With feelings of uneasiness Ripsnout looked at his seven traveling companions. He had never talked to an outsider before today. Now, these outsiders were willing to help his clan, plus trust him with their lives. Ripsnout wondered why the clan had remained so isolated. Maybe they had been wrong to hide from the outside world for all these years. Ripsnout remembered a fable of his clan telling the story about the appearance of the seven strangers. Their courage and guidance would bring the clan to a reunion with their past. He needed to have a long talk with his elders when he returned to the Homekeep.
Before the travelers mounted their horses, Ripsnout said, “We must travel quietly. Please do not talk or create any unnecessary noise. I will lead the way.”
Ripsnout then started jogging up the ravine at a steady pace. Magee and Norbert were the first to mount their horses with the help of Coaldon and Earthkin. The two men grunted as they pushed the two groaning bodies onto their saddles. Ripsnout was out of sight when the group was ready to depart. Pacer took the lead with the intention of catching up with their guide. As the morning passed, the group made good progress up the long narrow gorge. Magee and Norbert knew there was no reason to complain. They were happy to have escaped from Neverly.
The journey was a fascinating expedition into an unknown world. The ravine became narrower and deeper as the group traveled up the channel. Over time, rocks and dirt had collapsed into the gorge making it increasingly difficult to travel over the rough surface of the ravine floor. The group was entertained by Sid’s playful behavior. The dog seemed to enjoy the company of Ripsnout and the unique odors of the gorge. At noon Ripsnout led the group to a small spring in the wall of the gorge. Coaldon suggested the group take a short break to rest, eat and enjoy the taste of fresh water. Magee and Norbert dreaded the thought of getting off and back on their horses. The aches and pains of their abused muscles would be overwhelming. With bold courage and laughter, they literally melted off of the horses. Once on the ground they slowly walked around to increase the blood flow in their legs.
The break was short but refreshing. Ripsnout was tense as he observed the surrounding area. He was particularly interested in watching the top of the ravine. Ripsnout’s nervousness caused Pacer and Coaldon to encourage the group to continue the journey. In a quiet voice Ripsnout said to the group, “I have the feeling we have been detected. We must be out of the ravine by nightfall.”
Ripsnout again started to jog ahead of the group. He set a faster pace than in the morning. The terrain in the bottom of the ravine became more difficult to travel. Landslides from the steep walls of the gorge created obstacles that slowed their progress. The group made steady advance until mid-afternoon, when they came to a massive landslide.
Pacer looked over the pile of dirt and rocks with a critical eye. He said to the group, “We should be able to make it over the blockage if we walk across the face of the mound at an angle starting from the south side. We will need to lead the horses by hand because the surface of the mound is too steep for us to ride.”
Leading his horse, Pacer led the way up the side of the steep mound with short even steps. The soft, loose earth beneath his feet kept breaking away, causing him to slide down the slope. When he reached the top of the mound, his high spirited horse exploded in frustration. The horse bolted away from Pacer and charged down the slope. After the horse loped down the pile of dirt, it galloped out of sight down the ravine. This left a distinct impression on the travelers. The members of the group knew the horses were essential to successfully complete the journey. With patience, the travelers led the remaining horses over the obstacle. Pacer volunteered to walk the remainder of the way.
As the group prepared to continue the trip, they noticed that Ripsnout had disappeared. Coaldon responded, “We have no choice but to continue traveling in this direction. I just hope Ripsnout has not betrayed us.”
At a quickstep march, the travelers maintained a steady pace for the remainder of the day. Yet, to everybody’s uneasiness Ripsnout did not reappear. The towering peaks of the Sadden Mountains loomed over their heads as the sun dropped low into the west. The unnatural scar of the ravine opened into the broad expanse of a beautiful valley. A collective sigh of relief went up from the travelers as they left the claustrophobic prison of the ravine.
As the sun dropped low in the western horizon, Pacer led the group toward a large rocky formation under a tall, bowl shaped cliff. As the group walked across the valley floor, Sid’s behavior changed. He lifted his nose, sniffing the air in a restless manner. Coaldon noticed that Sid’s eyes kept looking toward the mouth of the valley.
Coaldon said in a loud voice, “Sid has detected something. We might have a problem.”
The group set off at a run toward an outcrop of rocks. Upon arriving, Sid started to growl and bark. The growing darkness did not allow the travelers to see why the dog was so excited.
