Back to the Ruins

1206, Summer

Etienne was pleased when Eudes, the cobbler's son from Venosc appeared at the villge one day seeking to set up shop. Arrangements were made and soon he was plying his trade.

In the middle of August, Guillaume arrived at Lakehome. He brought the new from the region a few bits which were of particular interest to the magi and inhabitants. First, he had tracked down one of the Merinita magi that Lilia and Leporideas had wanted to speak to, and invited her to come to Lakehome. Secondly, a body had washed up on the riverbank near Bourg-d'Oisans, it was a farmer who had gone missing a few days before and he was all swollen and puffed up as if he had been soaked in poison ivy or stung repeatedly by some venomous creature.

	*		*		*		*

"I did not come at a bad time, did I?"

"No, not at all,' replied Etienne reaching for his gear. "What weighs upon your mind?"

"There were many strange things from our trip to Grenoble that I have to consider. The Bishop and the Countess. Conrad's sudden attitude toward me. But the one thing that sticks out in my mind... those ruins. I have seen some strange things, made easier to understand after spending time with the magi of Lakehome. I have not seen anything quite like that." Alain paused before saying, "I've considered going back out there to investigate."

Etienne squinted into the setting sun and took a seat. "As for the Bishop and Countess, I leave that for those who care about such things. The ruins however," he trailed off. "I would support a closer look, something happened there beyond the normal. When did you propose to leave?"

"It will take me a day or two to see that the defenses are minded while I'm away. I thought we might also enlist one of the magi if one had free time. Considering what we saw, a priest might not be a bad idea either."

"Agreed. There is much to do before we leave. I can ask Brother Antoine, will you inquire as of a magi?" Etienne was not sure of Brother Antoine's desire to travel, but he would be much easier to ask than the magi, despite gaining acceptance from them he still felt uncomforable in their midst.

Alain nodded and bid Etienne farewell. As he walked back up the trail, it occurred to him that he was in a bit of a bind. Normally he would ask Lilia. Yet, he wanted to avoid moving with an entourage. She would also be busy dealing with the Bishop's request. Leporideas might be a better candidate, but Alain had thought he was busy working out a solution to the fae problem. The only other that he was close enough to approach was le Main-d'Argent. Alain had not seen him outside his own rooms much and did not know where to start.

He had no choice, he decided as he walked back into the village, but to speak with Osprey and see whom he might suggest for the voyage. Out of respect, Alain sent word through one of the servants before returning to his small home to clean up. There he waited for word.

It was an hour or so later when Osprey knocked on the door. "I was in the middle of a delicate process," he said by way of explanation, "but a break will do me good. What did you wish to speak with me about?" Osprey plopped down on a stool.

"On our trip to Grenoble, we came across a ruin that local bandits had been using as a staging ground. It is several days travel from here, so they never posed a direct danger to us. It was something the locals had been dealing with and I think it even became something of an issue for Bishop Alain. Even though he will shortly be exerting his will over our own village here, I would normally say this was none of our concern."

Alain pour two small glasses of wine and offered one to Osprey. "Things transpired there before our arrival that I think make it our concern now. The handful of men who had been there were dead. Some swallowed by the very ground itself. With everything that is happening recently... Frederick's home destroyed, demonic horsemen, and a member of the church asking for enchanted items.... I thought it best at the time we encountered the ruin to move along on our business. The last thing we needed was to have someone injured or killed before the meeting with Bishop Alain. As I've had time to reflect on it, I'd like to go investigate the scene further.

"I've spoken with Etienne and he has agreed to join me. He is a good man and knows a thing or two about trailcraft. As the incident was clearly of supernatural origin, I thought it wise if one of the magi of Lakehome accompanied us. I just don't know who might be the best candidate to go along. I was hoping to move in as small a group as possible so as to limit attention from whomever or whatever did this thing. So it occurred to me to speak with you as you would best know who might be of assistance in this."

Osprey listened with interest, then sighed, "I would love to go myself, but my work is at a delicate stage. I'll put it to the junior magi. If no one volunteers, then," he smiled, "a volunteer will be found anyway."

As plans were made for the trip, Etienne began to worry about Antoine's health and he approached Alain to voice his concerns, although he was willing to defer to the knight as to whether Antoine's presence would be paramount.

Alain listened as he packed most of his worldly possessions into the small bag. Ironic, he thought, that he practically had to pack his entire home in order to travel. The idea struck something in the back of his mind and he knew he'd have to think about that soon.

"I would offer him the use of my horse, but I'm afraid the ride would be just as rough as a walk. I'm afraid he was trained for fighting not comfort. If our good priest cannot make the journey, perhaps he knows of someone trustworthy in the area we might call upon if the need arises."

