[center][b][h3]The Rudine Mountains[/h3]
The border dividing the realms of Chlotaringen and Lampertei[/b]

[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/1ead7d50-1fb9-4a7a-b65e-fc2e1824c572.jpg[/img][/center]


[i]‘’Here; this is as far as I’m allowed to tread. Beyond here is no-man’s land.’’[/i]  Fulk of Rudinberg stops his horse, then points his spear at the valley down the edge of the cliff from which they stand. The valley gradually slopes upwards towards two high mountains, between which a narrow pass is visible. 
[i]‘’That’s the pass I told you about… Careful; while Lamperts don’t usually go through there, one can never be certain.’’[/i]  

Einhard looks towards the valley with a determined look on his face, then replies in a gruff manner, [i]“That’s if Autchar left any of the Lamperts to us.”[/i]

Fulk nods, then turns to Marozia. [i]‘’Watch yourself out there little boy!’’[/i]

[i]“FOR THE LAST TIME I AM NOT A-”[/i] Marozia shouts then takes a deep breath. 
Following the outburst Einhard lets out a brief snort of laughter while Fulk just grins like an idiot, pretending not to hear. He slaps his horse; [i]‘’HEI-YA!’’[/i]  And the Rudinberg warrior races off, withdrawing towards the road from which they came. 

Marozia puffs up some at Einhard seated in front of him,[i] “What I keep telling these boneheads is that I am a girl, and they can’t get it through their thick skulls!”[/i] Marozia shakes her head, [i]“And anyways, did you actually mean you are looking to kill Lamperts, Master Paladin?” [/i]
Einhard urges the horse on which they sit towards the valley and feels for his mace, [i]“If it comes to it, it will be the only way. Hopefully we manage to link up with Autchar before any real fighting takes place.”[/i] Einhard turns around at Marozia with a grin on his face,[i] “The men of the Clovisciscan Clan prefer to have real warriors to protect their back when we charge into battle.”[/i]
[i]“Hey!”[/i] Marozia yelps back, [i]“I only recently started training, I have plenty of time to learn to use this thing.”[/i] Marozia takes out Alamehtigan from the sheath on her waist and swings it in the air. 
[i]“Marozia!”[/i] Einhard bellows, [i]“Put the sword away; it is not a toy to be played with!”[/i]
Marozia bows her head with shame,[i] “Sorry master Paladin…”[/i] and returns the sword to the sheath. 
Einhard sighs, [i]“Just don’t do it again. Now let's go.”[/i] Einhard urges his horse to begin moving at a faster trot through the valley. 
As the Paladin and his Shieldbearer got closer to the Rudines they were met with a fierce mountain wind, but otherwise no sound. [i]‘’Say, Einhard, you mentioned the King had a vision. About the Horn. It’s somewhere in a mountain top ruin, right?’’[/i]
[i]‘’Correct.’’[/i]
[i]‘’So, where should we start looking? Just go by every mountain?’’[/i]
[i]‘’We need to find this Raditsch, apparently he isn’t hard to find. So say the men of Rudinberg, anyway. 
And also-…’’[/i]

From beyond the mountain tops Einhard spots something peculiar, a single dark stormcloud has appeared on the skyline, surrounded by an otherwise clear blue sky. He looks at it for a bit with a disconcerted brow. 
[i]‘’...And also, what?’’[/i] His Shieldbearer notices Einhard having gone mute, and after perceiving the frown on his face, she follows his eyes to whatever has disquieted him. She spots the distant cloud.
[i]‘’What is that? Is a storm on its way?’’[/i] Marozia says, slightly unnerved. [i]‘’Do you think it’s an omen?’’[/i]
[i]‘’...A good one, I hope.’’[/i] Einhard finally says. [i]‘’Let’s go.’’ [/i]

In under an hour they reach the pass and ride their steed through the opening. They are now in the Rudine Mountains, the highest in all Visandza. Immediately the two can sense a change, and not just in altitude. The air here is so clean and pure that it was always said Healing Powers are invested in it, divinely inspired. It is no coincidence that these mountains were once a place of reverence for the followers of Godas.
Looking around in wonderment, the jagged mountain tops are wreathed in fog and covered by crystalline layers of ice, glinstering in the morning sun. A few flakes of snow dart gracefully towards the ground from up on high, yet beyond that the cold is strangely soothing.
Disrupting the rapture however is that single dark stormcloud, which seems to have gotten closer. 

