Before first bell, Hagne on night shift still pretended in the role of the Dark Priest, the black robes wrapped around her body, eyeing her positioning near the Cavern Entrance carefully. The fake Dark Priest needed to stand away from the thin evil confining stream of water and also keep a safe distance from the crypt prison due to the unknown condition or state of the prisoner. Hagne noted the arrival of their Mistress and even at distance her pale face and wide darting eyes betrayed her inner fear.

Astera surreptitiously squeezed Thyia’s hand, one locked finger lingering as she finally released the hand of her Warrior Three sister, about to take her first step into the Main Cavern.

A strong comforting hand rested upon Astera’s shoulder.

“Trust in Judge,” whispered Nysa.

Astera blew out a breath. “How has our guest been?”

“I have barely been able to detect her evil behind the stone, although when a cloud her evil diminished, barely detectable, so probably expected. Will I stand at the entrance and see if without my protection you experience her evil?” asked Nysa.

Astera forced a smile. “Only if you rescue me if I do.”

“Certainly,” replied Nysa, returning her smile, while squeezing her shoulder.

Astera stepped forward, her stomach somersaulting, a sweat sheen growing upon her chest, her underclothe clinging annoyingly to her shapely breasts.

“You are not alone,” whispered Thyia.

Should she order Thyia to stay back? Should she ask? Astera swallowed instead, relieved. She knew what to expect and she knew her reaction, from last time, and the shame. As Mistress she needed to endure, needed to resist and demonstrate her mettle.

After each step Astera nodded. Nysa waited at the entrance, her hand grasping and releasing the shield enarmes in one hand while the other toyed with the pommel of her sword. On her toes, Nysa sprinted to Astera’s side the moment Astera and Thyia froze.

“Nothing and then my body became gripped by her evil. Paralysed, my mind fought this time sensing and recognising the evil essence as an urge. Trying to wrest my control away and then … you and his light.”

Thyia draped herself over Astera in relief, gradually gaining control of her breathing. Astera grabbed Thyia's hands resting them across her chest, a reassurance for both.

“I sense her evil essence strongly now, perhaps she is in her true form? Would it be useful for all the sisters to stand by here to experience the evil and steel themselves against the false fear?” suggested Nysa.

Astera stared at the crypt, her previous bane, desperate not to fail again before the unnatural onslaught upon her mind.

“Yes, my second encounter avoided the embarrassment of the first and the practice may just make the difference. The Master’s evil far greater of course, although the same. Which means if the evil essence depends upon the age of the agent, the Watcher must have been near newly recruited although the depth of her evil, great, to require the number of Items she embedded into herself.”

“Mistress.”

Astera gave away tapping on her chin, searching for Nysa. Before her eyes fell out of her head, Nysa closed the distance rapidly, once again placing her under Judge’s inner light.

“I …”

“Clearly proves, you can distract your mind and ignore the influence. Therefore, if the sisters can recognise and learn the evil essence is a compulsion and not real, when exposed in the future they may retain a level of self-control,” said Nysa.

Astera fiercely hugged Nysa. Proof, absolute proof beyond measure Astera’s mind could totally resist the influence if she concentrated and with practice perhaps retain her free will. Overjoyed she released, stared at Nysa, embraced and released again. Astera then turned upon Thyia kissing her deeply.

Nysa amused, tolerating her Mistress’ behaviour stoically. She sympathised with Astera, her fear of the evil inhibiting and now hope. Nysa couldn’t comprehend her Mistress’ failure and shame and therefore unable to offer any words of absolution, capable of comfort or support and nothing more. This controlled exposure to the fear may make an important difference in the battles to come and a confident Mistress probably more so. Nysa then wondered what else they could discover about their guest.

Astera and Thyia strode off towards the entrance, an arm wrapped around the waist of each other. Their steps slowed although didn’t halt and Nysa imagined the effort and self-control, gradually though they continued, hugging when clear. Astera glancing over her shoulder grinning at Nysa in celebration. Hagne an additional observer, eager to report their Mistress' success to her Seer Sisters.

Nysa then considered the two corpses and the damaged grotesque wooden box; all would need to be disposed of. The red gloss, definitely the blood of many lined the inside of the panels. What would the evil do now without this haven? Could she convert the stone tomb she now occupied? Questions without answers.

She shook her head in frustration, accidently noticing her audience. Kyra, amused leaning against the stone wall of the passageway on the threshold into the Main Cavern. Three Goblin Sisters settled on their haunches before her, waiting in silence. Nysa waved the Goblin Sisters to her. In response they tilted their heads back, in askance to Kyra, who nodded in consent. Kyra escorted them.