Etienne nodded and went to finalize his packing and tell Antoine that while he would be missed, it was understandable that he could not make the trip. Hopefully, as Alain mentinoed, Antoine would know a trustworthy man of God that they could call upon should his services be needed.

Antoine told him, somewhat wistfully, that the perfecti wandered a good deal. Etienne got the impression that Antoine felt guilty for spending so much time at Lakehome. "If you need me, I will come," he said. "My gout has not yet laid me for good."

Etienne admired the man and his sense of duty, "It is not only your health that concerns me; it is your safety as well. I am not convinced that you will not be captured."

"That would be as God wills," he said.

Later, Frederic sought out Alain and told him that he would be accompanying them on the trip. Alain nodded and the two met with Etienne.

"I don't know if Brother Antoine should come along," Alain said to Etienne. "I'd feel more comfortable with him there, but I worry about his health."

"Aye," agreed the unusual fisherman.

"I do think it would be appropriate to see him on our way out to ask for a blessing," Alain said.

Frederic seemed excited by the thought. He had never been blessed by the enemies of his enemies before. "Do you think he would bless me to?" Frederic asked Alain.

"I suspect he would if you asked for the Lord's Blessing," Alain replied.

"The lord," Frederic asked. "I think I shall ask him then. Is there any special why to ask?"

Alain gave Frederic a strange look before a quirky smile lit his face. "I usually say that I seek the Lord's Blessing. You've... you've not spent a lot of time outside of a workshop, have you?"

Frederic smiled back. "Actually, I have travelled so much, I have had little opportunity to learn. All I remember of the ways of the Lord is from my parents when I was very young."

"The cause is different, but the effect is the same," Alain said. "Don't worry. It shouldn't hurt much. If we are all ready?"

The little group met in the guesthouse, where Antoine was once again living. They had told him their business and their wish, and Antoine greeted them all seriously before delivering a short sermon. Clearly his heart was not in it, and all of them save Frederic who had never come to hear him preach, could see that something was troubling him; his usual eloquence deserted him and his parables fell flat. Finally, he stopped. "It is clear," he said. "I must go with you. The Lord will aid me to make this journey."

"Brother Antoine, I do not propose to question the will of the Lord, but we had thought to cut across the woods to save some time. The journey will not be easy, even if we take the roads. Are you sure that you are up for this?" Alain was genuinely concerned. He had not known the priest long, but had grown to respect and admire the man.

"I can travel," he said. "The woods ...," he looked a little daunted, "the woods shall be fine. In my youth," he said looking back from his ancient position in his late thirties, "I walked for days without pausing but to eat and sleep. I can manage." Having made the decision, his spirits were visibly lighter.

		*		*		*		*

Frederic was unsure what an investigate aid he might be. But he hoped to be an effective spell caster if the troupe got into trouble. And he hoped to learn more of the area by travelling.

No one seemed to have any ideas much beyond that, it seemed.

They reached the Veneon and turned left to follow the southern bank. Progress was slow with the fat and gouty cleric along, but he told stories and parables to pass the time and was in high spirits.

Even so, at noon on their second day of travel, the crested a hill and saw the smoke of the bakeries and forges of Bourg-d'Oisans rising but a few miles away across the river. Etienne took his bearings and decided they could reach the ruins by nightfall if they desired.

"We should camp before we get there. I'd rather not pitch a tent in a place that might take exception to my presence," Alain said.

Etienne, knowing the place to be a safe haven (at least it used to be) for those who operated on the other side of the law agreed. "Despite what happened near there, it is best that we approach it with care and plenty of sunlight."

Frederic agreed, "Sunlight would be preferable."

"And I could use a rest," said Antoine with a forced smile.

Camp was made and a small smokeless fire laid. They had some brought some food from Lakehome and Etienne had seen some berries nearby that they could gather to augment their meal. They sat around the fire for a little while after dark then retired.

So it was that at noon the next day, they broke out of the woods and found themselves at the slope leading to the ruins. The ruins were on a small hill with a gentle rise on the south and eastern slopes, and steep on the north and west. In the north west corner was a mound of earth or a hummock on which a variety of ground cover plants grew.

From the two ends of the hummock ruined walls extended to the east for some twenty paces enclosing floor which had once been paved but which now showed a mix of open earth and paving stones. Some of the stones had long since been pried up and arranged to make a firepit. The north eastern corner of the enclosed area still enough of a corner to allow branches to be placed across the two walls and make a rough shelter. The firepit was just a few steps away from this corner.

Alain whispered to Etienne, "Would you like to scout around first? Or should we head in?"

