The morning dawned clear and bright in the castle atop the mountain on the second day after the great esbath of Beltane and the third day of the Great Move. The Lych Mistress was anxious to complete the last foray to her old abode for the remainder of her possessions. It was not to be, however, until the fifth hour past noon.
The Lych Mistress, you see, was not yet as wealthy as she would have liked to be for she and her noble knight Gerald Paul were still working on the formula for converting lead into gold. And so she was forced to hire herself out as an intellectual mercenary to a gang of lowly moneychangers. Evil tongues dared to refer to the Mistress as the Data Whore, but clearly they were not allowed to live much longer past coining the term.
At the appointed hour, the Lych Mistress completed her business transactions and summoned the great and valiant knight Gerald Paul to make ready for their journey. As they were leaving their mountain dwelling, Sir Gerald Paul was much preoccupied with his dealings with the lightning-fast communications merchants, for they did not arrive as agreed upon to establish a portal for the noble knight's interactions with the outside world. And so, Sir Gerald Paul was greatly displeased. The Lych Mistress attempted to console him by offering to slaughter the communications merchants, which he declined, reasoning that in that case he would have to hire an entirely different crew.
Alas! Due to the noble knight's preoccupation with the communications portal, his mind drifted away from other matters. And so, when the Lych Mistress asked him whether he had with him the key to the dungeon where the remainder of their possessions had been stored, he realized that he did not. Fortunately, they were but ten miles on their way, and the Lych Mistress have not yet set her equipage to star-speed. And while she contemplated briefly a torture session for the valiant knight Gerald Paul, she decided to postpone it to more leisurely times and turned her vehicle around.
After retrieving the key, the Mistress drove on as she would have at the hellhound races, attempting to make up for the time lost due to Sir Gerald Paul's memory lapse. They arrived as the sun was setting and were greeted by the new dweller of their former foothills abode. He was riding the orange grass mowing vehicle that used to belong to the Lych Mistress herself, and which she sold to him for there would be no need to mow grass atop the mountain. And while the Mistress realized the lack of necessity for the mowing contraption at her mountain-top dwelling, she gazed upon it longingly, for she was rather fond of the feel of that padded seat under her equally well-padded bottom and the curve of the steering wheel in her small yet powerful hands.
The sun was setting and there was no time to lose, for the blood-sucking demons of the night would be emerging shortly for their hunt. And so they unlocked the dungeon and gazed with some consternation and dismay at the pile of their possessions, for yet again, it appeared to be greater than what their vehicle would allow them to transport.
"Hellfire and demon excrement!" cried the Lych Mistress, "Do our possessions multiply overnight, each time we leave a fraction of them behind?! Would that my gold coin count do the same!"
The brave Sir Gerald Paul approached the daunting collection of treasures with what courage he could summon and began to disassemble what could be disassembled and collapse what could be collapsed in order to fit as much matter into as little space as possible without having to cast an exhausting and energy-inefficient spell to create a portal into another dimension for the remainder of their things.
The Lych Mistress surveyed the result of his toils with a mix of admiration and despair.
"Brave knight!" quoth she, "You have accomplished the impossible and stowed all of our remaining possessions inside or atop my equipage, for which I commend you, despite the fact that my left shoulder was nearly ripped out of its socket upon helping you elevate your carpentry bench onto the roof fixture of my vehicle. I confess, I was sorely tempted at that moment to heave the wretched thing upon your head and split your skull in half - a temptation that was most difficult to suppress. I am most glad I did, for I could not have accomplished this impressive packing job without your guidance and wisdom."
"I thank thee for showing me mercy at what must have been a difficult and rather painful moment, oh Mistress, and for recognizing my modest space and matter manipulation skills that are meager indeed compared to your own wisdom."
"Aye, noble knight, you are as deft at cargo distribution as you are at the fine art of celebrating your Mistress's many virtues. Alas, the same sight that fills me with pride for your abilities at stacking large trunks and small vessels, is that which fills me with dread for our return journey. I am mighty, yet small in stature, you see. And thus, I shall not be able to see the view behind the vehicle, as shown to me by the magical reflector. Our treasures and war loot are stacked much too high."
The brave Sir Gerald Paul had pondered the matter as swiftly as he could, for the night was descending upon them and they had to make haste.
"Mistress," said he, "while you handle your landau as deftly as you do your sword, and while you drive it as swiftly as an angel would flee at the sight of a witch's sabbath (the sight that is so dear to your heart), I fear the only solution to our conundrum is for me to take the wheel."
"I must agree with you, Sir Knight, although I do not do it often and do not intend to make a habit out of it. I must place my fate and that of our prized possessions and that of my precious vehicle into your hands."
The wise and valiant knight Gerald Paul had spent some additional time securing the objects he mounted onto the roof fixture with strong twine and as many as eight of his toughest most complex knots to hold everything in place. As it was well past sundown, he urged the Lych Mistress to remain in the safety of her vehicle, for the night-time blood-sucking demons were out in force, and had shown no inconsiderable interest in the Mistress's tender flesh and sweet lifeblood.
After tying the eighth knot, Sir Gerald Paul had realized he could do no more. And so, he took the primary seat of the Mistress's vehicle, saying, "I am honored, oh Mistress, that you would trust me with your life, your equipage and our possessions. I vow to keep my hands firmly on the wheel and my eyes as firmly on the road, despite the inducement to do otherwise in your form."
"Sir knight, I have trusted you to prepare my food and share wine with me in the past, despite an occasional urge to poison me I know you must have, for I am temperamental and prone to enjoyment of torture and bloodshed. Let us on with our journey so we may reach our mountain keep and sooth our troubled minds with the sound of the rushing waters, and wash away the grime of the road in the crystal spring."
And so they rode bravely off into the night. There were many challenges yet to overcome from properly distributing their possessions to making their dwelling fit for the Lych Mistress and her valiant knight to dealings with moneychangers. But that is an epic for another day.