Nysa searched both bodies finding nothing useful, not even coins. Two Goblin Sisters grabbed the larger of the two, while the third assisted Kyra with the smaller body. Staying shoulder to shoulder with Kyra, the Goblin Sisters helped her remove the bodies from the Main Cavern.

Standing over the box, well-crafted and sort of whole even after its treatment, Nysa sensed the cruelty and suffering radiating from the evil construct. Braving the worst, she leant into the coffin-like rectangle and fished out a finely made and blood red coloured gown. A gown of such finery, only a Duke’s Ball would be a suitable outing.

“A prize or a curse?” asked Kyra, easily sneaking up upon her Warrior Three Sister, usually difficult given their link.

“One dress, many women?” replied Nysa, raising an eyebrow. She ran her fingers across the fabric, fine and smooth, silk? Very rare, as silk couldn’t be traded for any longer since the overland trade collapsed generations ago. In slow motion, tumbling and cascading from her fingertips she threw the exquisite and rare dress back, quickly grabbing one end of the box. A Goblin Sister beat Kyra to lift the other end.

The small blood drained body bereft of moisture burnt fiercely, igniting the box, which burst into flame radiating a scorching cleansing heat. The larger body melted before their eyes exposed to the conflagration. Nysa chanted a quiet prayer to Judge for the two innocent souls and the blood of many. Kyra quirked her head slightly, did she rightly hear a muffled scream?

---

Dione and Zoe exchanged sly looks and reined in their horses, simultaneously. Alcmene and Niobe stared at their sisters slightly annoyed, being so close to home, why would they stop all of a sudden? Dione insisted they rode from the farm during the pre-dawn! North until they found the trail from Oxrest, so as to appear to have ridden from the village.

“You noticed as well?” Dione asked.

“Yes, the Inn’s stable is in use,” said Zoe.

“Yes, and why are you two all secret and wary?” asked Alcmene.

Zoe answered, “The trails are closed to all but the desperate or dedicated and we know the Evil has called for help …”

Niobe begged, “Please say we are going to stay somewhere warm again tonight?”

Zoe shifted in her saddle, casting sympathetic eyes towards Niobe.

“You and Dione can continue on to the House if Alcmene agrees to stay with me in the Stable so we can follow them once they enter town. Given the intruders yesterday afternoon these could be more servants of the evil.”

“For Niobe, I agree,” said Alcmene, smiling at a relieved Niobe.

Dione remained silent, she needed to report the facts to Astera … as leader of the expedition.

They continued their ride up the winding path to the town gate. The guards opened the gate as the first rays of sunlight dawned, which bathed the four riders majestically. Silhouetted and haloed, unrecognisable for several heartbeats, causing no small amount of toing and froing, shields raised against the unknown and drawn spear tips, and swords reflecting the sunlight.

Under nervous welcoming waves from the guards Zoe and Alcmene led their four horses to the stable while a smiling Niobe and amused Dione made for the House.

The stable cut down the wind chill providing a warm and comfortable stay with an unpleasant aroma of horse.

“Warm sister?” asked Zoe.

Alcmene’s eyes inspected her attire and inwardly smirked.

“I could be warmer, perhaps?”

“Why didn’t you say sooner, days ago?”

Zoe began adjusting Alcmene’s layers of clothing, skilled hands unlacing and lacing leather throngs to better position the furs to provide extra layers where required, although her underclothe, felt and armour constituted a snug and warm foundation.

“I am sure if I were naked, you could dress me more effectively?” mewed Alcmene.

Zoe’s hands froze. “I apologise Sister, I am concerned about your warmth, I …”

“Your face Zoe. Priceless!”

Zoe hastily finished.

“I apologise, you can’t fault a sister for trying, after all we have noticed how you’re abstaining from Astera and Thyia’s company and well Clymene shared a little secret with me, so perhaps …”

A sharp intake of breath, followed by a sneeze alerted them, the stable housed a shy third.

---

Sleeping during the night always proved difficult, nevertheless required as his Item ladened body would slow and resist his direction otherwise. The forced journey by wagon an example, travelling day and night, although still requiring some bells of rest, falling into sleep. Those with him forced to tolerate his timetable, as he didn’t trust any of his companions to drive the wagon in his stead.