"This time of day should be safe," replied Etienne, "but your concerns are warranted." Silently, the fisherman edged out to survey the campsite for anything unusual.

The place did not seem to have been inhabited since the last time they saw it. The bodies of the bandits had been picked over by the scavengers of the forest but no new bodies had been added. The firepit was cold and had begun to grow over with vegetation at the edges.

Etienne waved and the rest of the party came forward.

"Please proceed with caution," Alain said. "We are looking for any sign of what may have happened here. We know these men were bandits and had been using the ruins as a shelter. Beyond that, we don't have anything. You will see by the placement of the bodies that something beyond the natural was responsible."

As they approached, Alain took the leather retaining strap from his sword but did not draw it. He began to sweep the ground with his eyes, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Occasionally, he will look around, as if something else had drawn his attention.

A body lay crumpled in the corner under the shelter, it was months dead. It was clad as one would expect a brigand to be, in rough leather serving as armour, and with a sword near to hand. The bones were visible in the chest and cracked. Alain recalled that earlier, when the wounds were fresh, had thought a sword or axe had made the wound. The condition of the bones reinforced his belief.

Parts of at least two more brigands were scattered about the fire, dismembered fully and tossed about in a fury. A little further east were two more men, mired in the earth. They faced the mound and one had lost his head completely, it was resting a few feet away in a small depression.

The other looked as though he had been stabbed from behind. Alain still thought it looked like the second man had beheaded the first while both were mired.

Visible in the side of the hummock was part of a bone, a human leg bone Alain noted, which rain or human hands had exposed.

Frederic approached the camp sight when the all-clear signal was given. He visually inspected each of the bodies and decided to cast magics on the brigand in the corner of the shelter.

Frederic summoned the arts of Intelligo and Corpus seeking to learn the cause of death. Neither art was his speciality, and perhaps that is why they careened out of control. Frederic felt something grab hold of his magic and begin to drain it away. He fought to cut off the connection and succeeded but not without effort. Strangely, the connection had told him something about the place. There was a strong sense of presence here, a presence no longer living. He did not think it was the bandit, though.

Frederic stammered back for a moment, as if to faint, but was able to remain conscious. He shook his head a bit and appeared to be tired. "I saw... I felt... something," he struggled for the right words. "A presence. Perhaps a ghost. I am not sure." He searched about for a rock or a log to sit on for a moment.

"Are you saying the bandits woke something?" Alain asked.

"Very possible, " Frederic responded. "Or perhaps something already awoke did not like their presence here. Likewise, maybe its just coincindence, and that whomever killed them, was alive and mundane. Perhaps it was merely whatever authority patrols the area. But maybe it would be prudent if we did not camp here tonight. Although before we leave, I do have more magics I could try. But such a measure may not be worth the risk. Would the knowledge gained be important?" Frederic asked.

"If there is a spirit here, it might be a danger to the surrounding towns. We should try to understand it to see if it is someone who should be laid to rest. Someone deserving a Christian burial," Alain said.

"I can perhaps attempt to discover if there is a certain kind of aura in the area. But I do not believe I could speak with a dead presence." Frederic said. "Perhaps inquiries into nearby towns might be prudent? Perhaps we can learn something by word of mouth?" Frederic asked.

Antoine indicated the bandits, "These poor souls at the very least should be buried."

"They were bandits, father," said Etienne.

"Indeed, and therefore more indeed of prayer and forgiveness than most," said the priest. "I do not think this place is evil, though," he said, "for all its pagan look."

Out of ideas, Frederic shrugged. "I cannot tell what kind of presence may be here," he said. "Perhaps the nearby towns or villages may have poeple that know some history of the area?"

"We can ask," commented Etienne, "yet many believe this place to already be haunted. It keeps prying eyes away and makes it attractive to the bandits."

"There is one other thing we can do," Alain said as he walked back to his pack. "We can start digging."

Etienne did a double take and then removed his cloak and belt, beginning to roll up his sleeves. "It is good that Lady Lilia did not accompany us, after all."

Antoine looked for a place to sit, "I cannot help with this. We should free these, too." He indicated the bandits mired in the dirt. "And bury them all." He got to his feet and went to the ones aboveground in the corner and bowed his head, speaking Latin prayers in a low voice.

"We all help in our own way," Alain told the priest. To the group, "We should deal with the bandits first. Let's leave that mound until last."

"Where shall we bury them?" Antoine wondered. He found a spot outside of the ruins that seemed likely and suggested it.

By late afternoon, the new grave was dug and the bodies of the bandits laid into it. As Antoine prayed, the other four took turns shoveling the dirt on top of them. "Sometime I should return with a marker for the grave," Antoine commented.

