- “If it isn’t Trevor the Blackbeard himself! The best-known warrior of the northern lands! Welcome to Plamont! I’m glad that you agreed to meet me.

A tiny, plump gentleman quickly straightened his white curls and ran up to Trevor to shake his hand.

-“My name is Ezor von Vickroft. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Trevor” - he said with a friendly smile on his face.

-«Likewise” – Trevor answered drily, without any intent to smile back.

They shook hands and sat down at the table. The Baron continued to speak:

- “For how long have you been in town, sir Trevor? You’re probably tired after a long journey. Please help yourself. Here are the best dishes that can be found in our famous seaport town - spicy Gravlax, sea wolf tartare, and king prawns, complemented by a selection of Plamont’s finest wines.

Trevor frowned while looking at the table. "I will not refuse a glass of strong beer and a piece of fried meat."

- “You heard him, boy! Everything has to be served in no time!” the baron shouted back at the servant, who immediately rushed away.

Meanwhile, Trevor had a look through the interior of Meliada’s Chambers. The fireplace shed light on a heraldic shield that hung on the wall. A true masterpiece, certainly custom-made by the Plamont’s best blacksmiths. The shield depicted a graceful winged lion – von Vickroft’s family crest. Numerous paintings hung all around the room. They showed all sorts of scenery, from dense forests full of life to solemn snow-capped ridges of the northern mountains, which Trevor has missed so much… Vases with bizarre flowers that Trevor has never seen before stood on the luxurious bloodwood furniture.

- “Impressive.” he thought. “Could be better without the wicked odor of this bloody fish”

- "I would like to smoke a pipe. Do you mind, Baron?"

- "Of course, sir Trevor. Just open the window that is right behind you, please."

He opened the window and lit the pipe. "Can we discuss the matter now, Baron?"

- “Sir Trevor, I'm afraid we'll have to wait a little bit. You see, one more guest will join us in a minute. Your partner. When we all meet, I’ll clarify the details of your task "

- “What other partner? I work alone. I don't need a traitor to stab me in the back and take all the trophies for himself. We didn't agree that way. "

- “Sir Trevor, please don’t worry. This person is trustworthy. Moreover, the task is too dangerous, since ancient magic is involved in it… and she is an expert in this area. "

-"She?" Trevor asked in surprise.

That very moment the door to Meliada's Chambers opened, and a tall, fair lady, dressed in a tight brown tunic, entered the room. She smoothed her long blond hair and walked slowly towards the baron. Hard-hearted Trevor smiled subtly as soon as he saw the girl - "Hmm, that is interesting…" - he thought.

- “Irena, I’m so glad to see you, dear!” the baron exclaimed, before hugging the girl.

-"Likewise, Ezor" she answered in a thin, feminine voice.

- “Please, meet your partner. This is sir Trevor. She slowly walked over to him and held out her hand to him. "Nice to meet you, sir Trevor, my name is Irena." Trevor exhaled a puff of smoke, got up slowly, shook her hand, and answered shortly - "My pleasure."

- “You’re probably a foreigner, sir Trevor? You see, in the lands of Oskhen, a man is obliged to gently kiss a lady's hand when they meet, not squeeze it until it's swollen.

- “I’ve never really understood this tradition. By kissing the woman's hand, Oskhen men allegedly express their admiration and emphasize their inferiority to a woman. Where I come from, men and women are equal. Not only do we share a bed, but we sail under one flag, fight on the same battlefield, and even rule clans together. Our woman can punch a man in the face, or even stab him with a knife if he suddenly decides to touch her inappropriately, and then she will return to the tavern and continue to drink mead as if nothing had happened. If I dropped a hand kiss to one of our glorious shield maidens, that would seem weird. They would probably think that I was some kind of tender Akran bard, but not a son of black wolves.

Irena sighed heavily. -“You Northerners are exceptional. All you do is drink your homebrew and fight, whilst striving to die on the battlefield. Art, poetry, and what is more - gallantry, is not your forte. "

She glanced at Trevor and smiled softly - "Although northern men are rather handsome."

Trevor raised his eyebrows and smiled back at Irena ...

- "Ladies and gentlemen!" the baron exclaimed. - "Please, let's get down to business."

While Irena poured herself a glass of wine, Trevor exhaled another puff of smoke and shortly said -

-"Speak up, Baron."

Ezor fetched a long sight and began telling his story –

-“It happened a few years ago ... My grandfather, Ozerd von Vickroft, a respected scientist and philosopher, lived in a small castle on the summit of Mount Skon, west of Plamont. His wife died, and their children grew up a long time ago and went to live all over Oskhen. Ozerd led a quiet and calm life with only a few servants by his side. He devoted all his time to studying ancient manuscripts, which he collected throughout his lifetime. After the death of his wife, he began to avoid people. He never left his castle, and most of the locals forgot about him, but not all. The elders of the surrounding villages knew Ozerd well and sympathized him deeply, while the youngsters spread vile rumors about him. “Insane old man! He practices black magic! " they said ... But he didn't care. All that he cared about was the ancient manuscripts, and their wisdom lost in time. So he lived until one terrible day everything changed...