The wind and the snow ensured they met no other on the trail and yet spying out of his Inn Room window four riders casually rode their horses at a walk up the winding trail to the yet to be opened Town Gates. Their smallish shapes would suggest four females, more surprising they paused and while pretending conversation, at least one cast their eyes upon the Inn’s stable.

His eyes studied their progress, all accomplished riders and as they arrived at the gate a ruckus broke out and then blinding rays of sunlight from the fresh dawn stabbed at his Item induced day time vision stunning him. He crouched down hands upon his eyes in a silent scream. He blinked, casting his eyes about the shadows in his room, bright light filling his vision.

A shy tap on his door, causing him to curse under his breath. “Yes?”

He recognised the voice, the considerate and apologetic Mage.

“I beg several bells of preparation, perhaps we enter the Town before dusk to beat the Town Gates closing?”

He wanted to shout him down and leave now, no more delay, he ground his teeth realising his blindness incapacitated him.

“If you must Mage, you best be the best you can be to explain our delay,” he growled.

“Yes, for sure, beyond expectations, I can do what I say with the time you allow me erm … thank-you.”

He would need to confine himself to his room, he couldn’t show any weakness. Throwing his body upon the bunk, he closed his eyes and granted this feeble body which trapped him, more sleep, resisting the urge to remove all the accursed Items and return to his former glory.

---

Zoe nodded to Alcmene, while stringing her bow.

“Come out and show yourself. Now,” ordered Alcmene, silently sliding a dagger from its sheath.

Several horses clopped about in their stalls. One neighed, although not in panic.

Zoe pulled back on her bow. “We won’t ask again, if we need to hunt you down, we will.”

A pitiful figure half-stumbled out of a horse occupied stall, an unsteady hand holding a dangling horse blanket out in front.

“I only wished to find warmth, just a single blanket which I return … and … sorry. Please don’t harm me, I will leave …”

Her dirty, ill-kempt dark brown hair fell forward to mask her face, her feminine voice confirming her sex at least. The morning light strong enough to reveal the rags she wore, ill-fitting threadbare shirt and baggy trousers, the length too short to cover her ankles, revealing a sandal on one foot and none on the other, hence her limping gait.

“Who are you,” asked Alcmene, her hand on Zoe’s arm pushing her bow down and away from the suffering woman.

Her head rose and quickly fell. “A wretch, cast out after years of faithful service for obeying orders, when I shouldn’t have.” She dropped the horse blanket and swung her body around, lurching towards the rear door of the stable, unable to walk past the two who called her out, the shame overwhelming.

“Wait!” called Alcmene, while the wretch before them appeared cold, possibly hungry, her token clothes didn’t conceal the well-toned and otherwise fit, if not martially trained body underneath and her cute upturned nose extremely endearing, gaining Alcmene’s sympathy and interest.

The wretch paused, undecided. Where could she go if she left here? Maybe they would help an outcast such as herself? She straightened and while facing away combed back her hair with her hands forcing lengths to perch behind her ears. Next she patted down her shirt, tugging the ends to ensure they sat over the top of her trousers, the best she could manage.

Turning she searched for the eyes of the one who asked her to wait, the green eyed one, she hoped.

“My name is Lysisa, now banished from the Temple of Saph, left to fend for myself as I am, instead of being whipped and beaten, a small concession for my years of service, although I believe they expect the last month of Death Season to do their dirty work for them.”

“Why banished?” asked Alcmene, her hands upon her cheeks trying to comprehend the banishing of a Seer, although perhaps not, possibly a Single Seer.

“I escorted a Seer into the chill of Death Season, I counselled her not to, but being a lowly guard, my protest ignored. We struggled through until we reached the House of the Daughters of the Duchess to deliver an overdue missive from the Duchess herself.”

She sniffed to collect herself. Why tell her tale of woe to these strangers? Would they show sympathy for one of the special few, fed and clothed through Death Season, warm when many others shivered?

“I barely survived, the Seer broken, her Seer Skill lost due to frost bite. I escorted her back to the Temple, cared for her as best I could and then two male guards, I thought my friends dragged me before the Mother Superior. They stripped off my uniform until naked, threw these rags to me and banished.”

Zoe spoke, “I, we are Daughters of the Duchess …”

Red rimmed eyes teared as she reached for her hair, grabbing knots upon knots, pulling.