After a short rest, they returned to the mound.

Alain proved to be a hard worker, shouldering much of the heavy digging and lifting. Without a word, he began on the remaining mound, trying to free the skeleton. He crossed himself and said a quick, silent prayer before laying his first shovel stroke.

Working quickly, the four younger men began to strip the dirt from off the bones. The skeleton did seem to be laid out as one would expect from the position of the visible leg. As they worked, they found that parts of it were still clothed in bits of rag and around the wrists were heavy bracelets of gold.

Finally the whole skeleton was clear. As Frederic flipped the last bit of dirt free, leaving the skeleton lying on shelf of dirt, a miasma suddenly began to rise from the bones.

Alain crossed himself and looked to where his sword belt lay. He backed a step or two away from the remains, but did not go for his weapon.

The miasma quickly began to take on the form of a man, lying in the same position as the skeleton beneath it.

Frederic backed up quickly. But he was not suprised at the formation of the apparition. He fumbled through his backpack, searching for his two orbs, in case the spirit was dangerous.

The others stepped back as well and Antonio lurched to his feet, murmurming, "Deus Meus!"

In seconds the figure was fully formed and began to rise to face the company. It was man of full years, richly but barbarically dressed carrying a sword and a round shield. He was shouting as he rose. The language was strange and ancient sounding and no one knew it, but Etienne and Antoine with a wider knowledge of languages caught the odd word here and there, enough to get the gist. The words they caught were things like "theif" and "kill" and they thought a name and title, Iarla Mryddn.

Etienne looked to Antoine, "What is this about a 'thief' and 'kill'? Who is Iarla Mryddn?"

"I think he is," said Antoine.

Then there was no more time for words. The ghost shouted again about thieves, and stepped toward the party and around them the earth suddenly became soft and muddy. Etienne and Tonio, the grog, leapt clear as the earth changed, but Alain, Antoine and Frederic were knee deep in the mud now.

Etienne called out, choosing his words carefully so that whatever language barrier existed could hopefully be breached, "There are no thieves here now, only changed hearts remain! Peace has come."

Although it may not have been quite what he hoped, his words did have the effect of drawing the revenant toward him and away from his mired companions. "Lies," shouted the apparition. It's words were now sounding a bit more like modern French. Tonio looped around came to join Etienne as the ghost attacked. "You are here to steal," it said. Etienne drew his swords to defend himself and saw his tentative attack slide off the ghostly shield of his foe. He was able to deflect the spectral sword in return. Tonio slammed his sword into the apparition's back and it bounced off with no visible harm done.

Alain tossed his sword belt clear of the mud and fought to get himself out. He had no intention of being entombed as the brigands had been.

Frederic looked around then dug a small wooden want out of his pouch. A tree near the wall began to twist down toward the three mired men as Etienne and Tonio engaged the foe.

The spirit was by now shouting in a mix of Latin, French and Italian and all the men could understand him well enough. He turned to Tonio and commanded, "Serve me!"

The grog stiffened for a moment then replied, "Aye, Lord."

"Destroy those thieves," said the spirit, "while I destroy this one."

Tonio turned toward the three mired men and began to walk toward them.

Etienne rang a blow off the creature with no effect but was able to turn the blade that came at him in return.

"He is possessed!" screamed Etienne to the others to warn them of Tonio's intentions. Etienne continued to parry the spirit's blows and instinctively called out "Help me," to the heavens for how was he to harm such a creature?

Alain pulled free and had his sword out in time to fend Tonio off for a moment. The grog stood his ground and said in Italian, "You shall not despoil this ground." Antoine translated quick for Alain and looked to Frederic who simply vanished before his eyes.

Etienn slipped left, and slipped on a rock and the creature's weapon smashed through his defenses opening a painful gash on his chest. At the same moment, images flooded his mind. If they stayed here, he was sure, they would all perish.

The gashed burned deep and Etienne staggered back, "We must leave, if we are to survive," called out through the pain. Defensively, he tried to keep the spirit at bay as he made his way over to Antoine to assist him out of the area.

With both hands, Frederic grabbed for Tonio's sword arm, to prevent him from swinging. He slipped in the muck and fell to one knee miring himself further.

Alain kept Tonio at bay as Etienne backpedalled and went on the defensive. The branches Frederic had bent down were nearer now and Antoine grabbed one and began to pull himself laboriously out of the mud.

Alain tried not to hurt Tonio as he fought to defend himself. However, the grog would owe Alain a new scabbard when all was said and done. He struck at Tonio's arm with the still sheathed weapon, having not had time to even draw it before he was assaulted. Alain's aim was to strike the arm hard to jar the weapon free. He hoped to catch the point on the wrist that made the feeling leave the hand.