Einhard had a sudden inkling. [i]“Something tells me we need to go there”[/i], pointing at the cloud. 
[i]“Why? Is the Millennium Horn there or some such?”[/i]
Einhard gives no response, but steers the horse down the rocky trail to circumvent the mountain behind which peak the cloud is looming.

Over the next two hours of carefully navigating through perilous and steep pathways, evading cliffs and jagged rocks, and hoping not to come across scouts from Lampertei, the two ride closer and closer to their destination floating above the mountains. Finally circumventing the great mountain -- though but one of many in the great mountain chain that is the Rudines -- they come upon a clearing, a forested and rocky meadow leading down to a lake. 

The meadow is shrouded by the overcasting cloud. And standing closeby, the two can perceive rain dripping down from it into the clearing, and stranger yet the occasional crackle of lightning. If it wasn’t already apparent before, that cloud is certainly no result of natural processes.

Having taken in the view from their elevated path, the two ride down the mountainous slope and into the meadow. Before long however, Shieldbearer Marozia points towards something near the lake.
[i]‘’Hey, Master Paladin, look! I think there's someone sitting there!’’[/i]
Einhard narrows his eyes and tries to follow the direction of Marozia’s finger. It must be her young eyes, for the Paladin can only just make out the vague silhouette of something.
[i]‘’Do you think it’s a Lampert?’’[/i] The Paladin asks his shieldbearer as he attempts to perceive what is waiting down below.
[i]‘’Could be?’’[/i] She replies.
[i]‘’Well, there’s only one way to find out.’’[/i]

Not long thereafter their steed enters the clearing. And now looking through the trees, they can see from afar a man sitting lonely on a great stone with his back turned towards them. He sits motionlessly, as if asleep, and is draped with such tattered and worn raiments that the colors of it resemble and camouflage with the stone. On top of his head is a straw hat, from a distance appearing to be smeared with white paint.

Riding closer, Einhard clears his voice and bellows at the sitting man, [i]“In the name of King Cauroman, identify yourself!”[/i] Einhard pauses for a second, awaiting response. Receiving none, the Paladin raises his voice yet again, [i]“I am Paladin Einhard Maugersson, identify yourself now!”[/i]
The sitting man gives no response. [i]‘’Stay on the horse, Shieldbearer.’’[/i] Einhard tells Marozia as he climbs down the steed, handing her the reins. 
Then the Paladin walks over to the motionless man. He places a hand on his shoulder, which is covered in white and black sludgy matter, leaving a white print on his hand as though paint.

[i]“Gah what in the Hellfire is this.”[/i] Einhard shakes his hand trying to get the paint off, but ends up splattering more of it on the armor. 

[i]‘’Bensdu marcarii Lampoerti?’’[/i]
The man suddenly speaks hoarsely in an unfamiliar language, and he turns his face towards Einhard. 
[i]‘’Wo bensdu?’’[/i]
As the Lampert language sounds similar to Chlotar, Einhard could understand what he said a little bit. ‘Who are you.’
[i]“I am Paladin Einhard Maugersson of Clan Cloviscisca, courtier of the King of Chlotaringen, I am here on official business of King Cauroman.”[/i]

As the Paladin looked upon him, he saw a worn and miserable face, with loose strands of grey and brown hair covering his forehead, disheveled facial hair and blotches of diseased and burned skin on his cheek and neck. 