“Your Duchess ordered me hung, drawn and quartered, the reason will amuse you. The Mother Superior informed me the sentence due to the message being destroyed, no concern for the Seer or myself, that is the person you serve. The Mother Superior convincing the deranged bitch the spectacle wouldn’t be possible in Death Season and a beating and banishment would be punishment enough as I would be unlikely to survive as an outcast and face a slow ignominious death.”

Heedless of the risk and before Zoe could grab her, Alcmene dashed forward and embraced the wretched former guard.

“We take her sponsorship although we establish our own reputation. You my dear are welcome to stay here, with us … if you wish to.”

Zoe grasped her bow, the hands once in the woman’s hair lowered as clenched fists around Alcmene. A boxing of her ears, a twist of her head snapping her neck, this woman held enough of her former strength and current rage to do either. The release and flight allowed for a minute margin of success, although Zoe called upon her Items to assist in preparation.

Her hands clenched and unclench several times before deciding to wrap themselves around Alcmene, her sobbing loud enough for Zoe to appreciate, prompting her to lower her bow. Alcmene waved Zoe forward.

“Can we find, or share come clothes and furs?”

“We still need to unpack and groom the horses and our sisters did liberate everything …”

Releasing the former guard for a moment, Alcmene raised a finger. “What weapons can you wielded? We could visit a certain place, couldn’t we?” Her eyes finishing on Zoe.

“The House would be closer, and you aren’t thinking Sister, the guards would keep any weapons for safekeeping.”

A voice spoke in hushed tones almost too afraid. “Why, erm … why do you have a bow?”

Zoe tapped the side of her nose, before smiling. “I have a number of bows hidden about, this is my stable bow, which I will leave hidden here when we leave.”

“There are four sisters who wield spears and two who wield swords, so surely they must be as smart as you,” suggested Alcmene.

“Perhaps, so which weapons should we look for?” Zoe directing her question to Lysisa.

“Spear and Shield, would be my best combination, although I am also proficient with Two-handed Spear.” An inkling of confidence crept back into her voice, Alcmene handing her clothes and furs from some of the load.

Lysisa ripped off her shirt, tearing a strip of cloth from the bottom to wrangle her hair into place, her upper body nakedness freely on display. Alcmene resisting the temptation to wipe away some dirt smudges. Mistaking Alcmene’s interest for shock she paused.

“After another unfortunate incident in your House, Astera I believe is her name, my eyes strayed into temptation, purely martial interest I assure you and for the transgression no female guards would serve with me, unclean low temptress they named me, so if I wanted to stay, I could only barrack with the male guards … it became difficult until I … well, became more affable.”

Alcmene’s heart sank, such a waste, the ruin of her virginity dooming the Single Seer, forever to mourn her Seer Skill loss alone.

Lysisa lowered her eyes and ripped off her trousers, no loin cloth underneath. Zoe handed her a loin cloth, slapping Alcmene’s hand away trying to offer help, allowing Lysisa to dress herself. Unknown to the ex-guard, Alcmene pouted and stomped away to fetch more furs.

“Sister behave, you aren’t a child,” sent Clymene.

“I know, but I would enjoy bathing her and dressing her all the same, raise her spirits, the poor thing never to awaken her Seer Skill and Zoe the prude is spoiling any chance of an early acquaintance.”

“We aren’t the frivolous Seer Pair of almost a year ago, we are Daughters of the Duchess now, so time to be proper and not go gah-gah over the new girl. Also, Astera hasn’t confirmed she will be welcomed, she rejected us when we made the original offer if you recall.”

Alcmene hmphed and lugged back some additional clothes and furs. To her dismay Zoe dressed Lysisa, instructing her how to layer the various clothes and furs, now waiting for Alcmene for more and the pair of fur lined boots she finally found.

“I can help unpack the horses and with grooming, then what?” asked Lysisa, the warmth of the clothes and to some extent the present company finally sinking in. From hopelessness to a possible future in less than a day.

---

The Inn’s common room lay deserted as he strode towards the twin doors and freedom from the stink of human sweat. His own sweat intolerable, another consequence of the Items embedded within in. In the city, in Parium, he took to bathing, often, which amused him given his evil nature and Judge’s curse, although again where the Items proved a burden, they also, occasionally provided a relief.

His eyesight now clear, impending dusk welcome nevertheless as he confirmed the Town Gates open and the traffic climbing the winding trail to reach them non-existent. The sleet and ice crunched underfoot as he strolled over to the corral, casually leaning against the railing, waiting. His companions and the Mage needing to eat, once again, before making ready. The Town confiscated large weapons and to avoid any disagreement at the Gate they agreed to leave their larger weapons in the safe keeping of the Innkeeper. Carrying no large weapons or having any intention of returning he scoffed at their concerns while waiting outside and appreciating the ambiance of Death Season.