"Brother Antoine. Is this a normal part of 'laying to rest?'"

Antoine gasped and huffed, barely able to get out the word, "No."

Alain nodded, then jabbed the point of his sheathed weapon home. Tonio lost his grip on his weapon and it dropped to the ground.

Tonio backed off, now that he was unarmed, and drew his dagger. It looked frail next to Alain's sword, but clearly he felt it was better than nothing. Tonio's sword lifted from the ground with no visible agency but Tonio had "seen" Frederic beneath a Veil of Invisibility before and he did not panic, merely retreated another step or two.

Antoine pulled himself out of the mud and began to lumber away down the hill in response to Etienne's call of the moment before.

Alain shifted his stance, suddenly concerned more with the floating sword than the dagger-wielding grog. "This place is possessed of many spirits," he said.

Antoine stumbled out of the ruins, with Etienne covering his retreat. The spirit or ghost took one last swing at Etienne and then turned to head back toward Alain, Tonio and Frederic. Alain had forced Tonio back and the grog was looking around him for a better weapon as the disembodied sword floated over to the edge of the muck and then out. Alain felt himself cornered until he heard words come out of the air above the floating sword. "Alain! It is I, Frederic."

A roar of rage came from the spirit and Alain and Frederic saw a skeletal arm thrust out of the side of the mound and another monster began to claw its way free of the earth.

Frederic covered one of the retreating group's flanks, with Tonio's sword in hand. "Follow me, Tonio!" he commanded. He then turned his sight to the ghost and spoke. "We do not wish to rob you," he said in Provencal, " spirit from beyond. And I see not a treasure to be robbed. We only wish to retreat with our lives and the life of our companion, Tonio. Please allow us to withdraw peacfully. In return, perhaps we can right whatever has been wronged here?" Frederic prepared to defend the group and would swing at whatever skeleton or zombie drew too near.

Alain and Frederic fell back toward where Etienne and Antoine waited slightly down the hill from the ruins. Tonio neither accompanied nor pursued them and said not a word. The spirit, if spirit it was, came toward them and harried them down and away, and was soon joined by the decayed warrior from the mound.

Once the party was off the ruins, the spirit seemed calmer, though still enraged. It settled down to Langue d'Oc, which even Alain could mostly understand, although the occasional word in another language slipped in. "Right the wrong? Why did you disturb my bones?"

Frederic responded, "We only wished to bury what remains. You seem ill at rest, as if some account needed settling. But if this is not the case, then I would only ask for Tonio," Frederic pointed to Tonio, "to be released so that we may safely depart from this place."

"My body should not be above the ground, nor should my goods be disturbed," said the ancient warrior. "This one ... shall serve as long as he wills."

Etienne whispered to Antoine, "The creature called us thieves. Could something have been taken from him?" Fully aware of the current use of the ruins, Etienne knew that such a reputation as a hideaway couldn't have been built upon this creature slaying every brigand who spent the night.

Tonio spoke in Italian, "Master Frederic, this place feels ... right to me. I know his anger and it is righteous."

"Tonio, do you remember what happened when we found Mistress Katerina, last?" Frederic asked.

Tonio nodded.

"What happened next, Tonio?" Frederic asked.

"Many things," said Tonio, obviously confused by this line of questioning.

The spirit spoke again, "Do no disturb us again. My wrath shall fall on all who rouse my spirit." For a moment, somehow, the ghost seemed old, "I wish to rest. Come, Tonio."

Frederic spoke to the rest in a hushed and quick voice. "He can not recount a recent event. He is not himself. He is being controlled. I shall not abandon my companion. And this lying, trecherous ghost seems weakened. I fear he will attempt to regenerate." Frederic waiting for the rest to respond.

"It is powerful within the ruins," Alain observed. "It could kill us all. What do you propose?"

Frederic responded, "I am not sure. I agree a direct assault would be foolish. Perhaps I can stall him further."

Etienne spoke the only thing that came to his mind, "With respect to you Brother Antoine, could the Bishop help? The Church can deal with spirits such as this, can they not?"

Frederic whispered, "I fear if we leave, Tonio will become one more corpse with which this spirit can defend with."

Antoine meanwhile had considered Etienne's question and whispered back. "He is not Christian, a Christian burial would mean nothing to him. I ..." he looked confused, "I could only pray for his rest."

Frederic raised his voice such that Tonio could hear. "Tonio, wait. Pray tell, why is the warrior spirit angry?"

