The sun hung high in the sky as the four trudged through the rough forest. After some debate in the morning, Veryyn and Perthran had come to an agreement about the best route to try and access the sprawling dwarven complex that wove through the Dragonsback mountains. The next nearest access point was directly west of Veryyn’s burrow, and that meant blazing trails through rough terrain and high mountain. It would have been far quicker to cross the beaten path towards the Uite encampment and cut southwest along the foothills, but they had thought better of marching into the forces from Nearborne. Barron had remained withdrawn from the two strangers. He was not one to make quick friends
Allowing the foreigners to lead the way, Veryyn followed close behind. Perthran carved a path with a long, wide but thin blade that seemed to be built for the purpose. It was much too light to see combat and was likely to bend or break if it were ever to strike plate mail. Kotia moved in a different fashion, and was similar to the old tree folk. She stepped lightly and left little sign of her movements. Barron seemed to approve of the wide swath being carved by Perthran. It made an easy trail for the beast. “If we can pass the summit of that near peak today, we will have warmer and sheltered conditions for the night. We must make haste.” Perthran said, more to himself than anyone else. His large frame toiled through the underbrush, and it was clear to Veryyn why the Nearborners and their kin preferred their heavy cotton clothes. Perthran’s robes offered little protection from the brush as he trudged away.
The sun made its westerly crawl as they trekked higher into the mountains. A cool summer wind was blowing, which was pleasant upon the skin. Although the warmth of the sun was fading as they climbed higher, the breeze was quite welcome and cooled them on their travels. Through gaps in the trees far in the south and the east, you could just make out the blue of the distant ocean. Ahead of them, the forest seemed to be thinning. Moss-covered rocky outcroppings were littered here and there and soon they were above the line of the trees. At this great elevation,, they could see the great city of Nearborne, with ships dotted along the far horizon. Ahead, they made their way between two competing peaks. Gray shale broke under their feet as they walked and tumbled down below.
“You can see nearly all the way to Garamas from here, Kotia.” Perthran said, as the band took a small break on a large clear boulder. Barron had not been at ease after they left the tree line and the comfort of the growing things. He paced slowly in a large circle around the group. Perthran produced a fine brass colored object from his belt. It was no larger than the palm of his hand, but extended within itself to the length of his forearm or more. Through the looking glass, he spied the country far and wide. Along the right edge of his sight, the jagged mountains continued to the sea. Next and along the shore, he spotted several small villages, little more than a group of houses near the shore. In a motion, he collapsed the beautiful artifact and stowed it away. “What does that pup of yours eat?” Perthran asked loudly. “Whomever he chooses.” Veryyn said. Everyone present seemed amused, but the smirks faded quickly as they realized no joke had been told.
After a light fare, they were once again on their way. Veryyn was solemn, and his thoughts strayed to his maiden. He had met her in terrain similar, but in vastly different circumstances. She had escaped from persecution far in the north. Her family had been forced out of power in her hold. Crawling along clutching the rocks, afraid to fall into the open sky, he had found her. They had lived an entire lifetime together since then, it seemed. Suddenly, Veryyn was pulled back from his straying daydream.
Barron had become restless. Ahead of them, a small batch of stones slid a short way down the steep path. Alerted, Perthran drew his wide-bladed machete that hung at his side. A spark reflected in Kotia’s eyes, and she turned her palms upward, posturing for battle. Small streams of the darkest red and black swirled about her fingers. The mountain ahead of them came to life. Crawling about the stones were strange lizard-like fiends. They writhed and crawled about the rock faces. Their bodies clung tightly to the stone, and when they stopped moving, they seemed to disappear into the terrain. “Kragcreeper’s!” Veryyn called out, drawing his knife.
Beady eyes focused on Veryyn. The kragcreepers rocky faces revealed several rows of jagged stony teeth. Together they charged Veryyn. Barron pounced upon one, but it’s thick hide protected it from any harm. Several more overwhelmed Barron, and Perthran brought his machete down in a great strike upon another, splitting it in two with ease. Veryyn circled around, attempting to outmaneuver the wild crawling lizards. Quickly, however, he became tangled in the flood. In an instant, there was an uproar. The battleground was stunned; elf, man, and beast were alike in their shock. The mountain shook beneath their feet.
Seeing the incoming assault, Kotia began muttering in whispy hushed tones. Forcefully, she placed her hands to the ground. The mountain quivered at her command, and loose rock and earth tumbled downward. A swirling dark mist surrounded her and the whispers were thunderous in the ear of every surrounding valley. In a wicked scramble, the kragcreepers were scattered among the rocks and retreated. When the immediate danger had passed they regrouped. “We can’t stay here. We need to move. They will be back. That is a nice trick Kotia.” Veryyn said. “A nice trick!” Perthran exclaimed. “You have forgotten your place, elf. This enchantress is Magi of the Aegaeon Isles. You’d best mind your tongue, elf” Kotia seemed to come out of a trance. The fog lifted from her eyes. She came to her feet firmly. “Let’s go.” Kotia said, “We need to make it below the tree line on the far side. We need to leave now.”
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