<span class="mu-i"> ''Take me to this Cephalas.'' </span> Let him lead you to this warlord; you will decide what to do once you are there. That is the plan; either way, no matter what you do, you will have found the first proper warlord of the region in his more or less hidden mountain fortress. But what his motives are or why he lets his men be so open about his whereabouts is a mystery to you. Anastasios doesn't seem the forgiving type, so maybe. But even then, if the Mithradians can't even project power in these valleys, you suppose that this would be a good hiding place to raise an army, though it probably can't stand up to whatever is garrisoned in Elisonikon, that's for sure.
The riders, for their part, open up more. However, your evasion of the offer for mercenary work means that they weren't that open.
''Most excellent outlander, we shall lead you to our warcamp. Cephalas shall be more than happy to receive you.''
You declined to ride ahead with the horsemen, as you thought that might make you more susceptible to any trap or ambush once there, even though it took longer that way.
And you began climbing again, up the slopes and into the rugged wilderness of the mountains, where you knew the war camp would be located. You weren't really certain what you could expect there; it could be some peasant conscripts levied to fight for a man they have never seen, an elite fighting force, a secret meeting of hardened Prokopian veterans, and like-minded personages. Or even a ragtag rabble of mercenaries, adventurers, and whatever else they could pluck off the streets.
Morning had begun to make way for the midday when you had laid your eyes upon the fort of the Prokopians, as you had begun to call them in your mind. For all the climbing you had done, you would now need to descend again, first into a fir forest and then across a minor creek before taking another steep ascent towards the fort. It is an old design equivalent of the old legionary castrums, rectangular in nature, with a foundation of drab grey stone. It had taken quite the beating over the years; the plaster had mostly given way to the brick skeleton it once had, one wall was largely gone, and a massive breach had taken its place. The towers too were mostly gone, though around some of them was at least some scaffolding, implying that the master of this fort had plans for restoration. There was more to note, of course; some buildings have had their red roof tiles removed in favour of straw, while others have had their singles revived in old glory.