Tonio paused and turned, "His rest has been disturbed. We dug up his bones." He flashed a smile, "That would make me quite angry as well."

Frederic continue to stall for time. "You believe he is an honorable warrior, then, Tonio?" Frederic asked.

Tonio frowned a moment, "Yes, I do."

Frederic turned his sight to the ghost. "Then why does he not allow all of us to leave peacefully?" Frederic asked.

"You despoil my bones," cried the ghost. "What recompense do you offer."

"What would you have us do, other than take Tonio's life? We could bury you deep if you wish," Frederic offered. "But know this. It would be dishonorable for us to abandon our companion. If you truly are an honorable warrior, then you would understand this." Frederic insisted, as his stance began to tense up.

"His death serves no use," said the ghost.

"We offer what every true warrior deserves after his death: a proper burial instead of being stuffed beneath a mound of dead leaves. A chance for you to rest and receive your accolades in the Hereafter." Alain had sheathed his sword. "That is all we came to do to begin with."

The ghost paused, and swung his spectral head to face Alain. "Proper burial. Yessss. And my grave goods." He pointed his sword at Alain. "Where? How?"

Frederic began to relax at this point.

"If those things you were buried with have been taken, we will need to gather them. Do you know what is missing?" Alain asked.

The ghost's eyes took on a far away look, "A ring of gold, and my curse has fallen on the theif." The ghost looked at them, "and you are not bearing that curse."

"How will we know the thief? The curse?" Alain asked.

Frederic was compelled to leave this part of the negotiation up to his friends who were wiser is such matters. He was relaxed and Tonio's sword had been lowered, but still was in hand.

The spirit did not answer, as if he did no understand the question or else it made no sense. Then the sword snapped back up to point at Alain again, "You said a proper burial. Where and how?"

"Where you a chieftan in life?" Alain asked. "Or were you a storied warrior?"

"I am Mryddyn, Iarla of my tribe and a mighty warrior," said the spirit proudly.

"Was this your stronghold?" Alain asked.

"It was my hall. On my death, my people interred me there as was our custom," said Mryddyn.

"Then it would be presumptuous of us to place you anywhere else," Alain said. "We will return you to your rest with your grave goods intact."

Mryddyn nodded.

"When was this?" Etienne whispered to Antoine, for he was more schooled in history than the former bandit.

"I do not know, before the Romans certainly," whispered Antoine.

"His name does not sound Frankish. He must predate them," Alain said. He turned to the ghost again, "Who were your people?"

"We were the Savanti," his spectral face looked pained, "and now we are no more. "We lived here until the legions came and then my people moved west."

Alain looked at the retreating sun and realized none of this would transpire this day. "At first light tomorrow I will begin redigging your resting place while one or more of my companions goes forth to the local villages to find your ring. That is, assuming this plan meets everyone's approval."

Etienne grunted in the affirmative. It sounded simple enough, however a ring of any value could be anywhere in the realm; having graced the hand of many men by now. "This ring," he said dipping his head in a show of respect, "did it bear your mark or something else so that we may identify it?"

"A simple ring, but he who bears it will feel my curse," said Mryddyn.

"This curse, does it drive a man mad or cause him physical pain or deformity?" Etienne asked, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully hoping that the warrior understood him.

"It brings out the beast within," said the ghost.

"Ah, then we must look for a man who uncontrollable," Etienne commented to Frederic and Antoine.

"If you three wish to question the people in the nearby villages, Tonio and I will spend our time digging tomorrow," Alain said.

"Certainly, how hard can it be to find a ring attached to the finger of a beast?" Etienne said with a smirk. His tone became more serious as he addressed the spirit, "Do you require only the ring, or the man wearing it too?"

"My peaceful rest and my grave goods," said Mryddyn. "They shall content me."

"When was the ring taken," asked Etienne.

"The ring was taken after the days outpaced the nights," he said, "but before the days began to grow shorter again."

The company fell back to camp, but Tonio refused to accompany them. "I know what Iarla Mryddyn," he wrapped his lips around the unfamiliar name carefully, "has gone through. I will pass the night here and watch over his rest."

"No harm shall come to him," said the ghost.

Having little choice, the rest withdrew. Alain cleaned and bound Etienne's wound and pronounced himself satisfied. He recommended that Etienne rest as much as possible to avoid aggravating the injury.

They passed the night, each in their own way. Antoine led them in a prayer for guidance before they slept. In the morning they returned and found Tonio waiting for them, just inside the walls.

Frederic was indeed relieved to see Tonio still drew breath. The expression was quite apparent on the young Verditius' face and could be seen by all. "The warrior spirit kept his promise, " he said, "and I would locate this ring so that you could be released. Where should our seach begin? Is there perhaps a village nearby?"

