They reached Freistadt in the late afternoon. Augustus had curled up within Robert’s knapsack and had slept soundly for a nap.
The quiet had given Robert time to think. He had a proper name now, and at least that was something. It did make him feel more alive, and seemed he had made a friend along the way. He didn’t know too many walking skeletons who had those.
Augustus must have sensed their arrival and roused himself from his slumber.
“That was a sorely needed bit of rest!” exclaimed Augustus as he wormed his way from the knapsack onto Robert’s shoulder. He stretched his furry rodent paws to the sky and rubbed his eyes. “Ah, and I see we’ve also arrived at the city. Just in time for supper!”
Pockmarked stone walls stood tall around the perimeter of Freistadt, stalwart with the scars of plentiful conflict. The terrain sloped downward from their position, permitting a view of the aged limestone and timber residences below. Elegant cathedrals stood above the rest of the tightly interwoven structures with a number of open plazas breaking up the uniform streets and alleyways.
At the far end of his vision was a bustling harbor. Where the city walls terminated there were ships venturing through a massive sea-gate, either docking at the port or making way for the open sea beyond.
Robert approached the imposing iron gates leading into Freistadt cautiously. His disguise might fool most in the dark, but broad daylight could be of some concern. Two guards were standing by the gates checking in visitors. They were clad in well-worn chainmail with shields bearing a golden spoked wagon wheel on a blue background with silver trim. Robert could see them watching as they walked nearer. Sensing Robert’s anxiety, Augustus patted Robert on the head.
“Not to worry, my boy. Let me do all the talking.”
Robert strode awkwardly up to the guards, one of which who put up a hand to halt him.
“Not so fast, Ausländer. Name and business,” commanded the sentry.
Augustus stood on his hind legs and waved a short paw from Robert’s shoulder.
“Augustus Pierre. Senior Member of the Merchant’s Guild and proprietor of the Golden Feather Caravan Company, at your service! Is that you Herman?” Augustus offered his paw to the guard.
The sentry’s expression brightened underneath his steel half-helmet as he recognized Robert’s companion. Herman took Augustus’ paw between his thumb and index and greeted him gently with an odd handshake.
“Ah, Mr. Pierre, it’s good to see you again! Where’s Reginald? I thought you always traveled together,”
“Murdered by bandits, I’m afraid. I would’ve shared his fate if it wasn’t for my savior here, Robert Blackstone,” Augustus gestured towards Robert.
Both sentries eyed Robert suspiciously; his cloaked face and ragged leather armor were undoubtedly out of the norm for most travelers.
Augustus interrupted the silence before they could inquire further.
“Er- would you gentlemen be so kind as to let us proceed? With Reginald gone from this world, I must attend to his affairs back at our emporium.”
The sentries looked at each other and gave a curt nod.
“You and your… companion… may pass.” said Herman with a note of unease. The guards stood to the side to let the duo enter. As Robert moved into the portcullis, Herman put a firm hand on Robert’s padded shoulder and paused his step.
“You should be pleased to know our world-famous public baths have reopened. You would do well to visit them. Not to be rude, but you smell like death.”
Herman released his tight grip and allowed them to proceed. If Robert had sweat glands right now, he’d be drenched.
The interior of the portcullis was decorated with parchment advising travelers to be mindful of dangerous creatures like gnolls, goblins, and undead revenants, urging citizens to report all concerns to the Ecclesiarchy. Robert eyed the warnings with concern.
“Do you think they suspected something?” Robert whispered.
“I’ve seen all manner of odd fellows through my travels; you are far from the strangest,” Augustus reassured. “The elves, for instance, dress in quite a peculiar manner. While they have long left this region due to the Inquisition, they have darkened these streets more than once in the past.”
“I meant about my undead state.”
Augustus shook his tiny head from side to side.
“Even if they did, my name has vast influence. There’s nothing to fear while you’re with me!”
Freistadt had a modest appearance about it. The city’s interior was packed tightly with timber-framed structures inlaid with weathered gray limestone. A great deal of effort had gone into the town’s construction in ages prior, yet the passing of time and war had worn on the old city. Some buildings had ad hoc repairs done to cover damage while others seemed to be entirely new construction.
