The hunch

“Tell me Jax, what makes you think we will find Shala within Tarsgard,” asked Melvin. “It seems a rather odd choice for a witch.”

“What is the largest Monastery in the Realm?”

“That’s easy,” replied the thief. “The Pantheon of the Blessed in Breakwater.”

“So where do you think the Witch Hunter will be heading? The Pantheon, right. So which is the second?”

Melvin looked perplexed, unsure as to why the Hunter would be going to Breakwater, and also the second biggest in terms of size. It wasn’t a subject he professed to be conversant in; Religion.

“The Sanctuary of Aione,” answered Yulien.

“And that’s in Tasgard, right. So why pick the second biggest? And why a religious building? Surely a witch cannot enter holy ground?”

Jax shook his head and ran off to catch up with Fraevon scouting ahead. “You listen to too many bard’s tales. Yulien, enlighten him.”

Melvin was even more confused than ever, and so listened intently to that which Yulien was about to share with him.

“Firstly, a witch can walk freely upon holy ground, so long as there are buried souls below the earth.”

“A graveyard?” Melvin interjected.

“Yes. The largest of which….”

“Is in Breakwater, at the Pantheon.”

Yulien sighed at his interupting of her explanations, but nodded in agreement.

“Jax thinks, the most obvious place to think to look would be the Pantheon, as proved by the Witch Hunter heading in that direction.”

“And he thinks Shala has thought of that, and so has chosen Tarsgard to hide out being the second biggest and furthest away from Breakwater.”

“Not as dumb as you look,” said Tumbor as he tore the meat off a rabbit leg and chewed down on it loudly.

“Those creatures we’ve seen, they are no doubt the servants of Shala, feasting and reporting back of any that pose a threat to her,” added Rohlen. “My fear is that Tarsgard has already become a city plaqued with the living dead, all under her control.”

“That would explain the lack of traders on these roads,” said Melvin. “But essentially we are travelling to Tarsgard by virtue of a hunch.”

“Look Bob,” said Tumbor, taking a moment to stop chewing. “If he’s right, we kill a load of zombie, kill a witch, and hopefully I get my axe back.”

“If he’s wrong?” asked Melvin quizzically.

“Then we get out of this rain, sleep in a bed and feast upon good food and mead.”

Rohlen threw a stare at Tumbor that saw him shrug his shoulders and go back to his breakfast.

“Then we rest and formulate a new plan.”

Copyright: authorchrisbrown 


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