Eremis looked into the flames, absent-mindedly holding the cold meat in his hand, but only seeing what he had experienced just now. And has his deep baritone dispersed the silence, he told them about his dream.
"I dreamed. I dreamed of being in the All Frozen. I 'woke up' by the hands of a stranger. It was cold, terribly cold, and he offered me his bearskin although I couldn't understand his initial words. We were surrounded by spruce trees. A strange circle of them in the midst of Perra's white plains and a storm was all around us. But strangely, in this cluster of Freya's warmth, we found each other. He was a learned man, a skald, as he told me in Common, which is something like a bard with a beard. His name was Ulrik. And he was in search of an artifact that could instantly bring him to places far away. But we had very little time. We had to leave for the next settlement unless we wanted to die in Perra's remorseless winds."
Shortly, Eremis looked up at the priest of Winter to make sure that he hadn't offended him with his layward words.
He seemed to not have been offended, as Eremis noticed relieved.
Finally putting the meat down and starting to poke with a stick into the fire which made it burn even brighter, Eremis continued the story:
"We had only moments before the wolves attacked us. And I don't talk about common forest wolves, I'm talking about mighty creatures of 5 feet height, muscled, fanged and taloned for the predators they are. A whole pack fell upon us. I barely escaped the initial attack and fell to the ground, as Ulrik took his black silvered horn from his chest and played such a deep and terrorizing note that I can still hear it linger in my ears.
All but the most fearless of the pack remained while the rest fled for their lives. I was lucky I had a bard, no, a skald with me that night. I didn't know where I was and I was confused that you were all gone, but had I met the pack alone, I would surely have perished. In my dreams. But it didn't feel like a dream. I felt the hot stinking breath of the female. I felt her 150 pounds of weight as she was lunging on top of me to eat my face off. I felt the cold of the my metal shield protecting me from her fangs. It felt real.
No moment to loose, I threw her off and against a mighty spruce, breaking her leg. Years of combat training even influencing my dreams. I jumped up and defended against another attack. And as my companion fearlessly protected himself from the mighty jaws of the alpha, I just had to help him in his most dire moment. I screamed and threw myself into the air, launching a powerful blow to his skull. I smashed it right in. No, Carrikal smashed it in and dropped the alpha mid-attack, inches before it could rip my companion's throat out. And then it was over. The pack fled and I cut the still warm beast open to cover my body as we travelled to the next 'long house', as they called it.
We stayed the night and the family provided food and shelter. And Ulrik was a great storyteller. He didn't just tell them about the wolves, he made it sound like it was a legendary achievement. he called me 'Wolfmane' and completely exaggerated what I had done. Afterwards, he told a story that made me again question where I was. It was the story of your grandfather, Benedikt, it was the story of Lord Thule who still harrassed the land where we were at the moment. And Ulrik told us that he was looking for the tower and treasure of that Lord Thule, to break the curse and to find the artifact with which to travel through druidic circles. And everyone listened to him as if under a spell."
Likewise, his companions were now listening to him as if they were under a spell. Given they had nothing better to do, it seemed natural now. But it had been so completely different with Ulrik. He really had a way of speaking that was hard to ignore. Taking another sip of water, Eremis had to smile. He suddenly remembered a detail.
"That night, we were drinking mead. And it was a long time that I had not drunk mead. When I was young there was no ale or wine, but mead. Oh, if we had mead here..."
Eremis shook his head excusingly.
"Anyway, later that night, the daughters of that household told us about a friend of their grandfather, an hermit named Isgrim who lived nearby and who was said to have lost his eye sight when he found Thule's castle. We made a deal to bring him food if they told us where he lived. And the next morning we travelled to the north. Towards the snow cropped mountains, the desolate white plains burning in my eyes and threatening to blind me also. We found the cabin leaning against a mountainside, a shabby thing indeed. And the huge northern man welcomed us in as we told him our story. We brought him food and wine and he told us that he had been a great warrior and scout once, his weapons and armor and spoils of war showing of the truth of his words. He was part of the company who allegedly banished the trolls from the lizardfolk's swamps. But then he told us, that he didn't loose his sight due to old age, but due to the undead!"
Eremis let that word linger a moment, before he continued.
"They had a shaman called Rogar with them when they finally found the castle. Black and towering above a ravine. They found the dead bodies of Thule's companions and they found the treasure. And they also found a big tear-shaped artifact made out of obsidian. But as they touched it, the fallen warriors came back to life and the troup's weapons passed through as if it was nothing, while the shades sucked their life out of them. Only Isgrim the Scout was unharmed and could flee."
Eremis slowly takes out his golden medaillon inscribed with the symbol of the sun, the symbol of light and life, the symbol of the lord Solus. It is still glowing from Benedikt's blessing.
"And as the old warrior was relieved to hear that his companions would surely not hate him for fleeing and fell into a slumber, we noticed a big beautiful chest to one wall. No key would unlock it, but the touch of my holy symbol opened the traveling chest formerly probably owned by a priest of Solus. There we found a big black key, a bent obsidian dagger, and a map on thick leather to show us the way to the tower. But then, something strange happened."
Eremis poked again with a stick into the flames and a bit of wood collapsed shooting sparks into the night sky.
"Ulrik had told me before of magical lines that he had seen at the circle of trees. Now he told me that he saw evil and magic in the fire. And as I held Solus' holy symbol into the flames, they actually retreated and something, a black shimmer or so, was gone. Hehl was listening in, he had said. Listening to our every word through the flames. But the power of Solus had made him flee, Ulrik affirmed. I don't know, if that is even possible, but I was happy, I had your symbol, Benedikt. For once, and later for twice in this dream, the gods were real and protected me."
Eremis looked around at his friends. Yes, they were his friends. He had gone through demons and undead with them. What more would it need to become his friend? And how did he repay them? With a lie, several lies. He had to come clean after the story. Once and for all.
"We came upon the tower. It was already the end of dusk and the moon was bright in the sky. I had misread the map and we had lost precious time and only arrived as Hehl's power increased. The tower's top floor was already crumbled by Perra's relentless breath, and the air tasted of death and entropy, an evil that could be felt. Even by me. And as a red glow was slowly starting to increase in the lower floor, we decided to hide and enter the tower when the riders were gone and to burry the corpses in a holy Perra ritual as it befitted a former priest to give him and the land peace."