Augustus guided Robert through the streets as the populace closed up for the evening. Beautiful, fair-haired women ushered in their children at play for the evening while the men came home dirty and dusty from hard labor outside the gates. Smoke emitted from chimneys as they warmed their hearths to cook dinner and keep warm after the sun had set.
It felt oddly inspiriting to Robert. This was the first glimpse of humanity he’d seen in the past few days since he’d risen from the grave. All these people were hurrying to live out their lives, ignorant of the realm of death in which he’d walked. In his musings, Robert was struck with a pang of loneliness.
Would it be worth it to learn about my old life? If I could return to it, would I want to?
The pair finally came to a market plaza with a flowing water fountain in the center. On the other side resided a splendorous store, its timber struts decorated with regal purple and gold silk curtains. Above the entryway hung a wooden sign decorated with an unusual crimson bird; a single metallic ochre tailfeather plummeted outwards, with the emporium’s name inked over it.
The Golden Feather.
The pair entered through the storefront. The interior was chaotic compared to the exterior. Artifacts such as scepters, pottery, and statues were displayed within individual cases on the main floor, while smaller, more expensive items were held behind a teak countertop. Further, laborers worked hard in the back of the store, moving some items from the crates to the shelves while others packed empty crates with valuables.
“What do you think, Robert? Pretty high class, wouldn’t you say?” Augustus inquired expectantly.
“It’s quite the emporium. What’s with the name, though?” He picked up a goblet from a nearby table display and examined the artisan craftsmanship of the embedded gemstones.
“That’s a funny story, you see. As you may have gathered, I fancy gold in all its forms. There’s one bird I’ve been tracking with golden feathers, the legendary phoenix! However, in all my trades and travels, the only evidence I’ve found of one is a single gold feather a mad old woman traded to me. Only wanted twenty bushels of apples in return, the old bat,”
“I thought bats didn’t have feathers,” Robert chuckled.
“Well, that one certainly doesn’t anymore, I assure you,” Augustus chuckled, “Come, let’s go to the residence and make supper.”
Robert walked to the back hall and took the stairs up to the next floor. It was a simple loft with two bedrooms, a common area, and a kitchen area. Augustus jumped onto the floor and scurried around the kitchen while Robert inspected the area. On the back wall hung a painting of a portly, freckled ginger man, appearing to be middle aged and wearing a matching vest to Augustus who sat in his palm in the portrait. He looked distinguished, but had a warm aura in the way he smiled in the painting.
“This place feels far too large without dear Reginald. I am grateful for your rescue, Robert, I just wish it wasn’t necessary in the first place…” mourned Augustus.
“He seems like a nice enough guy,” said Robert, “I’m sorry he’s gone.”
“I am as well,” Augustus sighed and pointed to the cabinets, “Could you do me a favor and give me a hand with cooking? Reginald always used to be the one who made supper while I gave him direction.”
“Did you sit on his head and tug on his hair like a puppeteer?”
“No, that’s a silly concept. I simply told him what he needed to do and he did it. For example, could you please see if there’s any potatoes in the pantry?”
“How many do you need?” Robert asked as he went in search of spuds.
“I usually cook three.”
“You can eat three potatoes? That’s a bit much for your stature, isn’t it?”
“That’s right, I usually cook with Reginald in mind. You don’t want any supper, do you?”
Robert lifted up his leather attire and showed Augustus the vacant space between his ribs and pelvis.
“I don’t need to eat, not that I physically could.”
“Ah, then perhaps I need to make some minor adjustments…”
Robert followed along with Augustus’ guidance as he prepared a pot pie out of a miniature pan, consisting of hearty vegetables and aged beef. While it was somewhat annoying for Robert to put so much effort into something he couldn’t enjoy himself, it was pleasing to see Augustus return to his cheery self while he ate.
After eating, Augustus bid Robert a good night and left him with a spare journal.
“Take it, my friend. It might be good to keep your mind occupied.”