[i]‘’Are you? You are dapper to tread alonaz so near to the Cuninc… [b]King[/b]’s domain, outlandling.’’[/i] The man says, speaking now in Chlotar. [i]‘’I am Raditschs.’’[/i] he says, turning around.
	
[i]“The Chlotar Paladins fear no man, especially not the Mad King of the Lamperts.”[/i] Einhard replies sitting down on a nearby large rock. Einhard undoes the cap on his mead to take a swig before extending it to Raditschs. [i]“Care to take a drink?”[/i]

Raditschs hunches forward, looking perplexed at the skin of mead offered to him, not having experienced mannerisms of kindness in a long time. He looks up at Einhard questioningly.
[i]‘’A Paladin of the Chlotar Cuninc… I assumaz you are among his blessed mennus, and need not fear doom therefore. Nor to have mine doom be brought upone you.’’[/i]

Dismissing Raditsch’s gloom, Einhard continues to hold the skin towards Raditsch, not letting go until he accepts it. [i]“Not quite the reaction I was expecting, but come on. Every man, friend or foe, should be able to share a drink between each other.”[/i]
The haunted man’s eyes light up in disbelief. He looks between the Paladin’s face and the mead, then back to his face as to discern how serious he is, before finally stretching out a calloused hand to take the meadskin, and pressing the opening against sore dried lips... After handing it back, Raditschs just keeps staring at Einhard piercingly, still lost for words and puzzled as to his intent. Both men find the other to be the stranger.

Einhard puts the cap back on the mead skin. [i]“So you are Raditschs, from what I heard you were cursed… I don’t know what to think of you.”[/i] 

Raditschs murmurs something inwardly, his happy disbelief returning to his accustomed sternness. Then he points a finger upwards to the cloud hanging above them.
[i]‘’I assumaz that is how you foundas me.’’[/i]

[i]“A darkcloud that unnatural and a man proclaimed by drunken warriors to be cursed and an agent of discord… I made a fair guess.”[/i] Einhard chuckles to himself, [i]“You had quite the fan down there in Rudinberg-”[/i] Suddenly Einhard turns serious, [i]“So what are you then, a spawn of evil, a cursed holy warrior, or some unfortunate man caught in between their battle?”[/i]

Raditsch nods, and while processing his thoughts, speaks slowly, carefully picking his words. [i]‘’I am damned, to darkness driven. Where your King had bestowaz you his white boon, mine King bestowaz me his black curse.’’ [/i]

Overhearing, Marozia calls from the back: [i]‘’Your King? You mean Dalgiserius?’’[/i]
...At the mention of the Lampert King’s name the cloud above them crackles with lightning, scaring the horse who neighs and would’ve surely run off, had Marozia not pulled at the reins. [i]‘’Wow there, calm there!’’[/i]

Raditsch continues, moving a finger towards his straw.
[i]‘’I weare this hutt in vain attempt to scield mine head from rain unending, and also the birda.’’[/i]
Indeed, only now Einhard realises the white sludgy substance covering Raditschs hat and shoulders is bird poo. A [i]lot[/i] of bird poo. For one to have such tremendous bad luck, he must surely be under the effects of a curse.

Einhard stands up straight, undaunted by Raditsch’s everpresent gaze, [i]“Dalgiserius is a wicked deviant, he will receive what he is due in time, for what he has done to his people.” [/i] Marozia pipes up, [i]“Yeah, like making the birds shit on him!” [/i]
Einhard sighs and shakes his head at her.

The haunted man seems distraught rather than consoled by their words, lowering his head and looking to the ground, finally ceasing his relentless staring at Einhards face, who was probably getting uncomfortable from it by now.
[i]‘’Long ago… Mine King Dalgiserius was a fine princeling from a noble kingdom.’’[/i]

A flickering light appears in the haunted man's eyes, and he raises a finger. 