“I would prefer to maintain my disguise.”

He heard his halting footsteps and ignored them. One of his Master’s beneficiaries, one with rank amongst those in the City and presumably in this backwater Town as well.

Without paying him any attention. “I don’t care what you wish to do or not, your companions decided a secretive visit from you would allow easier passage and retention of your weapons.”

The sneer sounded in the first word of his reply. “These are women, they would be restricted to daggers as well presumably …”

“They are the Daughters of the Duchess, their deeds and collected fame in the Duchy is well known, perhaps you underestimate them?” His words spoken to amuse himself at the blood bag’s expense. If the Daughters proved troublesome, he would reveal his true self and finish the contest quick, at best these companions would provide a distraction to the enemy, at worse they would be a burden, and most likely just get in the way.

“You jest, surely?”

“What does he jest about?”

He took great delight in savouring his first visitor’s body jerk at the new arrivals question. Evidently his hearing lacking or his concentration too fixed to discern her approach.

“Shit, don’t sneak up like that?”

She lightly laughed. “Use your ears, we are in enemy territory are we not?”

“He wants to enter the Town disguised.” A renewed discussion would help pass the time, the only truly important blood bag he waited for being the Mage. When the pitiful magician arrived, he would just growl and order them to do as he said.

“We agreed,” she howled, in a low hiss.

“I have decided I shouldn’t be seen here as I made another excuse for my absence.”

Hands on hips, her chin pointed. “Why didn’t you say this morning, what about your weapons? You willing to surrender your sword, what did you say, an extension of your arm such is your skill …”

Climbing up upon the corral rails and settling his bottom, his head finally turned looking down to meet her blazing eyes.

“They are only woman with daggers …” He shrugged his shoulders and smirked.

“I am a woman you shit!”

“Well enough said then.”

“They are dangerous woman if their reputation holds and apparently men underestimate them, which is what you are doing, fool!”

He sensed the Mage’s egress from the Inn, his breath puffing slightly, his blood pulsing in his plague constricted arteries. Not even worth drinking he mused.

“Enough,” he growled.

The Mage accompanied by the others of their expedition joined them, pausing, appraising and guessing at the silent standoff.

“We go in disguised, daggers only, as humble survivors of a harrowing trip, our trade goods lost, although thankful for our survival.”

He stared down each, searching for an inkling of descent, they wisely showed him none, regardless of their own inner truth as revealed to him by their increased heart rate.

“Right, well good to see we are in agreement,” said the Mage, who hefted his backpack, scanned the climb before them and led the way.

---

Lysisa observed and admired the street urchins. Leather wraps around their feet, their ragged clothes, shirts and trousers dirtied and torn covering soft furs, their real clothes, topped off by a makeshift cap or hat. Somehow, they knew to visit the stables and from there watch and report.

As near as she could estimate, at least six, possibly seven urchins reported to Zoe, ignoring herself and Alcmene entirely, no nod, no wave, no utterance. They belonged to Zoe.

“I skulked about them the moment they left the Gate and then making like I became brave all of a sudden, I dashed out in front of them, begging and wailing about my misery and how some coin would save my life.”

Zoe observed Wormy while he reported, his shaking not due to the cold, his eyes sharp, bright and alert. An animal who just survived death wary of another visit.

“One stared through me, growled ‘be gone’. His words meant nothing, most we meet swear and curse, while telling us to piss off.” He took in a breath, swallowing before continuing. “His eyes Mistress, his eyes reached inside me and stopped my heart and if my bladder held any water, I would have pissed my pants, I don’t mind saying.”

“I said to Wormy, I knew the stranger evil and bad, his companions gave him space, none walked shoulder to shoulder with him …”

Lysisa noted how the female urchin reached for and held the other by his hand. Wormy, strange name, apparently their leader.

“Tell Mistress evil has arrived, one in particular of seven walking towards the House bold as bronze along Gate Road. We will keep the urchins here safe and send any others as well to keep them out of harm’s way,” sent Alcmene to Clymene.

“Ask Zoe to scout them, you follow behind at a safe distance. Mistress suggests you see if our new acquaintance will volunteer without prompting. Take your weapons, she will explain to the Town Guard if you are spotted and accused.”