And so Robert did just that. He wrote whatever came to mind, slowly cataloguing everything he had learned until now. It wasn’t much, but at least with the journal, Robert had proof he was still living.
When the sun rose so too did Augustus, scurrying out of his room with a fresh vest and hopping on the work desk, stretching his arms and twisting next to where Robert scribbled away.
“Good morning, Robert! How are you feeling this morning?” asked Augustus.
“About the same as last night, I suppose,” Robert responded.
“Well I’m sure today’s going to be a bright and beautiful day!” the rodent exclaimed, “I do have something I need assistance with. Give me but a moment.”
Augustus leapt onto a nearby desk and pulled out a letter with his tiny mouth. He ran to an inkwell, dabbed his paws in, and made two small prints beside his name, already pre-printed on the page. Without missing a beat, he diligently rolled the paper and stamped it with a wax seal.
“Robert, I have a task of incredible importance to ask of you. It would take me ages to take this insurance form to the Hall of Records on my own. Might you aid me as a courier?”
“What about your employees?”
“Seasonal workers. I need someone whom I can trust to deliver this without running off with the geld,” Augustus smirked, “You may be interested to know that the gentleman we will be visiting has vast historical knowledge. Perhaps he can help you with your quest?”
“I don’t have anything better to do,” Robert shrugged. He took the letter from the desk and placed it in his knapsack. Augustus hopped up on his favorite shoulder of Robert’s and the stepped out into the sunlight.
Though the morning was still young, the city was already bustling. Workers walked towards the city gates on the main boulevard to their distant job sites, merchants set up their stalls in open markets, and traders unloaded wagons in the tight cobblestone alleyways. An occasional platoon of men clad in deep blue armor would march through the main avenues to wherever their duties took them.
The Hall of Records was a grand building with giant marble columns supporting the facade of the structure, pristine in comparison to most of the other structures in the city. The plaza it sat inside was lined with granite and marble bricks inscribed with the names of fallen heroes and veterans of the Great War.
Inside were rows of bookshelves surrounding an illuminated atrium in the center with a single ancient oak tree stretching to the ceiling several stories up. The city’s banner, the wheel on an azure background, hung over the center aisles, accentuating the building’s regality. Priest scholars in crimson robes scurried around, rearranging shelves, breaking magical seals on ancient grimoires, and transcribing information into tomes.
“Nearly two millennia of knowledge reside within these walls; the only other greater source of information is the Librariums of Imperial City. I am not much of a historian, but I can respect the pain the priests went through to acquire it,” said Augustus in awe. “No matter how many times I make my way through here, it still amazes me,”
“Is this a cathedral?” Robert inquired, observing the stained glass windows depicting important yet unfamiliar religious figures and events.
“At one time, yes. The Ecclesiarchy has always been a steward of knowledge, and during the great war, the priest scholars were invaluable in preserving many of the tomes you see before you.”
One of the hooded priests attending to a table of scrolls noticed Robert wandering through and abandoned his tasks to greet him. He had an aged, wrinkled face with a closely maintained brown and gray beard.
“Welcome to the Hall of Records. How may I help you?” said the priest.
“Janik, my old friend! I was hoping that might be you!” said Augustus as he excitedly scampered around on Robert’s shoulders.
“Mister Pierre! It’s good to see you again! How have your travels fared?”
“Not too well, I’m afraid. My wagon was attacked on the way back to the city, and I was rescued by fair Robert here,”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Robert grasped Janik’s hand through his thick gloves and shook it. Janik studied Robert’s cloaked face, his gaze searching and analyzing.
“You’re not from here, are you? An Ausländer?” asked Janik inquisitively.
“No, as a matter of fact. Augustus said you might be able to help with that.”
“Robert here has a certain condition along with a touch of memory loss,” Augustus hushed his voice. “Perhaps we could examine some artifacts in a more private part of the building?”
“Right this way,” said Janik as he turned his suspicious gaze from Robert and led the duo into a side room, closing the door behind them.
“Go ahead and show him, Robert,” ordered Augustus.
Robert nervously reached up and undid the wraps around his skull, revealing his skeletal visage.
