The entire group gathered near the wagon, and those who were without horses boarded the sturdy vehicle of Anja, or mounted the horses belonging to Ami and other riders. And then they have set off, leaving the dark, blood-soaked abbey behind.
Back to Tunhausen.
The journey back to the Tunhausen Castle took two days. Mannan spent several hours at nearby outpost, directing the soldiers and describing what will be found in Blackmoore. Then, the road to Tunhausen was clear and safe, local militia provided escort on the way there.
Mannan hosted a small meal with all of the mercenaries and other guests that came along to Tunhausen, and everyone went to sleep in rather merry mood, expect those who were troubled by problems personal or trivial.
Next morning, a disaster struck.
The first people to notice how horrible the weather became, were Mannan's soldiers. They've made quite a ruckus because the magnitude of the problem was, like every year, very severe.
Powerful blizzard brought layers upon layers of snow, and the sky was continuously dark with the clouds, the high winds making the life of flying creatures and their riders terrible. Tunhausen Keep and the village underneath was cut off the world, pretty much like any other village and fort in local neighbourhood, or maybe further north.
Then, even worse news came - Menelea made a surprising move and attacked Berebia, using the snowy paralysis cast over the country to the advantage of the army. Whilst the borders were now nigh-impassable for normal travelers, the Meneleans haven't got far, the snow and natural sturdiness of the Berebians didn't allow their southern enemies to gain more than ten kilometers of soil.
Nine days have passed.
And for the first time in a while, the blizzard lessened it's anger. It was no longer blizzard - it was merely snowing.
~~Intermission B: The White Towers of Tunhausen~~
Mannan looked at the snowy morning, eyeing the bleakly lit horizon to the east - somewhere there, the sun was rising over the clouds. Lord Tunhausen took a sip of the drink from his silver mug, and let out a loud sigh, before footsteps directed his attention to his left.
"Gregor, on feet already, I see?" He spoke with a smile, and took a sip of his drink again.
"I haven't asked you how you like our Berebian weather this time of year. Cozy enough?" Mannan tried to smile, but it turned into some terrible hybrid between a frown and a smirk.