“What of the House? We can hurry instead and help …”

“No need. The Mistress is … glowing with purpose and energy. She needs you to follow up to ensure none who trespass escape her trap.”

“Her trap?”

“She reasons their Master calls to them, so they will hurry to his side … I am wanted, good luck my dear sister.”

“Rest for now Wormy while I consider your news,” said Zoe, her hands resting upon his shoulders, his girlfriend eying Zoe intently, mentally comparing their breasts and wondering if a new rival for his affections now revealed herself.

The urchins gathered in a horse stall, while Alcmene whispered in Zoe’s ear. Zoe made an obvious motion to grab her bow, string the weapon in one well practiced motion and hitch a quiver across her back. Meanwhile Alcmene finished off her armour, strapping hardened leather greaves on her lower legs and vambraces on her arms.

“Where are you going?” Lysisa’s head in a spin given the sudden preparations, both sisters transforming to warriors before her eyes, noticing for example the hardened leather breastplate under Alcmene’s robe for the first time. The fit perfect, an additional, natural layer of skin such the crafting skill.

When ready they nodded to each other.

Wringing her hands, Lysisa asked, “Whatever your intent I am skilled in weapons I can help. Please can I help, you have both shown me such kindness and welcome.”

Alcmene looked back over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow. “We go to combat evil and possibly forfeit our lives while doing so.”

“I will join you. I must join you and if I prove myself perhaps your Mistress will look favourably upon me despite your Liege wishing for my death.” Her hands splayed open palms up, beside her, eyes pleading.

A spear shaft slapped into one open palm, alerting her to the presentation of a shield shortly after. Zoe smiled, white teeth showing, broadcasting her invitation to battle. Lysisa stabbed the spear into the ground freeing her arm to assist the other slip into the enarmes of the shield, the fit snug … and familiar. Her stomach settled with an inner warmth, a warrior invited into service, a Single Seer finding a purpose after loss. Zoe’s finger lightly touched upon her cheek and gone before she knew, wiping away her single tear.

“Come warrior sister and join us in battle and possibly share our fate, death and uncelebrated glory.”

Lysisa hugged Zoe, her shield protecting them both as a consequence and after release she snatched her spear and demonstrated her well-practiced battle stance, shield protecting her side on torso her eyes peering over the top rim, with spear set on the shield’s edge.

“Ready.” The single word snapped out like a salute.

---

The seven gathered around the elder’s door, the Mage pointing and hinting, three standing one side of the door, the other three opposite, blocking any clear view of him working his magic to any unlikely passer-by. The separation necessary and part relief as their leader, when close to him sent a shiver up his spine, he wasn’t all human, although he looked human, of that the Mage certain! Finally, here and his reward close, he required cautious haste and then freedom would be his from this strange company. Throughout the journey little conversation and certainly no introductions. The others, evil in their own way he surmised although still human, ambitious for power or drawn to intrigue and probably won over with promises.

The Mage called upon a small quiet spell; it would reach out tentatively in the direction he faced for magic. He drew the magic to cast the spell from his silver ring and its tendrils formed and touched the door. Incredibly, a strong magic response. No mere spell cast upon the door, an enchantment. An enchantment! His heart beat faster, in response the leader’s head snapped around to eye him. A cold shiver ran the length of his spine as he spied upon the cause. He gulped and tried to calm himself, he didn’t wish to attract the evil eye of their leader any more than ever.

He returned his attention to his discovery, never thinking he would ever live long enough to find an enchantment, this though, stupendous. Sure, some ancient and even old weapons, jewellery and the like carried enchantments, this door though recent, ten years, perhaps twenty years old and no one could enchant a weapon in recent times since the magic went away let alone wasting such a vast quantity of magic on a door! The source of this magic must be plentiful or the more improbable; renewable, to waste it so.

The Mage almost considered following this company of felons inside, pausing in deep thought instead, whoever cast this enchantment would probably react violently to any uninvited guests. While he could attempt to force this door, he would search for an ordinary one first, surely the magician responsible couldn’t enchant a second!

He signed to his company to follow him and it didn’t take long to half circle the building on the non-Inn side and find the loading dock. Sending his spell out again, disappointed and elated to discover these doors held no enchantment, an ordinary obstacle only and something he was well equipped to handle. The lack of enchantment also told him the magic wielded by the occupants of House did have a limit, which reassured him somewhat. This also meant he would collect his reward and leave in haste, this building wasn’t going anywhere, and he could return later with more magic at his disposal and no unsavoury hanger-on-ers in tow.