[i]“Dalgiserius though a mannus prone to outbursts and violence, was just, and always the first to ride to his peoples defense among the Lampert princelings. I had once accompanied him on one such exploits, I did. 
… Of course, this was back when his brothers and kinsmen yet lived.
Now it’s as though he has been possessed by a demon. A demon whose hold firmed with every death.
Long I have dwelled at the March of Lampertei in miserable exile, in hopes he would one day clear the dark of his mind. 
Alas.”[/i]

Einhard stands motionless with his hands placed on his thighs as he looks down to the haunted man, listening intently, though he can’t help but raise eyebrows in regards to some of the words spoken. ‘Dalgiserius fine? ...Lampertei noble?’ 

Looking up again to Einhard and Marozia, Raditschs sighs. [i]‘’There is no rest for me, so I fear. When I close mine eyes I can still heare his fell voice screaming mine damnation.’’[/i]

From his mind, Raditschs recalls an image of a dark stone hall wreathed with green flame. There a large and dark imposing figure sits on the throne, menacingly waving a scepter at the conjuring of a wicked hex. The rage of that voice would ring with him forever.

[center][color=662d91]GOD’S SLAVE
YOU CAN’T ESCAPE MY DAMNATION
HEAR MY WORDS - FEAR MY CURSE
WHERESOEVER YOU DWELL TEMPESTS HOUND YOU
AND NO SHELTER YOU’LL FIND FROM UNENDING DESPAIR
PESTILENCE WILL CLAIM YOUR HOMELESS SOUL 
- NOT A HAIR ON YOUR HEAD BE SPARED
GUILT AND MISERY UNTO SEVEN GENERATIONS
OF ALL YOUR DAMNED FAMILY![/color][/center]
 
[i]“Mine curse.”[/i] Raditsch says reflecting with a downcast and defeated tone.

Marozia, not understanding the gravitas of damnation, leans towards Einhard and whispers, [i]“I swear, not every Lampert is crazy.” Einhard nods at Marozia then turns to Raditsch, “Thank you for your story…’’[/i] Einhard politely says with faux amusement. To him the notion of Dalgiserius being anything other than a demon in and by himself is a foreign one.
[i]“I suppose now is the time I tell you why I am here. I am looking for the Millennium Horn.”[/i]

[i]“The selfsame Horn carried by a Paladin before you, I recall. I did not realise at the time it was such a mighty weapon.
Am I to assumaz you seek to enlist mine aid to this end?’’[/i]

Einhard lets out a hearty laugh, [i]“Yes I- ..[b]we[/b] will need help finding the Millennium Horn in these Mountains.”
[/i]
Again the haunted man stares at Einhard intently, seemingly to test how serious he is.
[i]‘’I do know of the whereabouts of the Horn, Paladin. But I do not know if you should want to go there. It is in Lampertei Domain -- to tread there is to tread into uncertainty and chaos. If you are caught there is no telling what the Cuninc’s Men will do to you. 
And if I am caught accompanying you, I will be beyond redemption and cursed forever. 
The risk is too great.’’[/i]

[i]“If indeed you prove yourself useful, [b]of course[/b] I will help you lift your curse. As a Swordbrother of the King of Chlotaringen, I can effortlessly arrange a meeting with a King to mend your curse, one nobler than the mad Lampert King...”[/i]

[i]‘’You would… you would arrange such?’’[/i]
For a moment Raditsch is dumbfounded, struck by the acts of unusual kindness the Paladin repeatedly offers.
[i]‘’If I have your solemn promise, that you would indeed let me see the Chlotar Cuninc, than I will do all in mine power to guide you there.
But heed me now, Paladin. The path to the horn is arduous… There is no guarantee you will leave unscathed, blessedness or no.
Do you have the readiness.. the certainty of mind?’’
[/i]
Einhard nods in approval and stretches his arm out towards Radistich, [i]“I already made up my mind as I rode to find you, Raditsch. Take me to the Horn my father died for, and I vow by my ancestors, I will take you to King Cauroman.”[/i]