everything, because this scribe probably had to be so under pressure that the letters resulted in a completely different word, but Gisildur you could see that he could read it anyway. He briefly improved the scribble words to legible writing, passed the note around and everyone knew what to look out for and what to fear. The creepy creature in the corner was probably a creature from hell and it was just reaching for a canteen with black, spider-skinny fingers, bit the opening with faded, somewhat rotten teeth and greedily drank a few gulps from it. A low, incomprehensible murmur accompanied his subsequent burp and his figure was framed by a black rag, which obviously served as a cape or head covering and covered his face except for one of the two red-hot eye sparks, the second one could only guess and some of the companions swallowed worryingly .Isribus would soon arrive here and her round would have been exposed, because it would be noticed if six people came around a table and shared some battle plans, so the meeting point had to be changed. The brave Gisildur glanced at a mirror set deep into the wall, the wood paneling of which was glued, the two of the Order of the Dragon nodded, said goodbye and hurriedly left the small but spacious room. The shadow creature was just about to jump up, it had already leaned on its two charred arms when it thought better of it and let itself fall back onto the bench hidden in the shadow. It was quite dark where it was sitting, a sulphurous smell floated over to them, it was mysterious and far away from the other people, so that no one would really notice what was happening with him, but Badenius was lucky to have been blessed with eagle eyes and immediately dropped everything without batting an eyelid.Before Gisildur really got started with his project, Warior just watched in amazement the whole time, he waved the thin, emaciated landlord over to him. He leaned down on his arm with a tray with a cloth under it and the warrior whispered imploringly and with a brief, questioning allusion in his ear:


“Who's that there?” The host of the house reacted very differently than Warior had imagined and only replied coolly and almost pale as a corpse:


"That's death, he's here to get me! So leave him alone, I don't want any fuss in my little bar!" Immediately after this information he disappeared back into the kitchen Gisildur frowned:


"I think he didn't understand my question!" He had to know that his wife and children would be alone if he died, but at the moment he was dealing with a minor problem and he began, with his hand on his temple, bored thinking.A little later he finally said to Warior and Savamir:


"Be ready! The escape is not over yet!" he put in a whisper, "Outside the other two are waiting for Isribus! They'll give us an inconspicuous sign in a few minutes! See?" he asked again with his eyes at Warior, "The mirror up there is actually a window. You can only see in from the kitchen! At this moment the landlord is observing us! Badenius will quickly switch him off and take his place. We are allowed to pay no additional attention to us and we will now flee separately again, as we did from the castle! "


"You mean there is a scout?" Warior asked interested and leaned closer, but at the same time he knew that it was not the right time to show off what he knew.


"Exactly!" he agreed and nodded as if he had not correctly understood Warior's allusion."Come on, Savamir, you first!" After some time had passed and a few more beers had been drunk, they tried not to show any clear fear of the enemy, who had eaten the roast and they had exchanged more meaningful looks the person mentioned suddenly stood up and headed for the door. Now that the majority of the strange boys had disappeared outside, the strange creature also made its way upright and light-footed outside and did not even look at the other, silent knights.


"Damn it!" Gisildur whistled angrily through his teeth and tried to remain as calm as possible so as not to attract attention at the end, "The guy got wind and is now waiting for us in the forest. I hope the others are well hidden!" Warior hadn't said anything because large beads of sweat stood on his forehead, his lower lip trembled slightly childishly and had he spoken, one would have certainly heard his fearful tone.Almost trembling, he got up and creaked as he pushed the simply carved wooden chair aside.


