COMPLETE! The Wasteland. A woman screams in the night. Spotlights flash on a pile of dust in the desolate patch of land that lay just beyond the tall crosses that picket the boundary of Encampment R-34. A group of curious students leave their bunkho...
To Matthias Corvinus, the worshipful King of Hungary, be this letter taken.
In dire need of rest. Pardon my careless script. Have made our way back to the trail, and not a moment too soon. I fear'd we were being led in circles by the gypsy folk who presently escort us to the mountain. We were by these means the best secured, as the gypsies knew we were being hunt'd. The shelter of the rocks now protects us. What follows is my best account.
The wild animals from Giurgiu were bent on a warm kill. The first night, your astrologer was dragged away in his sleep. One of the Black Army managed to shoot him in the chest as he left the light of our fire, granting him a merciful death, but leaving us without navigation. Upon the next night, the beasts chose the horses. There were enough remaining for the journey, but it had been judged necessary by the gypsies to release the horses and go on foot to where the craggy mountain pass is narrow, and thus a stronghold. We have since slaughter'd half the pack of wild dogs. I have observed your men in action. They are deft warriors, indeed. Though my stomach is empty, I could not partake in the flesh of these beings. I am a very temperate and regular man, and the sight of someone consuming what had once been a living creature is, to me, abhorrent. The men devour'd the dogs in satisfaction of their own survival. In my heart there was a deficiency of zeal, for I witness'd the scene in its truest state. These hungry men were, without hesitation, very surely ingesting an abundance of our slain traveling companion.
The exhaustion of a week without sleep is making me delirious. I see strings of smoke stretching up to the heavens. I am feeling such absolute disinterest'dness in the whereabouts of Vlad III. My hope lies in Styria, and the warmth of my bed in the tower of Castle Klatka. Be not dismay'd, King, for I will carry out my charge. We are taking up rest along the base of yet another steep rise. Am dispatching my rider north in search of the Prince and his camp. Praying we have word by morning.
Am sending this missive by way of your emissary.
Writ in haste on the seventh of February, Fourteen Hundred and Sixty-Two
Ezzelin von Klatka
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