"Tonio, " Frederic asked, "would you please ask the warrior spirit if the curse would fall upon us, should we find the ring, intent to properly return it?"

"We talked last night about that," said Tonio, "you are my friends and I didn't want ill to befall you. The Iarla says the curse takes time to develop. Weeks, even."

Frederic suggested, "Perhaps we should find a tavern. I hear such places can contain great rumors. Perhaps someone drunk may be more inclined to tell us of anyone violent. The authorities may also know something, since they deal with the violent ones all the time."

"Aye," agreed Etienne. "If the theif is still in the area and has not met a violent end." "Perhaps you can inquire of the peasants Antoine, your kind heart is better suited to those who respect the law."

Frederic thought briefly. "I also have experience at sneaking around," he said. "I can be useful at getting into places that might not be, shall we say, otherwise easy to get into. I will say, however, that I wish I could fly." Frederic smiled.

"Then we shall visit the taverns and other places of questionable repute, however I hesitate to leave Antoine unescorted," he trailed off.

Antoine waved him off. "I shall be fine. I shall speak to the farmers round about."

Etienne marveled at his friend's positive outlook, but it still did not grant him ease. The man, or men, they sought were theives, and that made them dangerous even moreso if this curse was beginning to affect them. Questions about men had a way of getting back to them, and that usually meant a course of action to silence the questioner.

"It is not a large town," he lied, "we can stay together for the most part."

Etienne knew from the last trip, that the quickest way to the town was back along the river and across the ferry. The peasant dwellings were scattered along the path that led from the ferry and the mill near it and then along the road that ran east and west from the town center and manor house.

Without a cart to slow them, they made it to the ferry by late afternoon. Before they approached it, Frederic used his magics to disguise his appearance. The three men crossed the river. "I know a family to the east of town," said Antoine. "I shall seek them while you do ..." he paused. "What you must."

It was a short walk from the mill to the small cluster of workshops that huddled near the stone manor house. Antoine turned right onto the road toward Venosc, telling Etienne again that he would be fine, and hurried off, leaving the two men at the crossroads.

"I worry about Antoine, though angels walk with him," Etienne commented before asking Frederic, "To town?"

Frederic smiled sadly. "I wish angels would walk with me," he stated.

The only tavern was not large, a long smoky room with trestle tables and simple benches. A rough partition isolated the buttery at one end from which food and ale issued, and another at the far end provided some privacy for the owners. The only thing which distinguished it from most of the peasant homes was the size and the lack of livestock inside.

Half a dozen men and women were seated around one of the tables drinking. They looked rough and poor, Etienne knew the type either cottars or migrant workers. Probably cottars, he guessed, since they seemed to be accepted and known to the husband and wife who served the ale.

Spying an open table, Etienne led Frederic over and they were soon seated. "Not a lively place," he whispered.

A hush had fallen over the room as they entered, and one of the women made a sign of protection against the evil eye in Frederic's direction. Etienne knew the man and wife who ran the tavern from his previous trips to Bourg-d'Oisans, and so the husband came over to him with some trepidation. Etienne, watching their reactions, realized that he had become so used to oddness of the magi, that he had forgotten that Frederic was even odder than most - so odd that he could not interact with any of the animals and even most of the villagers at Lauvitel avoided him. Strange that Lilias and Leporideas did not have that effect. Osprey did, but not to the extent that Frederic did. Frederic was almost as bad as Etienne remembered Terrus being the few times he had met him.

"Good day, sir. Two ales," Etienne said confidently. "Have you any tales to tell weary travelers?"

The man shot a nervous glance at Frederic, whose hooded presence loomed ominously near Etienne. "Tales? No, no." He almost ran back toward the buttery, returning a moment later with two wooden bowls and a pitcher of ale which he set on the table. "Halfpence." When Etienne paid him, he scurried back to the buttery.

Pouring himself a drink, Etienne whispered to Frederic over his cup. "I hope you fare better with the ladies, else you will live a lonely life," he mused.

Frederic waited for conversation to start back up. When it did, he responded in a hushed voice, "This is not new to me. But is has been long since. Perhaps I should have waited outside. Next time."

Etienne set down his cup and let his bravado lead. He feared that time was being wasted and decided upon a more direct route, "What say you?" he called out to the other table. "Have you heard of any tales?"

The cottars who had been muttering amongst themselves fell silent. Then one, braver perhaps than the others, spoke, "Tales. Tales of what, strangers?" The hostility was evident in his voice.

Frederic looked into his ale. He was careful not to look at the townsfolk. He remained silent, but listened.