“A revenant in my sanctum!” Janik growled and pointed a finger in Robert’s face “I haven’t been disemboweled yet, so that’s a good start. If Mister Pierre wasn’t here, I’d have you exorcised and ground to bone meal by the Inquisition!”
“No need for hostility, Janik,” said Augustus defensively, “Robert saved my life. He can be trusted.”
“I’m not here to hurt anyone; I just want to know what I am and who I was,” Robert pleaded.
“You’re an abomination, that’s what. Although admittedly, I’m sure that’s no fault of your own. The undead spit in the face of the True God Shev by their mere existence; to deny His afterlife in the realm of Gaia is a grave sin,” said Janik. He shook his head, then glared into Robert’s eyes. “I will help you, then I bid you to leave,”
“That’s fine. I wasn’t planning on staying long anyway,” said Robert coldly through grit teeth.
Janik sighed, and his wrinkled face softened. “Do you remember anything?”.
“Nothing. I woke up on an ashen battlefield wearing what I am now.” Robert removed the map he had taken from the ogre and set it on the table to trace his path.
“Hmm, there used to be a few towns and settlements in that region… Not so much anymore…” Janik flipped through a shelf full of scrolls and unfurled an aged map. “There were several large conflicts in the Southern Continent in the past century. Are you certain you were here?” Janik gestured to a region of plains.
Robert stared intently at the maps, studying the contours and terrain.
“Yes, from somewhere around here, although I can’t tell you anything about how I died. I don’t know who I fought for or who my enemy would have been,”
“Your accent is strange, certainly not from Gotterreich or the southern lands. Victorian perhaps? Although they’ve expanded so much that doesn’t narrow it down much…”
Janik turned to Robert and began examining him, taking a bony finger and tracing the seams and pleats of his attire.
“This armor is non-regulation, so likely a conscript.” He bent closer and examined the leggings and boots. “You must have come from some status, though not quite nobility. Most peasants get sent out with a rusty blade and a tunic. These boots are sturdy and meant to last. Even with the weathering, they’re still holding together quite well. The stitching is a Russ trademark, not uncommon for boots and winter clothing imports. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say your armor also came from the northern regions…”
Janik stood up and wafted his nose.
“I’d recommend a new outfit; you smell like a decade of decomposition mixed with mildew.”
“An ogre I ran into tried to turn me into soup…” said Robert. Janik ignored him and pulled a large book from the shelves, pouring through historical documentation.
“The area you arose in was subject to a mass of conflict. During the Great War, the Victorian Empire invaded Gotterreich, the kingdom that rules this city and much of the surrounding continent. There were several villages in that region; I believe the largest went by Mortenberg. The Victorians had nearly completed their conquest when the Blights appeared.”
“Blights? Like blighted crops?” asked Robert.
“If only. The Great War was only great at creating corpses, something that a group of necromancers took advantage of. They spread their death and disease for years until the Ecclesiarchy gained the power to form the Inquisition, sending their knights to eradicate the dark mages.”
“It was a terrible period. So much fear and pain…” said Augustus shaking his head.
“The last blight was ended at a fort nearby Mortenburg, when the last necromancer was struck down by a divine arrow fired by a fledgling Holy Knight by the name of Dominicus Saunders.The tomes say he was canonized into a saint.”
“Yeah, that’s great and all but what does that have to do with me? I didn’t see a city when I was there—just bodies and scorched earth,” said Robert.
“It was razed from what the tome says. A group of mages summoned a great pillar of fire and incinerated the entire region.”
Robert grew angry, the emerald fires in his eyes flaring.
“So you’re telling me, after all this, I still have nothing to go off of?!”
“Calm down, dead man,” Janik chided. “The same mages who destroyed Mortenberg might hold the answer to the magic that’s holding your bones together. It says they were from a Mage’s guild chapter inside the Victorian Empire.”
“Did they bring me back to life?” Asked Robert, calming slightly from his outburst.
“Unlikely. Most who dabble in the dark arts aren’t usually the kind who are welcomed into society, especially with the Victorians.”