Pacer called the group together, saying, “I have found a trail leading into the rocks. It is too narrow for the horses to follow. Should we wait here with the horses, or let the horses go and follow the trail?”
Before anybody could respond, the boom of a large drum could be heard in the distance. This was followed by the scream of many voices. The beat of the drum increased as the invading force spread across the valley like ants. To Coaldon, the sound of the voices was only too familiar.
He was the first to speak, “Our unwanted friends have come to greet us. I never imagined trogs would be found in this part of the Empire.
The arrival of the trog army made their decision easy. Pacer said, “We have no choice but to release the horses and defend ourselves.”
Working quickly, the group removed the tack and freed the horses. Earthkin led the way down the winding trail extending into the rock formation. Sid walked next to Earthkin as the group stumbled along in the darkness. Then for some unknown reason, Sid started leading the group. As his nose sniffed the ground, he seemed to follow a preordained path.
The journey through the maze of rocks was interrupted by loud shouts behind them. The warriors knew the trog trackers had picked up their scent. It would only be moments before the trogs would be chasing them. To everyone’s satisfaction the moon rose in the east. Its soft light filtered into the jumble of rocks revealing the path. At a narrow section of the trail, Coaldon, Brother Patrick and Pacer told the group to continue while they attempted to slow the pursuit of the trogs.
The three warriors anxiously waited until they heard footsteps rushing down the trail. The men leaped in front of the invading force with their sword blades flashing in the moonlight. Death awaited the unsuspecting and unprepared trogs. Wounded trog bodies piled up on top of each other as new victims were pushed into the killing zone by trogs behind them. The arms of the three warriors ached with fatigue when the trogs finally stopped their advance. Never had Brother Patrick or Pacer experienced such carnage.
Coaldon said to Pacer, “I believe this should stop their attack until morning. Hopefully by then we will find a way to deal with our unwelcome visitors.” Pacer nodded as the three men walked into uncertainty.
It was easy for Pacer to follow the trail left by their companions. As he moved through the maze of rocks, he was fascinated by the grandeur of his surroundings. The soft moon light cast a mysterious aura over the vast formation.
He thought, “The forces of nature must have been guided by the hand of the One Presence to fashion this colossal labyrinth. Only the celestial artist could have created the sheer cliffs into such an exquisite masterpiece.”
As Pacer became immersed in this beauty, the memories of the massacre faded.
After a long walk through the narrow passageway of rocks, they entered into a large bowl-shaped arena. They could see the cliff wrapped around the enclosure. They found the arena deceptively large. It was obvious a large crowd of people could gather in the immense space. At the far end of the natural coliseum a small fire greeted their arrival. The three warriors were welcomed by their companions with eager voic
es. The warriors described the results of their victorious battle.
When Earthkin finally spoke, his news was discouraging. He stated, “I have searched the bowl, but could not find an escape route.”
Coaldon responded, “We will need to wait until daylight to reexamine the area to find a way to escape. I suggest we rest for the remainder of the night. We will need to be ready for the challenge awaiting us.”
On the following morning the deep, resonating beat of a war drum awakened the group. The slow steady cadence meant the trog army was being summoned to prepare for battle. The booming sound of the drum had an irritating effect on the travelers.
As they sat around the fire eating breakfast, Pacer stated, “We will face death unless we can find a way out of here. After we eat, I want each of you to search for an escape route. We might try to go back the way we came in, but I believe the passage way will be guarded. If we do not find a way to escape, I suggest we defend ourselves from this position against the cliff wall.”
The group carefully searched the arena but was unsuccessful in finding an escape route. Everyone gathered around the fire in a mood of desperation. In the distance, the war drum increased in cadence. As the group debated what to do, their attention was drawn to the entrance into the coliseum. Beasts with tall, lean bodies ran into the bowl. These creatures had long narrow faces, with large eyes, big ears, wide mouths and broad foreheads. Their ugly heads stood on top of powerful, hairy bodies with long legs and gangly arms. From ancient books, Pacer recognized the beasts as geks. The gek’s evil eyes intently searched the valley to find the victims of their blood lust.
