It did not take long after departure from Dunwood before the ancient stone ruins appeared on the horizon. This was partly due to the fact that Alwyn set his team at a significantly faster pace than earlier in the day. It was true that he hadn't intended to pay for an inn at the village, even if they had been available. However, camping too near to Dunwood while it was waylaid by the sudden influx of northerners set him ill at ease. Many members of the crowd, he had noticed, were of an impoverished and bedraggled ilk.
Pitching camp so near a place with such people, he figured, could prove too great a temptation for the destitute, whose listless eyes could hide a spark of malice for those who have yet to share their fate. It would not be a challenge to face such opponents for Alwyn or his men, but he sought to avoid whatever conflict was not necessary. It was only the beginning of their journey, after all. There was much greater uncertainty and labor ahead. Ragnar's Road continued north, and it was late afternoon when the party came to the bridge that crossed the narrow Rechkin river.
Even just a few hours out of Dunwood, there was a noticeable sparsity to the landscape once the Rechkin had been crossed. Neatly lined farm fields of golden grains were replaced by sprawling pastures of meadow foxtail and reed canary that folded over complacently in accordance with the will of the northern winds. Silent in their resting place, the stones of Hollowhearth stood solemn watch from the top of the western hill. A hill from which the sun was just beginning to crest by the moment the timeworn trail came into view. Alwyn slowed Vuster down to a trot as he clicked the reins, signalling him to turn onto the path.
Though narrow enough that the men were forced to ride up single-file, the dirt road presented itself as a clear guide to the forgotten ruin. It had not been travelled regularly for decades. Hollowhearth as a whole had been abandoned long before Alwyn's living memory, yet the humble road refused to be besmirched by grass or weed. Perhaps it was that in its heyday it had been so thoroughly trampled that seed was unable to pierce the hardened soil that marked its route. Regardless, the stoic walls keeping constant vigilance at the voiceless march below gave the impression that the path itself recalled its purpose, and gave no quarter to the vegetation that sought to impede it of its duty.
As the party reached the crown of the hill, the ground leveled out into a relatively wide space around the structure. Surveying the area, Alwyn wordlessly dismounted.
"Not exactly what I'd had in mind when I'd suggested an inn, Al."
Nathaniel rode his mount alongside Vuster before dismounting himself. A chill on the evening breeze brought on a subconscious shiver.
Alwyn cast him a sideward glance. "Best get used to it. It's like to be one of the more comfortable accommodations we'll receive in the coming moons. Besides, she's out of the way and gives a good view of the region."
And he was right. Looking in any direction provided a stunning view for miles. Easily, the bridge from which they crossed the Rechkin could be seen to the southeast. Further to the south it could even be seen where the Rechkin joined the larger Selbrin River that flowed past Rivengarde and into Lake Brakmir.
"Sir Heinrich, Sir Zachariah, tie up a picket line and tether the horses. Sir Harris, Sir Nathaniel, we'll scout the interior for a suitable place to camp." Alwyn turned to Sir Nemian, who gazed outward from beneath his hood, "is that alright with you, Sir?"
Turning slowly, the elder knight nodded in reply.
"Let's make quick work of this before the last of the light is lost."
It was clear that entering through what was formerly the main entrance was no-longer an option. A large tree had rooted itself in the cracked foundation beneath the passage and had, for what looked like decades, been climbing upward until it extended through a roof that no longer existed. From the front, the remains could have been mistaken for a chapel or an abbey. What had once been the building's second floor was known only by the vaulted skeletal frame that crowned it above the front. Blown out windows created the appearance of large gashes on either side of the doorway.
Even after only a brief viewing straight on, it was obvious that the majority of the southern end of the building had collapsed beneath the weight of time. Alwyn motioned, and the trio navigated to the right until they were on the north side of the ruin. Curtained by a mixture of tall brush and dangling vines, Alwyn found what he had been looking for - a large, unblocked window, its dislodged stones nearly forming it into a doorway. After cutting away the more troublesome vines, Alwyn threw a leg over the lichen-covered window-ledge and into the interior. He scanned the small chamber as he awaited the entry of his fellow knights.
Though heavily decayed, it appeared as if the room had once been one of the inn's bedchambers. Hardly a trace remained of any of the furniture, save for a couple of ancient logs and bits of scrap metal that were too rotten and warped to be able to ascertain their intended purpose. Though he had brought one along, there was little need for the light of a lantern with how easily the day was able to pierce what little remained of the roof. Once he'd heard the final set of feet step into the room, Alwyn made his way to the former chamber door, and into what was left of the hall.
"Y'know I've heard of this place, mostly campfire tales from the common folk when I'm in the area…what're the odds it's haunted?" Sir Nathaniel spoke, banishing the silence from the corridor.
"By rats, perhaps." Quipped Sir Harris, more to himself than the others as a duo of vermin scurried startled from their hiding place.
"Because I've seen a ghost or two, mostly harmless, less it's them angry spectres. I prefer an opponent I can swing an axe at, but with them you gotta send for the luminaries for a whole cleansing, then it's a shit-licking hassle."
Sir Harris shrugged as he poked his nose into a secondary, equally moldering bedchamber.
