[littlemanpoet]

Furman covered his head with his hood and looked at Eswen. "I can tell you that this storm is coveted by the Master. I do not understand how it may be, but they say that on nights like this, full of storm, he is sure to take a victim. He has been waiting long for such weather, it has been so calm. Pray that his Eodwine is not first on the Master's list this night."

Sleep came fitfully to the party through the long hours until dawn.

The rain did not stop, and the sun's rising was hidden by the heavy downpour. The were slowed by the wet going, but it was well that it rained; for the Master's troops stayed in, not fearing invasion so far from any settlement. All day the rain poured, and slowed them as they wound their way through the hills, avoiding the Master's main road to be safe.

The next rain-soaked night gave them no better rest.

The next morning dawned as dim as the previous day, and passed just as wet and uncomfortably. As the sky began to dim toward twilight, Furman directed them to the top of a hill, over the brow of which could be seen a fortress on the next hill. It was as humble as Furman had told them. There were no trees about, but fields with low brush. It would be impossible to approach with horses unless no one was looking their way.

Furman explained that they must go to the east side of the fortress, where they would find a ditch and a narrow pipe. They would have to crawl up the pipe into the fortress. It would stink. They would not be able to use their weapons until they came out of the pipe. In other words, it would be dangerous, but it was the only way. Unless they wanted to storm the fortress with their small numbers. Once Furman was done explaining, he looked around the group to see if there would be any questions or complaints, now that they saw what would be necessary.