Yells of excitement erupted when they spotted the small group huddled against the far end of the arena under the towering cliffs. The geks laughed with sarcasm when they saw the small group huddled together. The far side of the bowl soon filled with an army of Geks and Trogs. They chanted, “Crossmore! Crossmore! Crossmore! Victory! Victory! Victory!” These chants were in unison with the beating of the war drum. With the authority of slave drivers, the geks started to whip the trogs into a state of frenzy.
Without warning, the trogs and geks became quiet and subdued. The beating of the war drum stopped as the trog army separated down the middle to form a walkway. The trogs fell to their knees, bowed and touched their foreheads on the ground. There was complete silence as a giant gek wearing a purple robe slowly walked through the trogs to the center of the arena. The huge gek looked with arrogance and contempt at the seven lonely people standing against the cliff wall. The beast gave a loud mocking laugh that echoed around the bowl. It then raised a clenched fist into the air as a sign of conquest.
In a loud booming voice, the beast said, “Our Great Lord Crossmore sends greetings and compliments. He is impressed with your courage, wisdom and skills. You have done well in challenging his power. He wishes to offer you the opportunity to escape from your imminent death. He will grant you freedom, but only under one condition. You must release Noel to me. Lord Crossmore has a deep love for this intelligent, beautiful damsel. He wishes to share his life with her in heavenly bliss. She will be queen of the Empire with the power to help lead it to a new glory. If she is not released immediately, I will crush you. You will not escape me.”
Coaldon stepped forward with the confidence and deportment of a mighty warrior. Pacer, Brother Patrick and Earthkin stood in a line behind him with swords drawn. With dignity, Coaldon slowly drew his sword and pointed it at the giant gek. In a calm voice he responded, “I am Coaldon of Rocknee, the Hand on the Sword. I am a man of few words and commanding actions. I accept Lord Crossmore’s compliments with gratitude. He is a man of greed and dishonor. I therefore reject your offer of freedom in exchange for the enslavement of my sister Noel. Let the battle begin!”
A bolt of light raged out of the tip of Coaldon’s sword, striking the giant gek in the chest. The beast evaporated into a cloud of smoke and dust. The trogs and geks jumped to their feet in shock and dismay. They watched Coaldon, but did not take action. Their leader had been destroyed.
Another large gek stepped forward from the crowd to take control the trog army. Coaldon did not hesitate to destroy this gek in the same manner. The half elf stood in defiance of the army cowering before him.
Coaldon knew the trogs would be unable to attack until they had a new leader. The trog army needed the control of a royal gek in order to attack. He realized his strategy would only temporarily delay the assault. He waited impatiently for a new leader to emerge from the ranks of the geks. He felt a sense of futility as he observed the trogs changing from passive observers to vicious fighters. The trogs were forming battle lines in anticipation of the command to strike. Coaldon tried to identify the new commander, but to no avail.
Coaldon turned to face his companions. With nobility, he raised his sword in salutations to his sister and friends. He then turned to confront the advancing army with an unnatural calm and serenity. His eyes blazed with the determination to defend all that was good. The trogs were once again being whipped into a frantic emotional state by the geks. As they beat their swords and shields together, the attack lines continued to advance across the arena.
The arena was suddenly filled with a loud, rumbling sound that caused the trogs to halt their attack. Coaldon glanced back to see a door open in the face of the cliff. Out of the opening a large company of dwarves surged forth, screaming guttural war cries. The trogs had faced these battle cries and warriors in the past. The dwarf attack meant death and carnage. The trogs started to retreat in panic.
The dwarves formed three lines across the floor of the arena. The warriors in the first line carried bundles of lightweight spears. As the first line took position, they began throwing spears at the trogs with pinpoint accuracy. The second line of warriors was composed of archers. Upon command, the archers shot arrows into the trog army in wave after wave of skilled marksmanship. The last of line of dwarves attacked with pike and sword. The front line of the trog’s advance was laid waste by the dwarves’ assault. The trogs and geks turned and stampeded across the arena running over and crushing their own rear guard.
As suddenly as the dwarves had appeared, they also retreated back into the cave. Ripsnout in light armor rushed up to the seven travelers, waving for them to follow him. Without hesitation, the group pursued the dwarves into the dark cave. When everybody was inside the cave, the door was closed and a large metal latch lowered in place. Heavy breathing and the pungent odor of sweat filled the narrow confines of the passageway. Silence saturated the pitch-black darkness of the cave. In uncertainty, the dwarves and humans stood together.
~ ~
The Homekeep