“They’ll have to do,” Robert rolled up his map and stowed it away. “How do I get there?”
“It’s about a week across the sea by ship,”
“We appreciate everything, Janik,” said Augustus. “Robert, aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Right. We have this letter for you,” Robert said as he took out the form Augustus had him deliver here. Janik took it gingerly and looked it over.
“An insurance form? I’ll get it sorted right away. Now get out of here, I can’t be seen with the undead!” he said as he shooed them out of the back chamber.
Robert scoffed and turned to leave, stepping through the door and marching down the central atrium in anger.
“Don’t mind him, Robert. People just aren’t accustomed to meeting a friendly undead like you. Well, you might not be friendly so much with that attitude of yours, but I certainly don’t think you’re a bad person.”
“Thanks, Augustus. I didn’t choose this. I just wish I could go back to being a regular human.”
Robert and Augustus left the Hall of Records in a hurry. They had a destination; all they needed was a means to get there.
“How odd. Normally, the midday rush would have the streets filled with villagers…” Augustus remarked.
Indeed, the populated avenues of this morning were now sparse. The few townies that were about hustled to their destination. On the far side of the plaza, a mother hurried her children inside their residence and slammed the door behind them.
It took Robert a moment to notice the bells ringing throughout Freistadt. Augustus’ cheerful demeanor grew nervous.
“Is something the matter?” asked Robert.
“Those are the bells of the Ecclesiarchy’s churches. They only ring in two instances: weekly mass and to warn of danger. I’ve had much displeasure to hear their ringing during the Blights,” said Augustus. “We’d better take shelter.”
The cacophony of bells continued to sound as they walked back to Augustus’ store, the deep tones speeding their movement.
As the duo rounded the corner to enter the plaza of The Golden Feather, the smell of smoke filled the air.
“My emporium!” screamed Augustus. Robert hushed Augustus and ducked into an alleyway to watch from afar.
The elegant facade of the merchant shop was now covered in flames and char. In front of the store stood a platoon of knights in elegant, bright white armor trimmed with gold and silver. A color guard stood to the side, holding a white banner with a crimson longsword overlaid in front of a blue seven-pointed star.
“Who are these men?” Asked Robert as he peered at the soldiers from behind cover.
“Judging from that chap with the standard, these men are Holy Knights from the Inquisition. They came from across the sea in response to the Blight and never left,” Augustus covered his face in despair “First Reginald, and now my home! What have I done to deserve this?!”
A trio of mounted knights emerged from the alleyways behind the burning trader shop and strode in front of the platoon. One of the knights, a large man decorated with medals and holy scriptures written on parchment seals, strode out before the formation on his extravagant steed clad in layered golden armor. A color guard trumpeter blew his instrument in preparation for an announcement to the mob of citizens who had emerged from their homes to investigate the disturbance.
“Citizens! I am High Lord Konrad Kent. A nachzehrer, an undead revenant, has been sighted within the walls of your glorious city. Let this be an example to show that all who harbor evil in their homes and hearts shall face judgment. Fear not, the 12th Order of the Holy Inquisition will protect the pious!”
The civilians within the plaza clapped and cheered.
A Friestadt soldier approached High Lord Kent and handed him a scroll. Robert narrowed his eyes and recognized him as one of the gate sentries from yesterday, the quiet guard who stood back while the pair entered the city.
“Look upon the form of Death stalking our streets! Do your duty as citizens and report any sightings or rumors of this creature to the Inquisition and our Holy Knights!” High Lord Kent declared.
The High Lord unfurled the scroll and presented a charcoal sketch to the crowd resembling Robert’s ragged attire with the soft green coloration over the eyes. Robert instinctively reached up and felt around the orbit of his brow.
Damn! Was it really that obvious?!
A gang of belligerent men began hurling rocks and garbage at the burning building.
“Death to the undead! Death to the undead!” the crowd chanted.
With a smirk, the High Lord reared his horse and galloped back the way he came. The sergeant dismissed the knights in formation and broke ranks, searching through the burgs in pairs.
“I’m sorry, Robert. I didn’t think the Inquisition would have responded like this…” Augustus said mournfully.
