After some discussion with the giant, the party continued on it's path.  Initially, the barbarians stood in the way, seeming to want to stand up to the heroes as some act of defiance against the gods.  But the fire in their hearts was quenched after weeks in the cold, the giant easily carving a wedge through the horde with the sheer power of it's presence.  As the party continued, hushed tones passed through the crowd as some recognized the champions based off of stories.

Many of the barbarians were obviously relieved that these fabled warriors and mythical beings wouldn't be attacking them.

As the party continued to head through the middle of the horde, the Dark Prince's prediction proved itself accurate.  Men avoided conflict, and women grabbed their children away from the monsters that stood before them.  The group reached the other side without any issue.
[h3][color=gold]Acamen Hopsfield[/color][/h3]
The white mage sighed in relief as they reached the other side.  While he was confident in the Vampire's plan, the feeling of success was more filling than any amount of bravado the soul could muster.  After walking a safe distance from the horde, Acamen sent his daughter to snatch a deer for the giant and pay the party's debt.  After a few more miles of traveling, Ezekala returned with the payment and the group sent the satisfied giant on it's way.

Two more days passed uneventfully.  The morning sun on the fifth day failed to warm the party as they hiked over yet another mound of snow, the only exciting feature the Turmian Mountains the party would be passing through later that day.  The mountains towered in the distance, sentinels over the surrounding hills, the peaks easily piercing the cload.  Hopsfield hoped that the Turmian Pass would allow the team he was leading to get a jump start on the way up north, avoiding a long detour around the mountain range.

As the party entered the mountain pass the birds eye vision was cut off - neither Phoenix or Angel could fly over the mighty Turmian mountains, meaning that there would be little warning in case of an ambush.  Historically however, the road had been kept clear by the Order of Schlucht, so the white mage had little reason to worry.  

The Order of Schlucht was some two thousand years old, maintaining about a thousand knights dedicated to keeping the Turmian Pass clear.  Initially created to block the northern barbarians from invading, today they maintained themselves by collecting tolls from travelers and merchants in exchange for a quick and safe passage.  In the middle of the pass their fortress still stood against the test of time, having held off barbarians, mages, and multiple invasions from both sides.  Acamen knew that recently the order had some financial troubles, but he guessed that the fort was making a killing from tolls due to southern migrations.

Acamen was not expecting a siege.  While the recent lack of resources lent itself to violence, even a large army wouldn't dare to challenge the Knights of Schlucht.  But here was a small army of some seventy five men waiting outside the fortress, firing arrows towards the battlements.  After a moment of searching the Exemplar noticed the assaulting armies banner, a simple cloth of purple and black.  Acamen thought through the list of noble houses and eventually realized who it was.  [color=gold][i]House Zoloman? If I remember correctly they have land holdings just south of these mountains.[/i][/color]  Still, that didn't explain why Zoloman was sieging the Knights of Schlucht.  If anything, House Zoloman relied on the protection the knights granted them.

The Exemplar found his answer upon viewing the fort.  It appeared to have been through several sieges recently, a massive hole blown in the wall and signs that a large army had passed through recently, numbering in the thousands.  The trail headed off into the mountain range however, which Acamen considered to be the least confusing part of what he saw.

The confusing part were the skeletons that now occupied the walls, some wore tabards from the knightly order, others wore the signature fur cloaks of barbarians.  Arrows and bolts and javelins were being launched towards the sieging army, inaccurately and falling short of Zolomon's troops.  The problem was the large army of undead massing at the hole, preparing the charge the human troops.

The Golden Lances prepared for combat, ready to slay those kept unloving through heretical magic.