A day passed, then two, and finally three, and no signs of pursuit came from behind the intrepid band. The rolling fields of rice that surrounded the city gave way to pine forested hills that undulated as if a dragon of the earth lay sleeping beneath them.<br/><br/>On the fourth day, the weather turned poor, the drizzle of morning falling steadily, and in with increasing pace til every last body was soaked and frozen. Fengs cough rasped from behind a clenched fist, and any eye could note how the two women rode close by him, shielding him from the gusting wind with their own bodies. The only other traveller encountered was a single peddler, his pack piled high with bundles, boxes, pouches and bags, hurrying in the opposite direction. Your attempts at conversation were rebuffed with and admonishion to hurry on from this stretch of road. "It's a bad luck place." said the peddler. "Everyone knows it's haunted, and I mean to be well clear of it before dark."<br/><br/>That was an hour ago and several li distant. As night threatens to fall, the dark clouds overheard promise rain and worse. The prospect of cold, wet night does not inspire anyone, when a small, flickering light is seen in the distance. As you draw closer it resolves itself into what appears to be an inn. Not perhaps the largest or more elegant you have ever seen, but on a night like this, a veritable palace.