They traveled to the small town - more like a fishing village really - Tessa had shown them. Saska wasn't inclined to discuss any other topics than the search, so Raviel didn't push the issue. The boy was growing up fast, though, at least physically. Raviel's horse wasn't as happy with them riding double than she had been at the beginning of their journey together.

There they paid to a fisherman who "occasionally carried things between the Raven's and the Old Man's domains for profit" to take them past the mountains. It was a small ship that hugged the coastline as much as possible without running ashore. At Raviel's inquiry why not traverse deeper waters the man only muttered something about "sea serpents".

Their destination on the other side of the border was considerably bigger. Probably close to the non-human settlement in the Lady's domain in size. It was called Serpentbane - by what logic other than trying to sound grand, neither Raviel nor Saska had any idea. The people here were actually not suspicious of strangers. They all carried themselves with utmost confidence - almost like shouting "cause trouble and we'll send you back in pieces" to the world - and judging by their garb and gear quite a few of them were seasoned warriors.

Raviel found it refreshing and somewhat reminiscent of home. Saska didn't like it.

In any case, this was only a midway stop for them. The barony and the sole mountain inside it they were looking for were farther north. Although part of the Old Man's lands, these southern areas apparently were independent of the baron serving him.

After buying a round of drinks - heavy mead that somehow tasted both salty and sweet - in a local tavern Raviel had all the information he could wish for of the area, as well as an offer from a small band of mercenaries to accompany them to their destination. And a hell of a hangover in the morning.

"I am kind of glad you didn't let me drink," Saska commented as he watched the elf sitting on his bed in the room they had rented for the night, holding his head and looking overall miserable.

"Please don't rub it in," Raviel groaned. "I had no idea humans even could brew anything that strong."

"Where did you put all your money?" He experimentally poked the elf's saddlebags and quickly pulled back as a tiny spark jumped from the fabric to his fingers. Still warded. Like always.

Raviel groaned again. Then he removed the small pouch hanging around his neck under his shirt and held it out to the boy.

Saska took it and retrieved a few silver coins before tossing it on the bed. "Thanks. I'll get something from an herbalist." His own little supply was for rarer afflictions, usually of unnatural type. Medicines for coughs and hangovers were far too common for anyone to buy from an Outcast.

"Hey, you! Scrawny kid!" someone bellowed as he was just minding his own business and heading out of the tavern.

He looked at one of the tables, where three soldiers were eating breakfast and talking loudly among themselves. Well, everybody here was talking loudly. "What?" he asked.

One of them, a muscular man with bushy beard and a huge axe strapped to his back, stood up and walked over to him. "Didn't I see you last night? You were with that elf, right?"

Saska nodded slowly, his hand falling to one of the camouflaged pockets hiding his throwing knives. "Yes."

"I knew it! Why don't you go wake your master? We're wasting daylight."

Must have been the mercenaries Raviel had spoken of before passing out on his bed. "He's not exactly in the shape to travel right now. Ask again in an hour or so."

The man stared at him for a moment, then burst out into loud laughter. "Foreigners really can't hold their drinks, eh?"

"Something like that," Saska agreed. "I'll get him back to his feet soon enough. In the meantime..." His eyes narrowed slightly. "...I'd advice leaving him alone. He commands some pretty nasty magic."

He laughed again and slapped Saska on the back in a manner that was probably meant to be friendly. The boy had to quickly adjust his balance not to fall to his face. "We'll see about that. How about you, kid? Why does he drag you along?"

"Information," Saska replied nonchalantly, willing his heart to stop pounding. That was one question he could -never- answer truthfully. "Herbs and concoctions beyond your everyday alchemist. Stuff like that."

"Oh? Cures for hangovers outside your expertise?"

This man clearly didn't believe him. "Just out of ingredients. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an herbalist to visit."

Of course they wouldn't respect him. He wasn't particularly muscular or strong. He didn't know how to wield swords or axes, even less could afford to buy one. And his appearance did give an impression that he was missing an eye - and trying to hide the fact, unlike warriors proudly displaying their battle scars.

He couldn't help rubbing one of his bandaged wrists as he walked. At least they didn't suspect him of being an Outcast. Yet.

