The trip from Wesp had been a long one. The mountains of the Eastern Ridges and the barren terrain made the trip inhospitable. Adding parties of members of raiding Horde, along with thieves and bandits,  made the trip even worse for the small band of brothers. They were all that was left of their order after the Abby was attacked and raided.

“Brother Sylian, could you check on Brother Alton?” the young Abbot asked as the group made its way into the capital city, Threll.

The day had made its march, and evening was setting in. One mule carried two small chests of Sacred Texts and the items for worship. Tired, but still moving.  Two novices, four brothers, two small bags of coins, and a decree that the order owned land that the former Abby resided on also came along.

One of the Brother’s commented, “I remember when the capital shone like a gem in the emperor’s crown.  Now, the place looks …”

Vigo jumped in saying, “Now, let us speak kindly. Our home is in much worse shape than this.”

To many on the streets they looked like a rambling band of, well, homeless  men.

Even the city guard looked at them like they were trouble.

About a five minute walk from the Emperor’s Palace , the small band found an Inn that had seen better days. Two drunks lay outside on the ground, a small gaggle of working women moved their way into and down a dark alley. One of the novices showed great attention to what was being sold.

“Brother,” is all Vigo had to say. The master of discipline would deal with that later.

Vigo entered the Inn to stares from patrons and staff.

The rooms were adjoining and there was a bath down the hall. Hot water would be provided so that they could wash and clean themselves up. Tomorrow the small band would make its way to the Royal Court, to plead for support of some form.

The Cardinal had all but told them that the winds of faith were changing. Magic was being replaced with  “technology.”

“Even the ancient texts are being examined and understandings are being revised,” the Cardinal told Vigo with a smile. Though not publicly, Vigo thought the Cardinal had bought his position.

After a bit of warm food, Vigo knelt on the floor as one brother washed closed and the others were already asleep.

“You are the source of everything. You speak and things happen. Bless our efforts with the Emperor, may he hear our case and give us aid,” Vigo whispered in an ancient tongue.

Then he lay down to sleep against the room’s door.


[hr]
The morning brought with it the promise of a better day. Vigo’s confessor insisted that he take a bath and comb out his beard.  The brother’s insisted that he wear his robes and the regalia of his office. He refused to ride the donkey with the chests. The poor beast had already been through much.  

At the Palace, there was much activity. Bodies were being removed.

“Not a good sign,” Brother Alton said.

Vigo sighed and the group continued on. Murmurs of concern came from the brothers as they searched through the building looking for servants to direct them till they stumbled on the place where the Emperor was holding court. The young Abbot poked his head through the door looking for a servant to announce them.