It felt like Ymdaton was receiving a holiday gift. For some reason the package from the old man was delivered in the night, while he slept. Early in the morning he stumbled upon the massive sack lying at the doors of his room. Crewslayer dragged it in, noticing that it was quite heavy. He untied the rope at the neck of the sack and looked inside, his eyes widening in surprise.

Half an hour later Abimnupal knocked on Ymdaton’s door and instantly walked in without waiting for a permission. He stopped at the threshold, dumbstruck.

“What?” asked Crewslayer, his voice distorted by the helmet, he glanced at his equipment and shrugged, “Fine disguise, isn’t it?”

“Well,” smiled his comrade, “It falls apart the moment you speak in your perfect kinani.”

Indeed, Ymdaton was clad in full dreavlyani armour: long hauberk, extended legguards, massive armguards and pauldrons, a helm with an aventail which obscured his face completely. He was still armed with an axe, yet of local design. His shield was also bigger, like those worn by militia.

“I see that you are prepared for your mission already,” said Abimnupal, “I want you to visit a certain place alongside me, before you leave.”

“Allow me to pack up my belongings,” said Ymdaton and began doing as he said, clanging loudly with his armour.

Before the hour ended, their were walking on the empty streets of Khladnetz. It was still too early, the stars were still sean in the greyish sky.

“What kind of place is this?” asked Crewslayer.

“The one that will help you in your task,” answered Abimnupal with a mysterious expression.

They reached a huge empty area at the crossing of roads. In the middle of it a conical tent ten steps wide stood, it’s pinnacle tilted slightly to the side. Abimnupal entered the tent, Ymdaton followed him. It was mostly empty inside. The only two noticeable things were a massive table and a weird construction of interlocked wheels from which ropes were reaching to every supporting beam of the tent.

They were met by an old man, who was wearing a layer upon layer of warm clothes and still shaking from cold.

“Greeting, children under the stars,” said he, “What do you seek in the hall of worship?”

“My friend departs today, to take on the quest of arms,” answered Abimnupal, “He requires a blessing.”

Ymdaton looked at his friend, than at the man.

“Wait,” said he, “I know you. You were the priest of Ytenisar at Isary. You were making prayers for Abeneewy.”

“It was so, indeed,” agreed the old one, “But here in the far away land I am the only priest left, so I honour every star. Blessing of whom do you require?”

“I require none,” retorted Crewslayer, “My whole life I was managing without prayers just well. I do not mess with the stars, they do not mess with me.”

“Hush,” grabbed his shoulder Abimnupal, “It won’t hurt. In fact, think of all your past exploits in the forest. You are dealing with spirits at every step, it will be easier to do so with guidance from above.”

“Fine,” sighed Ymdaton, “But whom? Mahandahy, so I may destroy my enemies utterly?”

“No, I do not think you are lacking in this department,” grinned his comrade, “O priest, give my friend the blessing of Ulh.”

“I understand,” nodded the old man and approached the wheels. He turned one of them and the whole mechanism came to life. It turned, swaying the tent to the side. Now Ymdaton noticed that its covering was not full. There was a hole at the top, through which stars could be seen. The priest stopped, when the star named Ulh appeared in it.

“O Ulh,” began he, half singing, half speaking, “You, who guide through changing currents, you who show the blade’s path in the turmoil of battle, you who administer the cast of dice, you who lead aside misfortune and who bring closer luck, be graceful and bless your son…”

“Ymdaton.”

“Bless your son Ymdaton in whatever undertaking he may choose. Bring him the best opportunities and rid him of the worst accidents. Do it so, for the blood is not to be forgotten.”

“Do it so, for the blood is not to be forgotten,” uttered Ymdaton and Abimnupal in a unison.

“You know, you worry too much about me,” said Crewslayer when they left the tent.

“You are my friend,” told Abimnupal and hit Ymdaton on the shoulder, “Fair wind.”

“Fair wind,” nodded Crewslayer.