“We’re getting out of here,” Robert said sternly.
Robert turned around and began walking hurriedly. He didn’t know what judgment awaited him, but he knew he didn’t want to face it if he could help it.
“Head for the harbor, my boy. I don’t think we’ll be getting out of here the way we came in,” said Augustus.
Holy Knights were combing the city and interrogating the few people on the street. Robert strode as carefully as he could in the bright light of the afternoon. With the Inquisition alerted to his presence, he didn’t have time to change attire as he desired, and a bare skeleton would gather much more attention than they’d already attracted.
Thankfully, Freistadt had numerous alleys in which to hide. Robert clutched his knapsack tightly, wishing he’d at least kept his knife with him before he left for the day. Even if the trained warriors would surely overpower him, Robert felt he could at least put up a fight. Instead, he stuck to the shadows, watching the patrolling knights from a distance.
Two knights caught Robert’s gaze and began to approach. He gasped and backpedaled through a nearby alleyway, boots pounding hard on the cobblestone pathway.
“Take a right when we reach the street! The shipyard should be just down the street from there!” shouted Augustus.
As Robert moved to leave the alley, he paused as a patrol of knights marched past. They moved intently, scanning and searching through the boroughs as they moved. Robert slipped out and headed right. He could hear the commotion of the docks, and the smell of the ocean breeze wafted over him.
Augustus was correct. They were almost there!
The docks were hustling and bustling with longshoremen loading merchant ships with supplies. The Inquisition was there inspecting the crates as they were loaded and verifying the identity of passengers as they boarded.
“I might be able to buy us passage. I have some wealth squirreled away somewhere around here, no pun intended,” said Augustus.
“No, it’d be too risky with them searching for us. We’re going to have to sneak on board,” Robert stopped and observed the docks, taking in the whole scene. About a dozen ships floated in the harbor, transport barges mixed with smaller private merchant vessels. Cranes loaded large crates and items into the bays and decks of the ships below. Out toward the horizon, a half dozen more warships took up a blockade position around the port, all displaying the same white banners with the crimson sword and blue star in the center, similar in style to the standard the knights had presented earlier.
“Did you have something in mind?” asked Augustus.
“Up there!” Robert pointed at the crates. “If we can create a distraction, we should be able to slip down those ropes and onto a ship.”
“That may be crazy enough to work, dear boy. But how can we make a distraction large enough and escape with our lives?” asked Augustus.
Robert surveyed the docks for anything he might be able to use. The crates looked as if they’d be able to provide ample cover, but nothing they could use for a distraction.
Wait, what’s that on the docks?
Several large cages were on the pier, prepared to be stowed on barges and shipped by the sea. They contained normal livestock; cows, chickens, sheep, but there were other strange creatures stored nearby as well. Robert was not entirely knowledgeable, but it appeared as if there were goblin-like creatures, giant spiders, horned steeds, and other unusual beings.
“What’s with those things in the cages?” asked Robert
“A rather unfortunate symptom of the Great War. The famous Black Forest of Gotterreich used to have such a menagerie of mythical creatures that have been removed from the human kingdoms. I suspect they’re being shipped out to be placed in a zoo or harvested for their rare parts. Shame really.” said Augustus.
One of the cages caught Robert’s attention. Inside the metal bars resided tall, corpulent creature barely able to stand within the cramped confines of the cage. He gasped as he recognized the occupant.
“That’s the ogre who tried to eat me!”
Augustus squinted his eyes as he tried to see who Robert was talking about.
“Oh yes. Ogres aren’t very popular around here. You see they’re very strong and always cause chaos and destruction wherever-” Augustus stopped himself.
Robert nodded in response.
“That’s our ticket.”
Scooping up Augustus into his knapsack and left his hiding position, Robert smoothly crouched down and glided to the crates when out of view of the dockworkers. He repeated the same for each movement, peeking up to see if he was cleared to move then quickly maneuvering to the next stack of containers until he finally reached the cages. The creatures were rather noisy and their numbers drowned out most of the ambient sound.
The ogre rattled at his cage, grunting with frustration.
