Distance is no real object to the Acolyte, so long as the given target is resolvable within his (good, but not impossibly so) eyesight, so he'll cut them all down, though if they want him to carve finely detailed shapes into them he'll have give each cut some real focus. He does not have a solution for mass destruction though, not unless the caravan happens across another Vargov horde anyway. Hopefully the various caravaners are suitably impressed by the time they all stop to make camp and the time comes for him to speak with the caravan's leader.

They don't ask him to do anything which can't be done with the best of their guns (After some argument, it is agreed that the finest guns are made in Nuln, half a continent to the south of here, but the finest powder is made by the House of Secrets in Cathay, most of a world away). Naturally, then, he can succeed at every test they put him to, with flying colours. 

Eventually they make camp, with a good bit of daylight still left. The carts are circled around, and pickets put up between them, creating a rough fort that will keep off anything that bumps in the night for long enough for people to get their guns. People will be sleeping with loaded guns anyway. Cooks get out large woks and set to cooking - here, they're making the same camp stew of rehydrated vegetables and hastily hunted game that travellers everywhere come to tolerate as a hot and filling alternative to walking on an empty stomach. At least here, it's well-spiced, with each wok getting a brick of tallow or lard stained red with chillies and studded with spices added for flavour. The leader of the caravan makes a show of eating the same food as his men, spoiled only a little by the obvious wealth of those sitting at his campfire, and the high quality of cushions on which he sits. 

Over the meal, he talks, through an interpreter if needs be, with the Acolyte. He asks the Acolyte about his homeland, his powers, and his interests. Occasionally he will say something to his astrologer, sitting nervously by his side, to confirm details about the local magic, and answer questions the Acolyte has about it. 

Given the fare that the Acolyte made due with on his long hike to the road, the spiced soup might as well divine nectar. If they couldn't already, other caravaners can definitely tell he's been roughing it for a while now. He'll try to not eat with too much gusto, at least while he's talking with the caravan leader.

He'll explain what he can about his homeland, its varied geographies, the numberless ruins of times long forgotten, the many traditions of magic and the Knowledges at their pinacle, his quest for knowledge and the powers of Fire it has earned him, and his general interest in the gathering and propagation of knowledge. He will also gladly learn all he can of the local (and not-so-local, given the distance to Cathay) magics, and presuming the astrologer has the time and stamina for it, the Acolyte presumably greatly grows and firms up his understanding of the winds of magic.

Well, the astrologer has a theory that actually the Sigmarite Astrological tradition (while obviously inferior to the Cathayan one) operates on basically the same underlying principles laid out by the nature of the stars and the wind of the heavens, he's hoping to try and buy books on the subject in Erengrad with which to write a paper when he returns home, though the generally secretive nature of wizards and Sigmarite wizards in particular (He's not even allowed into the Sigmarite Empire itself without being executed for illegal magic) is expected to be an impairment.

Oh, illegal magic sounds like it would probably apply to the Acolyte as well, so he'll have to consider that if he's ever near these Sigmarites.Still, fascinating. The Acolyte wasn't even a little bit an astrologer back home, like many knowledge-seekers he's still had a small handful of encounters with entirely accidental celestial visitations, all of which were infuriatingly cryptic even by a knowledge-seeker's standards. He hasn't had any here yet, though, so he's interested in what ways the stars make their thoughts and opinions known here? He can only assume it's related to the aforementioned wind of the heavens.

Illegal magic applies to all non-divine magic cast by someone who hasn't sworn eternal fealty to one of a handful of institutions with specific charters permitting magic! It's very annoying! The stars themselves are not very opinionated, though there are several major gods whose coming was associated with specific astrological phenomena. (He coughs, as though slightly embarrassed, at that). He supposed you could describe Morrslieb (the second of this world's two moons, given to glowing green and looking very evil) as opinionated, though what it mostly does is appear at random and drive people to madness or mutation. It's not wise, for an astrologer to consider it's behaviour in greater detail, he says. 

That said, the Acolyte is correct that the wind of the heavens mediates astrology in many respects - it's theorised that some of the phenomenon they study are directly caused by it, while others are mediated in appearance by it, and the cognitive process of astrology is best done with insights gained by the use of spells that wield the wind to augment mundane calculations and observations. He's not actually what you could consider an ideal astrologer - he leans a bit too heavily on the wind (which he isn't even particularly adept with) to do divinations quickly for the caravan, rather than the masters back home who spent their lives studying the stars to guide Cathay forwards. And of course, the wind of the heavens has many other uses besides those, being also the wind that relates to intellect, wind, cold, and lightning - he has peers who have barely studied the stars at all, preferring instead to practice casting lightning and blasts of icy wind. 

He hasn't heard of the stars sending entities to contact individuals, and if he did, he'd worry that was a demonic plot of some sort. He's heard tell that the Old Ones came from the stars, though.

That definitely sounds annoying! The Acolyte is glad that his guiding force whisked him off to here rather than there.

The Acolyte doesn't think there's anything wrong with tempering pure intellect with practical aids, especially since the astrologer is out here on the road with all the distractions and complications of the world. He also finds the other powers of the wind of the heavens interesting. Some of the acolytes of Lightning he knew wielded similar abilities. And while the stars back home were certainly frustrating, he wouldn't go so far as to say they were demonic, or at least they didn't match up with the descriptions of Chaos that he's received so far. He will definitely be on the watch for Morrslieb, or, avoiding the watch he supposes.