"Every town has tales to entertain its visitors," Etienne bellowed in a jovial mood sweeping his arm out. "We came from one that spoke of a madness that gripped its forests, unleashing the beast within the breast of man; have you any like it?" he gambled.

"Bah," grumbled the man. "Only a fool goes into the forests. Or a madman. Those who hunt the heather or the honey are one or the other. We have tales, though. Of demons in the form of men, who come to towns and find themselves burned at the stake to the salvation of all." The other cottars murmured agreement.

Etienne reclined back into his chair. "One can see why travelers pass through, and do not stay if that is the best ye can offer. Who here in Bourg-d'Oisans knows of tales and legends to soothe a wanderer's heart?"

The man slapped his bowl onto the table. "I have no time for such foolishness." He rose and started for the door. His companions hurridly finished their bowls and joined him.

"Not a friendly town," Etienne commented quietly to Frederic. "It appears that we require a better clientele, or another venue to learn more about the curse."

After the men left, Frederic removed his hood, revealing his disguised image of a man in his late forties. His hair appeared as if it had grayed down through the years. His eyes were brown. His face was round and showed signs of wrinkling. He took one sip from his tankard, which he had been nursing.

"As a child, I have had experience with these types of people. I fear they will return and in greater numbers," Frederic responded. "It may be best to pay up and leave this tavern." Frederic stood and took off his cloak. He proceded to curl it up and stow it.

The duo paid their bill and hastily departed through a neighboring field to the shelter of the woods. They watched for a few moments, but heard no sound of pursuit nor no hue and cry.

"They appeared to be men more of talk than action," assessed Etienne. He looked over his shoulder into the woods, "they did mention that a man must be daft to venture here, though. Perhaps what we seek lies within?"

"Yes. For Tonio, I think we should return," Frederic said.

Frederic and Etienne spent a few hours searching more or less aimlessly through the wooded areas around the town and then made their way back to where they thought Antoine had been visiting. Shortly before dark they saw his unmistakable obese figure leave one of the peasant huts and begin to head back toward the crossroads.

They quickly intercepted him and drew him off a short distance from the road where they could talk unobserved.

Frederic asked, "We had little fortune in town. How are you, Antoine?"

"I am pleased to have had the chance to minister to these poor folk once again," he replied.

"They need it," commented Etienne clarifying at Antoine's quizzical expression. "We met some who did not enjoy our company, but gained very little information about the ring or one who wears it."

"Ah," said Antoine. "Nor did these good folk. The only event which has marred their peace is the death of their neighbor a few weeks ago, the peasant farmer who drowned."

Frederic's interest peaked. "The suspicion that some creature may be involved," he asked.

Antoine said, "He drowned, but the body was swollen, they said. Like he been stung by a serpent many times."

"Hmm," Frederic relayed. "Not related to the ring, I dont think. But it may be worth investigating. Beasts sometimes have vis, I've been told. But takes many in number to subdue them. What do you think, Etienne?"

"That is most odd here," commented Etienne. "Where did this happen, did they say?"

"The body caught up in the mill-race, it had floated downstream. His virgate was a little upriver," said Antoine. "He was swollen, as I say, as if stung or as if he had bathed in stinging nettles."

"Where now?" said Antoine. "My friends there, have offered us lodging for the night. It is not much, but it is a roof over our heads."

Frederic turned to Antoine "Most peasants do not agree with my presence. I fear I should camp outside somewhere close."

Etienne, Frederic and Antoine moved off into the woods were they prepared to spend an uncomfortable night. Frederic was able to use his magic to twist a tree into a decent shelter, and Etienne set up a camp as best he could, but the ground was hard.

A night in the woods left the three companions with no fresh ideas, so they retraced their steps to the ferry and from thence back to the ruins arriving a little after midday to find Tonio and Alain sparring gently on the green in front of the ruins. They stopped when the trio broke from the woods and began to approach and moved to wait in the shade.

Frederic approached the two in the shade relaxed. "This may take longer than imagined, my friends. We have had little initial success."

"So the villagers knew nothing of a man with a ring? I was afraid it would not be so easy." Alain wiped his brow with a cloth and put his sword away. "We have had more success. When the bones were returned to the earth, the spirit settled. I do not think it has gone on to it's rest, but the danger has passed for now. We will need to devise a plan to find this ring and perhaps some way to lay him to rest. He has intrigued me and I feel a desire to learn more of his people. When we return, I will see what knowledge the library holds. With Brother Antoine's help, I might even find proper funerary rights for a chieftain."

Leaving the rest of their money with Tonio, the others returned to Lakehome. The trip was uneventful and they arrived in two days.