“Stupid man-tings!” he shouted.
Robert walked up to the ogre’s cage who jumped back with a snarl.
“Dat you Skellyman? Me thought me smell sumptin’ familiar…”
Ignoring the beast, Robert examined the mechanisms of the cage. The latching bars at the top and bottom of the door were easy enough to pull out, but the central lock would not release without a key.
“Augustus,” Robert said to his knapsack, “Know anything about locks?”
The rodent came out of the bag and onto Robert’s hand, who lifted Augustus to the lock. The ogre started squealing in panic.
“Ahhhh! Mousey bad! Stay out Nimgok nose!”
Robert glanced around worriedly. Even with the noise of the livestock, someone might come around and investigate.
“Quiet, you!” he snapped at the ogre, “We’re helping!”
“Huh, huh… Skellyman want be friends wit Nimgok?”
“Yeah. Sure. Whatever. How’s that lock coming, Augustus?”
“Just about… there!”
The lock released with a loud click and Robert was able to swing the door open. The captive ogre stepped out of the cage and stretched his limbs.
“Feel good to stretch… Danks, Skellyman!” Nimgok picked up Robert and squeezed him in a powerful hug, “Me promise me no make you into soup again!”
“You’re welcome. Could you let me go now please!?” Nimgok released his hold and allowed Robert to fall down onto his seat.
“What do now?”
“You just have fun and do whatever ogres like to do,”
“Nimgok like smash. Nimgok smash?”
“Do whatever feels right in your heart, good sir,” said Augustus with a smile. Nimgok returned a grisly grin, then reached over to the cage door and tore it off the hinges in a single motion. He twisted the railings together into an improvised iron club and hefted it over his shoulder. Robert and Augustus were nearly speechless at the immense show of power.
“You could do that at any time?!” Robert shouted with frustration. Nimgok huffed with pride.
“Nimgok strong! But me stuck in cage…”
“…Couldn’t you have just freed yourself from inside the cage?”
“If me do dat, den why me stuck in cage? You make no sense Skellyman…”
“I… Whatever… Have fun, Nimgok!”
“Me will!”
Nimgok frolicked away from the livestock areas, skipping full of joy with his rolls jiggling from each step. He swung his club against the crates, knocking some over while others broke apart and spilled their contents on the ground. The dock workers took notice of Nimgok and began to flee back into Freistadt while the local guard surrounded the ogre, powerless to stop his rampage.
“Right. That should do it,” said Robert.
“You’ve got it from here,” said Augustus as he retreated into the knapsack while Robert skulked around searching for a suitable ship. The ones in that section of the port either had the crew walking around above decks or had their gangplanks pulled up.
It’s too risky to move to another pier and I’m running out of time. I have to find some way on board…
At the end of the pier was a crane behind a warehouse where workers wheeled out barrels to be loaded onto one of the merchant ships.
If I stowaway in one of those barrels, I should be able to be loaded onto that boat.
The entrance and piers were too full of activity, but if he were to get inside from another Robert made his way to the edge of the docks, dodging the patrolling watch of the knights, and climbed underneath. Clinging to the planks, he made his way under the warehouse. Some of them were rotten, worn away from the ocean’s lapping waves.
I’d really rather not go for a swim right now.
With a tug, he could pull apart enough of the wood to make a hole to climb through.
Hoisting himself through the fresh gap, he snuck around the warehouse searching for any empty barrels..
There they were!
A stack of barrels were placed on the back end of the warehouse. Most were full, filled with a liquid which was likely an ale or wine. Some were filled with what sounded like sand and had a residue of black powder around the head and bunghole.
While he skulked through the storage facility, a trio of dockworkers came through the double doors at the front of the building.
“Stop right there!” One of the workers yelled at Robert.
Robert turned and put his hands up.
“Whoa, whoa! I’m supposed to be here! I’m just er- checking inventory!” As Robert spoke, the movements of his jaw was enough to loosen the wraps of his mask, allowing the lower portion to unravel and reveal his skeletal features.