"Common folk say all sorts of nonsensical rubbish, it's how they pass most of their time. If I took their word for it, I'd be of the mind that every seashell in Sgolth Mairn is haunted by something or other."
"Search the chambers. See if there isn't a place that isn't buried in rubble large enough for us to rest." Alwyn ordered.
There were around half a dozen openings along either side of the hall that presumably led to more bedchambers before turning a bend at the southern end along a partially collapsed wall. Sir Harris sighed as he stepped through to inspect a room on the opposite side of the corridor from Alwyn, while Sir Nathaniel carried along to see how much more of the structure was intact. Alwyn himself tread carefully into the next of the sleeping quarters, feeling the harsh crunch of gravel and glass beneath his boots. Despite being slightly larger than the last, it appeared that the rooms had been constructed in a uniform fashion - and had crumbled in a similar manner. Alwyn pursed his lips as he knelt down to delicately sift through the refuse.
It was more from curiosity than necessity. If they wound up unable to shelter within the ruin, perhaps, Alwyn figured, he might find something useful out of it. He presumed that a second-floor had once stood above him, seeing as there seemed to be a greater amount of debris as opposed to the room they had entered through. Almost the entirety of the floor was blanketed, save for a precious few spots in which a few desperate weeds were being suffocated by the cracked foundation. One end of the outer wall had caved-in on the gap left by the window, causing Alwyn to squint even more in the impending twilight.
A thick cloud of dust made further searching fruitless after several minutes had been spent flipping a number of the heavier broken stones. Rising to his feet, Alwyn turned and made to search the next of the chambers, before a noise heard after his next step gave him pause.
clink
He tapped his foot down once more, and heard the distinct sound of metal on stone, a sound he would have certainly overlooked had he been wearing his armor. Kneeling down, he pulled a bent, circular hunk out from beneath his boot no larger than a saucer. Alwyn smudged the dust off of the tarnished silver and lifted it to the sky so as to inspect it more clearly.
"Al, you might want to come take a look at this!"
He could almost make out the emblem etched into the object.
It looks just like-
"Alwyn!"
Nathaniel's bellowing reverberated throughout the edifice so loudly, Alwyn reckoned it could bring the rest of the walls down upon them.
"Coming your way!" He shouted in reply.
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Alwyn hastily shoved the thin metal object into his breast pocket and strode back out into the hall. Having apparently wandered out of the vicinity, he followed the path of his fellow men around the bend of the hall until the pair of knights came into view. Alwyn stalked over to the frozen duo, having thought up a chastisement along the way.
"Chambers I've seen have been small enough to not require four eyes apiece. What's all this about, then?"
Both Sir Nathaniel and Sir Harris remained rooted in place.
"I thought you'd said this place weren't haunted." Sir Nathaniel did not turn to face him as he spoke.
"I've never been here, Nathaniel." Sir Harris retorted, before adding incredulously, "Suppose there's always a chance."
Alwyn, readying harsh reprimand, swallowed his frustration as he noticed their surroundings at last. They were standing at the entrance to what must have originally been the great hall. One of the arches that had supported the towering roof still stood above, spanning from one end of the broad space to the other. What little remained of the furniture was scattered across the floor in unrecognizable pieces, as it had been everywhere else they had seen thus far. Only the stone remained, and what had been carved out of it.
A large hearth, framed in the center of the far wall, sat where it was undoubtedly once enjoyed by a large audience in the coldest nights of frostfall. It was to this hearth that Alwyn now focused his attention in the same manner that his companions' had been drawn. Within the cold hearth wherein no fuel lay stood a single blue flame. It hovered silently and forlorn in the center of the nook, thin tendrils of flickering blue licking upwards before sputtering out. Each of the trio stood for several moments transfixed, the only movement being the rhythmic, noiseless motion of the ghostly flame, and the shadows that it cast on the somber ruin.
"This is your domain, Captain. I don't suppose you have any notion of what that might be?" Sir Harris asked.
Alwyn scanned his mental repository, failing at an attempt to find an explanation.
"I've heard many tales of spirits of the living coming back in some form or other from beyond the reaches of death. Never seen the spirit of something that wasn't alive."
"What about them nature spirits?" Sir Nathaniel queried, his focus still mesmerized on the eerie spectacle before them, "They're spirits without ever havin' been alive."
"It's different," Alwyn began, quickly shaking his head, "they need to be connected to a living thing."
"I don't see a great many living things in here besides us, I'd say that rules it out."
Hesitantly, Alwyn stepped forward between the two knights to attempt a better look.
"Has it…done anything, since you've been watching?"
"Aside from everything it already shouldn't be able to?" Sir Harris swallowed hard, his uncertainty preventing him from reaching the same caliber of sardonic response he was trying for.
"No, it hasn't."
Alwyn hazarded another step forward. Despite his primary post within the capital city keeping him far away from the isolated corners of the kingdom, Alwyn had experienced his fair share of the anomalous and arcane. For what he lacked in personal encounters, he had prepared for in the secondhand accounts he'd read as part of his training or heard word of mouth in the garrison. What might look harmless enough one moment could be just as likely to transport, transform, or transubstantiate anything - to include himself - if handled haphazardly. He reached a decision.
"Regroup with the others. We'll discuss what we're to do once we're back outside."