A Matter of Faith - part II

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You walk down the streets of Threshold a day later, herding some twenty sheep in the light rain, which is little more than a fine mist that hour of the morning.

When you reach the city gate you spot the long line of townsfolk stretching out before the stables. Men and women of all ages patiently waiting despite the drizzle to meet the Patriarch himself. The holy father has chosen to sit not inside the grand stone church, but at a lowly stable, so no poor soul would feel uncomfortable approaching him, or be forced to enter a building dedicated to the worship of a different faith than theirs in order to receive his blessing.

There are whispers in the crowd about how he healed Bogdan the leper with a touch of his band, and poor Vasili had his eyesight restored to his. People are in awe, and all are hopeful that he could help them too

Which is why you, and your sheep, don't get much more than a curious look. People are more focused on the slow progress of the line that a bleating herd of sheep leaving the city, rather than entering it

******

It takes you a full five days to get to the burial mound. The flock of sheeps slows you down, annoyingly wandering to graze the ferns and grass as you walk through the dense forest. It takes all of you to make sure they dont stray too far, and at least a couple of you have to stay awake each night to make sure your herd doesn't race away at the sounds of wolves howling at the moon.

On the sixth day the trees finally thin near the familiar stream, and soon you spot the burial mound, half swallowed by the earth. You smell it before you ever reach it; the familiar rancid stench that is almost unbearable.

The ground near the entrance is littered with scattered bones and skulls sinking into the mud, and the severed head of a boar impaled on a pointy stick at the very mouth of the cave is crawling with hundreds of buzzing flies.

Darius 'volunteers' to stay back and watch over the sheep, while the few brave souls among you step through the narrow entrance. You barely take a few steps forward before you notice dozens of red eyes staring at you through the darkness.

There is some movement between them, before a dry voice hisses at you in broken Traladaran:

"What you want?"