As always, spreading the knowledge is always on the Acolyte's mind, and the astrologer here seems like a kindred intellect, so he'll make sure to offer lessons in the knowledge of Flames within earshot. It'll be a challenge to try and bend his command of the language towards this purpose.

The astrologer demurs, saying that he can't afford to split his attentions or his practice of magic like that - he's also tolerably comfortable with his capacity to defend himself with the wind of heavens, should the matter come up, and the knowledge of flames seems to be mainly good for that, until you are a true master. The more esoteric uses sound like the sort of thing the alchemists back home would kill for, though to be fair the alchemists back home are not the most stable bunch at the best of times, and would kill for many things. 

Several other people from around camp are interested in learning, though, including the interpreter - More self-defence capacity is always a good thing. Nobody believes the Acolyte's claims that it's safer than the local magic, there are just people who would be happy with the risk budget of an order-aligned magic tradition who happen to have no magical talent whatsoever. 

He won't try and prove anything here and now. Once they manage to pick things up they'll have all the proof they could ask for.

Caravaners are probably a bit more mentally mighty than Klomm to begin with, but this teaching session is much less fervent and the Acolyte is dividing his attention to between many students. It would be stunning if any of them found their insight tonight before everyone goes to bed, but the Acolyte will be happy to continue the lessons every day as they continue their collective trek to Praag, whenever he and the aspiring acolytes have time.

Then travel will proceed! By the time they arrive in Praag, the interpreter, one of the chefs, and two of the guards, have achieved the basic insight - about a third of those who were determined enough to continue studying for the remaining week of travel it takes to arrive in Praag. Once the city is on the horizon (even now, it's ominous, though - high walls that appear even in daylight to be streaked with dried blood, at night screams that can heard even from so many miles away.), all magic practice stops - even the Astrologer packs away all his star charts into a heavily locked box and pretends to be a mundane navigator. 

Well, that certainly is a very cursed city! Assuming this is the result of previous mage's malevolence or mishap, he can hardly blame the locals for having a negative opinion of magic in general. He'll follow suit on the pretending-to-not-be-magic thing, or at least keep his use of knowledge to private times and places.

The citizens of Praag thank you for enabling them to better identify the mad sorcerers, cultists, demons, and vampires in their midst. Or possibly just for making them less visible. The caravan enters through the mountain gate, and travels down the main gate to the merchants district, where a fast rider has been sent ahead to negotiate a place to stay. Some trading will be done here, but for the most part it's just a chance to rest and resupply on the way to Erengrad or Kislev city. 

The Acolyte will gladly take advantage of collective bargaining power when it comes to negotiating for lodgings, but once that's all sorted out and maybe after he can have as close to a good night's sleep as he can get, eat some breakfast, study the tainted skull a bit more and in particular how it has changed with the now greatly denser mien of dhar, do some meditation to mentally prepare himself, and then walk out and find his way to the Fire Spire.

The amount of dhar in the skull might have increase slightly? It's hard to tell. The skull's Dhar fades into the higher background levels - it was never particularly high to start with. 

The Fire Spire is easy to find - not only is it still one of the tallest buildings in the city, even with its upper floors destroyed, it's also on the corner of a major intersection in the merchants quarter where he's staying. 

Someone has put up a stone wall to keep out trespassers (for their own good, given what the Acolyte has heard), but it's not that high - easy to climb with mere determination, let alone the Acolyte's powers. 

Assuming no one tries to stop him (and with more than just a shout), up and over he goes! The Acolyte is in ruin exploration mode, so he's ready to fight, ready to dodge, ready to loot, and ready to run all on a hair trigger.

One person shouts a warning, many others shake their heads sadly, but nobody tries to stop him. Praag is not the sort of place where you stick your neck out for the good of a stranger, and the merchant's quarter even less so, preoccupied with their livings as the locals are. 

The doors of the Fire Spire are hanging loose on their hinges. 

He dashes inside, light on his feet and quickly glancing to and fro, covering all sides.

The entry-hall is empty, but for a few corpses. One even looks like they were on their way out, when they died, though if so, thier hands are now empty of any possible treasure. The ceilings are high, and the walls are well-finished stone. Every room the Acolyte visits has bloodstains, burn marks, and other stranger forms of damage. In one room, the stone of the wall has been twisted into the visage of a screaming face, totally petrified. In other, every surface is stained a multitude of iridescent colours. The air is thick with dhar, strange and disorienting to the senses. 

Determination is the most mysterious of Fire's aspects to the Acolyte, but even so a part of him clings to it like a cloak against a cold breeze. He does not stop to catalogue the horrors he finds, only giving them enough attention to consider what sort of danger might have created them and how to best avoid sharing the victims' fates. He moves with speed and grace, and mercilessly cuts through any obstacles which cannot be moved around quickly.

"You're on the wrong floor, you know? The library is on the next floor up."  

Has he spotted any stairs or other upwards passage? He'll double back for it if he has or else be on the lookout for one, but he doesn't think cutting through the ceiling is warranted yet.

There are several large stairwells placed in logical locations - the Fire Spire is a pretty many-storied building. 

Up he goes! Quick, quick, but careful of traps or ambushes from above, and of pursuers from below.

No ambushes, No pursuers, just more ruins. 

"Yes, yes, this way. The next left."