"What you up to?" the older one whispered, horrified, and also seemed rather unsettled. Warior did not answer, left the building through the back kitchen, Gisildur was unable to shout anything to his younger brother and stood still, because he had sat up abandoned at Warior 's to protest. But after thinking about it, he sat down again and suddenly felt more alone than he ever was. The landlord was hunched over in a corner of the room, his apron stained with blood and his skinny legs strangely twisted. So the others were already here, he thought, at least a little reassured, and he literally felt that his body was much too tense to react properly. His hair was completely sticky with sweat and was tight, Warior 's breath came in gorges and fearful he looked away from the terrifying corpse.He put his hand on the ajar door and heard a low but urgent squeak, inside his fear exploded and he closed his pale eyes, breathing deeply. For the moment of darkness he gathered strength to open the back door without hearing a loud noise again. He suddenly realized that he had just heard something scratch in the sand and carefully opened his eyelids to look through the crack in the door. What he saw were only slightly touched by the wind, leaves and ferns damp from the night dew, and again his poor heart began to beat faster. Everything around him became quiet, only the heart muscle pumped what he could give and the throbbing inside got louder and louder, so that he could no longer concentrate on the outside. As if in a blind trauma, he pushed the door open with his shoulder and stumbled, almost fell, into the cool grass of the embankment. It was much colder than inside, dangerous shadows lurked from everywhere and his heart skipped for what seemed an endless minute to him.When he could no longer stand on his feet, he just let go, relaxed his muscles without a will and slumped into the grass without making an unnecessary or even loud noise. A fog of unconsciousness spread inside him and paralyzed his thoughts, the window to the outside world was closed without emphasis.




How long has he been lying here in the wet grass? He didn't know anymore, stayed a few seconds until the realization shot through his head like an arrow, he had slumped behind the farmer's kitchen and had no idea what had happened next. What had Gisildur said earlier? In the forest always towards the east, he remembered that, he straightened up very carefully and still swaying a bit and a slight shiver shook him to the bone. While he was trying to regain his composure, he saw a shadowy movement in the wobbling bushes in front of him. He had just looked elsewhere, but from the corner of his eye the movement seemed slow and far reaching. There!He just thought he had seen a red glow between the estuary of an oak and switched abruptly. At first he just stumbled away, but then he shook his head and dug into the ground holding his toes with every step so as not to fall over again. A fuzzy growl came from the bushes behind him and this time he was driven by sheer panic. He rushed blindly towards the trunks, sat over a stump and crawled hastily under a half-rotten, transverse trunk, the broken branches of which protruded from him like rib bones. Branches clapped him in the face like lashes of the whip and he just ran around smaller plants without even paying much attention to them. He breathed hastily and jumped over a small ditch, always believing the enemy was sitting panting and puffing on his neck. Sharp thorns tore at his clothes and finally he tripped over a large root and twisted his body so that he slid to the ground behind a bush.He used the moment to breathe freely, to gather new strength for the further sprint and to keep an eye out for his pursuer. With a quick look up he recognized the circular moon, which, on closer inspection, kept moving a little further. Only now did his wounds start to hurt and he noticed a burning abrasion on his knee, which hadn't even bothered him before. It must have been the adrenaline rush, thought Warior, moaning softly and sucking in the cool night air sharply through his teeth. Carefully he leaned on the tree as he got up and clenched his teeth hard because the wound really hurt. The first few steps he tried to take went wrong, because each time the injury contracted a lot and began to bleed when he pulled his knee up. Would he still be of use to his brothers in this way? At the thought he thought of his magic weapon, got scared that it had disappeared and with a sure gesture he realized that it was still where it belonged.Leaning on a gnarled branch, he began to hobble up a small path, stooped.




Muragecht's armies fought bitterly with the enemy from the west.


Swords crashed into each other, horns rang and hail of arrows whirred at both parties, were hit and either died of the injury or they broke off and fought on, painfully but just as hard. -


They absolutely had to storm the opposing walls and finally they would win the final battle of the evening.


- Turrets with rams and ladders were used to storm the castle, but the gate was too hard to be blown open by the enemy, so they just kept fighting. The people at the battlements drew the bows and shot arrows at the enemy or simply let hot pitch rain down on them. -


The people counted on their emissaries and their magical swords specially made for this move.

- Weeping, the women knelt