Such is the life of an adventurer: bothering a priest as he is about to begin a Saturday morning Mass, going to bed without supper in an old woman’s hovel with a promise to fix her roof in the morning, nearly drowning in a river while trying to cross, and then being attacked by bandits in the middle of the night.
How did they get here? Well…
Saturday morning Marx and Tomas decide they need some more information to track down these ghouls to collect the bounty on their hearts. So they wander across the plaza to the cathedral. The door is unlocked, and there are only a few folks scattered around the pews, while a priestly figure does something with the candles up front. Marx marches up to the man and asks what information he might have about abandoned graveyards. The priest turns around and glares, while Marx melts backwards and finds a seat next to the half-orc in the back row. Tomas promptly scoots a few seats away.
After the service, the priest points them in the direction of Landshut, where 50 years ago many villages were destroyed in a war, and warns them to stay on the road, lest they stumble onto a nest of the foul mockeries.
The pair set out for Munich, after briefly considering purchasing horses. (They decide against this due to a lack of funds) Taking lunch at a roadside inn, they arrive outside the walls of Munich just as dark is beginning to come on. A long line of carts and wagons waits to pay the fee to enter the city in preparation for market day tomorrow. The pair decides to skip the fee and skirt the wall, asking one of the carters in the line if there was a river crossing nearby so they wouldn’t have to pay to enter the city. He said there might be one a little ways downstream, though he himself had never taken it.
They head that direction, walking down the bank of the river for nearly an hour before they come upon a close collection of small cottages near a tended grove of trees, just beginning to send out new leaves. They knock at one of the cottages, and the grubby tenant pokes his face out, wondering at the sight of the strange pair of travelers. Asking about lodgings, he asks if they have any food. Not having any, he points them towards Old Hilda’s cottage, the could stay there if they promised to fix her roof in the morning.
Hilda, being not entirely present, asks them repeatedly if they are there to see her granddaughter, Agatha. She’s gone off just now, but she’ll be back soon. Gone into town to get some things, she has, but she’ll be back presently. The two attempt to keep watch through the night, but soon fall asleep. In the morning, they are given a small breakfast by Hilda, who points out the weak places in her roof. The rest of the morning and first part of the afternoon is spent gathering thatch (which is not in great abundance at the moment) and repairing the roof. With the task completed Hilda gives them a light lunch, and they are on their way again, another half an hour downstream to the ford.
They find not much at the widening of the river, 10 feet from either bank is a stout post driven into the ground, a thick coil of rope tied to the post on the far bank. The water is quite swift, swollen with spring snowmelt from the Alps. Tomas ties one end of his own rope to the post on the near bank and begins to wade across. It drops to about waist depth, when he steps in a hole and loses his footing, splashing into the water and being swept downstream. Fortunately, Marx is able to pull him back to the shallows before he loses any of his gear. He tries again, and again is swept off his feet by the current. Marx decides he ought to try, and makes it across without any problem. He ties the two ropes together, and Tomas begins once again to make his way across, using the tightened ropes as a handhold. He slips again, but manages to hold onto the packs and the rope, and finally reaches the far bank.
At this point all of their gear is soaked, so they decide to set up camp and start a fire to dry out their clothes. They still do not have any food, and attempt to pass a restless night in the (still somewhat damp) tent.
While Tomas is on watch, however, he hears some low whispers and the jingle of buckles from the far side of the tent. Giving a shout, he leaps to his feet as a pair of figures run away, carrying a pack that they most certainly did not bring with them. Tomas gives chase while Marx rouses himself, bashing the one carrying the pack a tremendous blow with his spiked club. While one thief is sent reeling, the other dives into the underbrush to hide. Tomas swings his club through the shrubberies, and the hidden bandit again takes to his feet, running as fast as he can. Marx knocks out the first robber while Tomas chases the other, smashing him into the ground as well. The two are tied up and stripped of boots and weapons and left until the morning. Marx falls asleep again after only an hour of watching.
They awake feeling a bit faint at morning’s light, untie the still unconscious bandits, leaving them by the river’s side, and heading up to the road they continue on their way.
Finally they come to a proper roadside inn and have a sizable lunch to sate their rather tremendous appetites. With Landshut about ten hours away and it being about midday, they decide to walk up the road and hopefully find another inn before night falls.
They manage to make it to the Whistling Plowboy in time for dinner, which will bring us up to the morning of Tuesday, May 6.