Tiernon nodded. “Yes, I noted it in the balling. The Arch-Diocate on site has it in his possession.”
Torean shrugged. “So there is work to be done. We need to examine the blade.”
“Indeed.” Tiernon agreed.
“Hmm, I suppose it is salvageable,” Stevos said, exiting the doorway from a badly damaged corner tower. “It will take a lot of work to restore the walls.”
“The main hall is mostly intact, other than the roof.” Teragdor said. “I think it will make a good sanctuary once repaired, cleansed and consecrated.”
“The courtyard buildings are essentially worthless and will need to be rebuilt,” Stevos said.
Teragdor nodded. “Still better than anything else we found.”
The two had spent the day trying to find a new base of operations for the team. They had looked at the only two buildings in Murgatroy and not been that impressed. They had then ventured out to some old ruins in the vicinity; this one, Fort Murgatroid, was the most intact. It was a very old mud and stone fort built by the Vargosians about seven hundred years ago.
After the fall of the Vargosite Empire, it had been mostly unoccupied for a few decades before the first Earl of Murgandy decided it would be his eastern redoubt and stationed his troops there. Eventually, about a hundred years later, after Murgatroy was settled, the second King of Murgandy (the first earl’s heirs had promoted themselves to kings) they’d moved their troops to Murgatroy and abandoned the fort. It had thus been sitting empty for the last few hundred years.
Teragdor had heard tales of bandits occasionally camping there, but it was in such disrepair that none stayed long. From current appearances, it was only used as a camping site by travelers. It was roughly a league outside of Murgatroy. Close enough to be convenient, but far enough away as not to draw unwanted attention to Church activities.
They stared around in silence for a moment.
“What do you think?” Teragdor asked.
“I think it will work,” the saint replied.
“So how do we go about rebuilding it and then staffing it?” Teragdor asked. “I still don’t see what we are doing on that front.”
“I will discuss it at the team meeting tonight. We will want to use local materials, of course.” He looked around, thinking. “We don’t want to staff it with saints or archons because that would be one seriously large mana beacon, so we have some concerns about getting the Church or the Rod too involved. Plus, we would have to pull them from quite some distance, which would be noticed.”
Stevos moved to look out the wide open and broken main gate. “We could, I suppose, use Tierhallonic resources to repair it relatively quickly.” He squinted his eyes, peering to the west. “Do you think we could get some Rangers?”
“Rangers of Torean on Church business?” Teragdor asked, rather shocked.
Stevos turned, smiling at the priest. “I know it sounds odd to you and me, but in the Holy Etonian Empire the Five Churches work hand in hand on many projects.” He chuckled. “The Rod travels on ships of Namora’s Navy with wind supplied by priests of Krinna.”
Teragdor nodded. “I have been told such things, but never actually seen it.”
Stevos thought for a moment. “You were ordained in Woodsdock, as I recall?”
Teragdor nodded. “That is the closest temple. From here, it’s actually closer than Southpoint.”
“Indeed. Which is the logistical problem of using Church or Rod staffing.” Stevos grimaced. “Short of direct intercession, of course.”
Teragdor shook his head, not understanding.
“Well, I could certainly pop over there, commandeer some forces, and then do a gateway back here.” Stevos grinned, knowing that Teragdor understood how shocking and unprecedented that would be.
“That would cause more than a few heart attacks,” Teragdor agreed.
“And then the entire Church in Astlan would go to high alert and start asking a lot of questions we don’t want asked yet.”
“Yeah.” Teragdor shook his head, thinking of the chaos.
“Let’s head back to town and get some dinner,” Stevos said, heading towards their hobbled mounts.
Murgatroy
“I wish that djinni would get off his butt and leave the wards already!” Damien complained. “I am getting tired of being in this backwater.”
Vaselle looked at him and shrugged. "Well, now that the others are on their way home, there is no reason we have to stay here. We could go back to Mount Doom and wait there. It’s a lot more comfortable.”
Damien gave the warlock a look of disbelief. “Which stinky volcano were you in?” He shook his head. “Besides, given that none of them eat, there isn’t much food there except when they party.”
Vaselle grinned. “So then why don’t we go down and eat dinner in the common room rather than up in this little room?”
“And get spotted?” Damien shook his head.
“Zed said that the Nimbus was leaving today, and I haven’t seen Hilda’s people around all day. I’m betting it is safe,” Vaselle argued.
Damien frowned, thinking. “I suppose.” He stood and gestured for Vaselle to precede him through the door.
The two made their way down to the main floor and over to the common room of the adjoining tavern. There were several diners at tables; none they knew, fortunately. The two sat down at one of the few smaller tables with only four chairs, and Damien made a motion to the tavern wench that they wanted food.
After a short and mostly silent wait, the tavern wench came by and looked at them silently, simply waiting for them to order something. Vaselle was not impressed by the service.
“What is on the menu for tonight?” Vaselle asked her.
“Braised yak rib with mashed turnips, mutton stew with bread, or the standard bread, cheese and sausage,” the wench replied disinterestedly.
Vaselle and Damien looked at each other and shrugged. “Yak rib and turnips and the dark ale,” Damien said. Because it was easy to take to the room, they’d eaten the cheese and sausage a couple times and it was at best, edible.
“Same for me,” Vaselle said.
“Swapped barrels. It’s a stout now, not a dark ale,” the wench replied.
“Fine,” Damien told her as Vaselle nodded. She turned away and headed back towards the bar.
“The people here are so hospitable,” Damien observed sarcastically.
“This place would be belly up in a quarter month in Freehold,” Vaselle agreed.
“Vaselle!” a voice said from the doorway to the inn.
Vaselle looked up, startled, to see Teragdor and a man somewhere between his own age and Damien’s entering the common room.
Damien shot Vaselle a glance, annoyed that they had been recognized.
“Teragdor!” Vaselle raised a hand in greeting, gesturing for the two men to approach. By their clothes, they appeared to have just finished a horse ride.
The two came over and Vaselle stood to shake hands with the priest. “Good to see you again!” Vaselle told him.
“And you!” Teragdor agreed with a rather intimidating smile.
“This is Stevos, who also serves Tiernon, albeit in a different capacity.” Vaselle reached out to shake Stevos’s hand.
“Let me introduce you to Damien,” Vaselle said, gesturing to Damien, who gave him a small glare. Vaselle suddenly realized he’d used Damien’s real name. They had not actually agreed on a fake name for him, but in hindsight, given that the wizard was hiding from others from Freehold, they should have.