The baron stared into the vacancy, sipped more wine, and continued his story –

-“The whole village heard the bitter cries of the children. They came running from the forest, flooded in tears and scared to death. None of them could speak. Only a few hours later, one girl was able to tell what they saw. The village chief summoned the men and ordered them to take up arms, and told the women and children to close their doors and stay inside no matter what. They headed for the trail that led to the top of the mountain. A monstrous sight awaited them there. In the middle of the trail, they saw the bodies of Ozerd and his two cooks impaled on stakes. They were so disfigured that it was not possible to identify them at first sight. Gutted entrails, shattered bones, and torn limbs floated in a crimson pool of blood under the stakes. But that's not all ... The forest around the trail has died. The trees were completely rotten and the grass turned into vile black mud. There was an unbearable stench in the air. From this dreadful scenery and the devilish stench, some men became ill and fainted. When they came to their senses, the chief ordered some of the men to take the corpses to the village and bury them with all the honors. The rest, together with the chief himself, went to the castle to punish those who committed this unimaginable atrocity. They didn’t come back ... Nobody came back.

After this ghastly crime, villagers asked for help, but no one answered their call. They even tried to ask for help from Prince Valvius himself, but he was busy with court intrigues and the upcoming war with Estrain, so he was not interested in the problems of some hamel to the west of Plamont. Some left the village in despair, while those who stayed tried to save it. People gave their last pennies to soldiers of fortune and wandering sorcerers, but everyone who crossed the path never came back. "

-“Today this place is veiled in mystery. Some say that that night they saw some creatures, similar to people, not alive, nor dead, who, like shadows, lurked towards the Ozerd’s castle. Others speak of a hideous demon, a spawn of chaos and darkness, under whose hooves the soil began to rot instantly. Some people think that by studying the ancient manuscripts, Ozerd awakened an ancient evil, a certain entity or spirit that punished him, destroyed all life within the outskirts, and occupied the castle. They say that if you walk near the path, you can hear the mournful death moans of all those who have never returned from the castle. The horrendous chorus of the dead…

-“A tall tale! I haven't heard such stories since I was six! " said Trevor with a slight smile on his face.

Baron Ezor was indignant - "Is this funny to you, sir Trevor?"

-“Dear Baron ... My people tell such stories to children from an early age. So I am very familiar with dark magic and ancient evil. Moreover, I’ve personally met the blood-sucking scums, cloven-hoofed and other beasts. So your story isn’t that amusing. "

Trevor finished his beer, slammed the wooden mug on the table, turned to the servant, and said loudly - "Come on, pour me another beer, son." While the servant was refilling Trevor's mug, he continued to speak -

"Would you like me to tell you one of these"scary stories "? One day, a forest troll quietly made its way to the Firehammer clan's dwelling sight and drank all their homebrew. They found him in the tent drunk as a skunk. Absolutely shit-faced! So guess what they did to him! You’ll never believe it! They...

-"Sir Trevor! Please show some respect and save your stories for later. We have an important matter to discuss. ”Irena said sharply.

-"Baron Ezor, it is obvious that the castle is cursed, and I assume you want us to lift the curse, correct?"

-“Exactly, Irena! The events of that day are still a bane to my family. Oskhen nobles believe that the Vickroft family has been defiled. Our women can’t find worthy husbands, and it is difficult for me and my brothers to expand our barony. This terrible sealing mark must be banished from my family ... But most of all I want to avenge my beloved grandfather Ozerd. With his death, a part of me died as well ... I do not want innocent people to suffer the same fate as my beloved grandfather.

-“That is why I hired you. The son of a black wolf, born in the deep darkness and shivering cold of Ardal, a warrior whose courage knows no bounds, and the most talented sorceress of the Frando Collegium, the best student of Archmage Cornelius Sentaro himself. You are better suited for this task than anyone else. Together you can free the unfortunate villagers from fear and suffering, and avenge Ozerd’s death. "

-“Baron Ezor, is there any additional information about this place? Before we depart to the cursed castle, we must be aware of even the slightest details. They might help us understand what kind of magic we have to face. Rotten earth and miasma are an indication of scourge sorcery, but if there is a crimson dead-wood with annelids or leeches around the path, this indicates that scourge sorcery was fused with blood magic, which makes the task almost impossible. Did I make myself clear? Please tell us absolutely everything that you know. "

-“Unfortunately, Irena, I told everything. When you arrive at Ulekh village, talk to the locals. I'm sure they'll tell you everything. Sir Trevor, Mrs. Irena, I understand that the danger is great. However, if you succeed, you will receive a great reward. I will pay each of you 5,000 oskhs after you lift the curse. If you depart to Ulekh at dawn, you will arrive there in the evening. I understand that you need time to look around, talk to the peasants, and prepare for what awaits you at the mountain’s summit, so I will be arriving in the village a few days later. I hope to see you safe and sound. After you prove that the curse has been lifted, you will immediately receive your reward.

The baron finished his wine in one gulp, put down the glass, and asked - "Do you agree ladies and gentlemen?"

Trevor smiled - “Black magic ... Certain death ... And a fortune as a reward. Oi there, little one! Spill four flasks of beer for me and handsome sorceresses! We're leaving now! "

Irena rolled her gas and sighed heavily - “Don't worry, Baron Ezor. We will do everything we can to lift the curse and restore the honor of the Vickrosft family. See you at Mount Skon.