into our expedition and hadn’t even reached the moors yet. So, everyone else decided to buy a load more rations from the Mill. I didn’t buy any, I had faith that I had enough food on me. What was the worst that could happen?

So we loaded up Buttercup, and set off. Meiny didn’t really know where to go, and I didn’t really know where I wanted him to go. I think we just headed vaguely across the moors and trusted to Shallya. It tipped down the whole day. Everyone was wet through, except for some reason Erhardt looked like he was keeping perfectly dry. My new boots were doing the job and my feet were dry, but everything else was sopping.

I’m not sure what Meiny made of us, but he was happy just being paid, I think. He wanted to hear some stories of our adventures, but Kurtis just wanted to tell him about all the women he’d whatevered, especially the noble ones. Otto offered to tell the story of the first rat he’d caught, but no one was interested in that. It was probably more attractive than Kurtis’ first women, though. Meiny seemed to want to talk about his brother a lot, which Kurtis didn’t like. And when he asked Kurtis whether he had any siblings, Kurtis did say he had a brother once, but he lost him, which is one way of putting it.

At the end of a tedious day’s travel, in the rain, not really sure whether we were even going in the right direction, we made camp on the edge of the forest, overlooking the moors. We hadn’t even got to the moors proper, after four days’ travel. Konrad and Meiny foraged about for food and found some sort of bird, some nettles, and some wild garlic. As the leader of the party I felt like it was down to me to cheer everyone up a bit by making a nice meal. Afterall, how hard could it be?

It wasn’t long before we were all chatting over a nice bowl of hot soup. Having Meiny there, I think brought to mind Gudrun, and we reminisced about the old days and how his death seemed to lead to a series of events that eventually led to Gulgad’s death, too. And I resolved that we should look after Meiny a lot better than we had looked after Gudrun.

It turned out, making soup was a lot harder than I thought, and a few minutes after eating the meal everyone was feeling ill. Meiny disappeared to be sick and then went to his tent. Erhardt and Otto seemed particularly affected. I’m not really sure what I did wrong, maybe the bird was off, or something.

As night fell we were all feeling terrible, but it soon got worse. We began to hear, or not hear, strange chittering sounds that were barely audible, and occasionally they would become screeching. And we could feel the beating of wings. Then something knocked Erhardt’s big wizard’s hat off his head and some screeching creatures flew down and attacked him. Erhardt darted one of them out of the sky and it fell into the fire and writhed around in the embers. It was a huge bat, looking mad and perhaps diseased.

Konrad lit his lantern to get a better look, but he was soon beset by the bats. He fell to the ground, seriously wounded, and dropped his lantern. Meiny was attacked, too, and was hurt. Otto, a creature of the darkness, himself, had the idea that they were being attracted by the light of the fire, so I quickly doused the flames with the remains of my soup. I don’t think anyone wanted second helpings, in any case. Otto put Konrad’s lantern out, and in the darkness, the bats soon dispersed.

I had a look at Konrad’s wounds and although the bats were relatively small their wounds seemed nasty and inflamed. I managed to patch him up, though. And Otto saw to Meiny’s wounds, even though he said he was ok. I’ve tried to teach Otto the fundamentals of good healing practice, and there is a school of thought within the cult of Shallya that dead rat taxidermy tools should be kept separate from medical equipment. Anyway, Meiny went back to his tent to sleep it off.

With the fire out it got very cold, and so we headed off to bed, with Konrad on first watch. Konrad and Erhardt brought Buttercup into their tent to warm it up a bit. Not really sure whether I would have preferred to cuddle up to Otto and Kurtis, or a mule. Anyway, we managed to fall asleep listening to the sound of wolves howling in the distance.

I think we mostly got a decent night’s sleep. But I was troubled by a vision. I dreamt that I saw a dove flying, but it was somehow ill and had festering wounds. And its eyes were diseased and swollen. Then the dove landed, and I could see it was limping, then a snake appeared and killed it. And then I woke up.

Wizards don’t have the same sort of visions as me, but in the morning Erhardt was also looking a bit pensive at the embers of the fire, for some reason.

And we woke Meiny up, but he was looking in a really bad way. I checked the dressing Otto had made and it had bits of rat fur in it, and the wound seemed to be festering. I’m not saying it’s Otto’s fault. Modern medical theory is constantly changing and it’s hard to keep up with all the new ideas, like not using the rags you mop up dead rats with for dressing wounds. In any case, I think I should have paid more attention to what he was doing and led more by example. Together with the cooking, and the responsibilities of my new Shallyan order this leadership thing was beginning to feel like a poisoned chalice.