~*~*~

Once Raviel had mostly recovered, they set out in the company of the mercenary band. There were a total of seven of them. Four men and three women. All armed and to all appearances ready for battle any time. Saska noticed that the elf addressed their leader as 'Will'. None of them bothered to introduce themselves to him, but that was alright. Better a servant to be ignored than an Outcast to be killed. These kinds of people would not fear any retaliation from the Viscount.

In addition to the seven warriors there was a boy younger than him - maybe twelve or thirteen - driving a tightly covered cart pulled by two horses. Saska was assigned to traveling with him on the driver's seat. Whatever was under the heavy fabric radiated a mild chill, yet he could not sense any...dread from it. Nothing unnatural...or undead.

Raviel both enjoyed the company and took this chance to learn anything he could about slaying the beasts - both natural and unnatural - of the cursed land. He had certainly fought any that attacked them and a few on behest of others, but Will's company actively hunted them. To offer the rarest and grandest ones to the Old Man of the Mountain.

The journey north went smoothly, although there was no way to call it dull. Several nights in a row they were approached by ghouls as soon as night fell. A few times they strayed from the road to hunt some creature or another too. Raviel quickly earned their temporary companions' respect with his magic and skills with the blade.

Saska stayed behind with the other boy - Scott, Will's son - to guard the cart. And just to prove that he was not as useless as they all liked to remind him every day, he carved it with charms to repel the lesser undead. That stopped the nightly wake-up calls due to ghouls.

Raviel just shook his head and suggested in private that he simply ignore the taunts. Yes, he knew it was irritating, but the less visible Saska was, the safer he would be. Besides, he had proven his strength many times over. He didn't need to prove it again to strangers.

Saska rolled his eyes and told him to stop patronizing him. But he still did as Raviel asked. Because the damn elf was right. He needed to remain as invisible as possible.

A little over a week's journey later they arrived to the mountain that had been a constant presence in the horizon for a good while. Their band's destination, however, was not the baron's castle, but instead a low-built, sturdy stone building surrounded by smaller buildings and quite a few tents.

"What is this?" Saska asked as Scott pulled the cart over as close to the large front doors as he could.

The other boy looked at him like he was stupid or something. "The hall to bring offerings to the Old Man of the Mountain, of course."

"People not under the baron's rule bring their own offerings," Raviel explained and dismounted. "Do you still need my help?" he turned to Will, the band's leader.

"Nah, you've done your share," Will replied jovially. Then he removed the cover on the cart to reveal a gigantic serpent's head, easily as wide as his chest. It was frozen solid. Next to it were neatly arranged, sealed clay urns, tied firmly to the cart to keep them from rolling over.

So that was why the cart had always felt so cold and why they had attracted so many ghouls. Saska hopped down and watched as the mercenaries hauled their offerings inside. "I thought we were going to see the baron."

"We will," Raviel replied. "It's only two day's journey from here around the mountain. But I am curious about what happens now. I was told that Scott would get his runes from the Old Man here. You don't have to come in if you don't want to."

Saska snorted. "I'm not scared."

There was some tingling around his wrists, which probably meant he really was entering an area protected by some other Dark Lord than the Viscount, but it was considerably weaker than the encounter at the Lady's lake. For a moment he thought he heard a faint ghostly whisper, but it was gone almost instantly.

Will was talking with a middle-aged woman wearing an archaic armor way too fancy to actually be useful in combat. The serpent's head and the urns were all placed on a large stone slab at the back of the large hall. She presented him with a large black knife which he reverently took.

"That's a ritual knife imbued with the Old Man's power and used to carve the runes with his protection," Raviel explained in whisper. "They came to bring one back home. It's made of special stone that cuts sharply and never breaks."

The woman noticed them and walked over. "Have you come to pledge your lives to the Old Man of the Mountain?" she asked.

"No, thank you," Raviel answered politely. "We are travelers and merely helped in bringing the offerings here."

She nodded. "Then I must ask you to leave. A ritual is starting, and outsiders are not allowed."

"Sorry about that, Raviel," Will said. "But that's how it goes. We'll be here for a few days to give Scott a coming-of-age party of his life, so if you hurry, we can go back to Serpentbane together."