“A Nachzeherer!” The worker frantically motioned to his colleagues,“Get the Knights, dummköpfen!” The other two men ran off to raise the alarm while the worker pulled a hammer from his tawny apron.
“Damn!” Robert shouted as he sprinted for the exit at the opposite end. The worker caught up to him, grabbed his arm, and smacked Robert straight in the skull with the tool. Robert stumbled back, into a wall and knocked down a lit lantern hung above onto the worker’s head. The man screamed as the hot wax scalded his face and wick ignited his hair.
In his agony, the worker snapped Robert’s forearm at the elbow. The edge of the bone jutted out from his outfit at an awkward angle but remained held together by whatever dark magic flowed around his skeleton. Regardless, waves of agony shot up from the injury.
“Ah! You bastard!” Robert shouted. He took his splintered arm and thrust it into the inflamed worker’s shoulder, making the man release his grip and stumbled into a stack of barrels. The flames from the worker’s hair ignited the residue on the outside of the barrels, sparking with a flame and burning the bunghole.
Grasping the peril of the situation, Robert sprinted through the warehouse doors and reluctantly jumped to the waves of the bay below. As he fell underwater, he heard and felt the muffled concussion of the explosions above as the barrels detonated.
Robert struggled about, as he did not have fat or lungs to grant him buoyancy. Fortunately, the floating planks of the destroyed pier drifted overhead and he was just able to grab an edge to pull himself above the waterline and onto the boards. Augustus slid out of Robert’s knapsack sputtering and clung onto his shoulder.
“Please warn me before you do that next time, Robert” sputtered Augustus.
Robert ignored him and paddled towards the ships and away from the flames on the docks. With his ruined arm, he could never climb onto the cranes or even back onto the docks for that matter. As he swam, he looked desperately for an opportunity.
Opportunity struck; a nearby frigate was moored nearby with a net dangling into the water. Robert grasped hold of the ropes and painfully climbed up. He reached the gunport of one of the broadside cannons, rolling over the edge and onto the deck beside several crates. Robert peeked up and gazed over the docks, witnessing the fiery chaos that consumed the piers and the crusaders that scrambled about searching for the undead. The large, decorated knight, Kent he said his name was, scanned the piers pointing angrily to his men.
Robert discovered an empty crate and sequestered himself away, pulling the lid over himself.
“All hands aboard, Captain,” came a serious voice from the upper deck.
“Raise anchor and make for the sea, Bosun! These zealot dogs shant set foot on my vessel!” declared a powerful, booming voice from the aft of the ship.
The sound of the grinding metal of the anchor’s chain drowned out the fury from the docks. The vessel moved and shifted before finally being claimed by the motion of the ocean and slowly pushed out of the bay.
A cacophony of voices shouted from around the ship as the crew scurried about.
“Captain! Inquisition ships are readying their cannons!”
“They’re closing the sea-gate!”
“Men, prepare the countermeasures and set full sail! The Lady’ll clear their line with these winds at our back,” said the booming voice.
Curious, Robert peered through the crack in the lid. He heard a loud bang from above as sails dropped and picked up the ocean’s breeze, making a beeline straight for the blockade.
He could see the crew set barrels alight and leaned them out through the gunports, similar to the powder kegs he ignited himself. Instead of exploding, they emitted a thick, black smog which engulfed the ship and left a dark cloud in its wake. Cannon shots sounded, and more dark clouds appeared in front of the Inquisition navy and enshrouded the warships.
The blockade fired their cannons. A few shots impacted, but he could hear most of the volleys whiz and pass harmlessly overhead as the warships shot blindly. Before the fleet could reload, the escaping ship had already pulled out of the harbor and sailed beyond the reach of the cannons.
Behind them, another merchant vessel who must have been emboldened by their ship’s escape had not been so lucky, as the wrought iron gates clipped their sails and clamped down on the main deck before chomping through the barge Finally, the sea-gate closed and sealed the remaining sea vessels inside.
“Damage report!” Shouted the powerful voice.
“The Lady took a few glancing blows, Cap, but she’ll hold.”
“Aye, let us make for the high seas and celebrate with some grog!”
5711 Writing 