***
The Knights seemed in good spirits the next day. As they rode through the Northern Hills, they talked of jolly things that Lannon listened to with interest for a while and then grew bored with. They spoke of battles past and humorous affairs, of failed Knights and talented ones, the state of the land (with no references to Goblins), and the relationships of the Birlotes, Noracks, and Olrogs. They also talked of things Lannon found boring, like trade and taxation and the value of money. Soon Lannon's mind began to stray from their conversations to thoughts of his folks, the journey, and what awaited him at Dremlock.
By afternoon they had reached the forest lands of Hethos, where trees stood reaching heights of two hundred feet or more and had trunks as wide as cabins. The clouds had broken this day, and the sun streamed down amid the furry pine branches, scattering mottled patches of light across the forest floor. The mist was clearing up. Hethos consisted of vast stretches of woodlands interrupted briefly now and then by farms, hill country, and grasslands.
They stayed the night in a little town called Fargun's Vale that was full of hunters and trappers. It was a rough place, but had a fancy inn called the Divine Alehouse, which was built exclusively for Knights and Rangers. Yet even in this thick-walled inn, which lay on the very edge of town, the travelers could hear brawls and shouts throughout the night.
The next morning, they set off with the shadows still thick about the forest. The wooded hills and valleys continued on, and the ride there was pleasant, the day's warmth held in check by cool breezes. The air was fresh and sweet in their lungs, and the forest was rich with animal life--a welcome change from Bloodlands. They took long breaks for lunch and dinner, resting on soft pine needles, and their spirits were high.
By late afternoon they had reached the muddy banks of the Sorgrot River, which flowed down from the Firepit Mountains. The Firepit range towered above them, stretching from east to west as far as they could see. The forest climbed high into the peaks, a carpet of green clinging to the mountainsides.
Lannon got his first glimpse of the great stone wall that protected Dremlock Kingdom, which sat on a plateau about a quarter of the way up Darkender Mountain (as the Knights called the great peak). Lannon could see a few buildings here and there on plateaus leading up to where Dremlock sat.
The travelers followed the road, winding upward alongside the river. The shadows of evening descended swiftly amid the pines and boulders, with blazing stars visible in the open spaces between the boughs. Wolves howled amongst the forests and rocky ledges, drawing threateningly close at times. The Greywinds snorted contemptuously at the wolf howls and trotted with their heads held high. These warhorses, seldom afraid of anything, were used to the wolves and did not fear them.
The Knights lit lanterns, and soon the shadows around their sphere of light became too thick to peer into. Yet still they followed the road on its steady climb upward into the mountains. Gradually the river curved away, the roar of rushing water growing ever fainter.
At last they reached a wooded plateau where a town called Hollow Deep sat, which consisted of several shops and a place called Knights Lore Inn. "We shall sleep here tonight," Cordus said. "And early tomorrow ride on to Dremlock."
Unlike the Dead Goblin Inn or the Alehouse in Fargun's Vale, the stay at Knights Lore Inn was a jolly affair. The folks inside greeted the travelers with laughter and cheers. They were given delicious food, baths, and the best rooms in the place. Immediately after Lannon's meal and bath, Cordus told him to go to bed while the Knights engaged in a bit of merrymaking downstairs. The lad was disappointed, for many strange characters inhabited this place--some who looked Knightly, as well as some Ranger types, and a few mysterious fellows who preferred to sit in the shadowy corners. The atmosphere was warm, pleasant, and exciting. A richly dressed Bard sang songs of Knightly battles and victories.
As Lannon lay down to sleep, he listened to the sounds below, wishing he were part of the merriment. Yet soon his thoughts turned to other matters. Dremlock Kingdom was close--somewhere up above him on the mountainside--and in the morning he would climb to that legendary place to begin his new life. He kept shifting about restlessly, certain he would stay awake all night and end up dead tired come morning. But the feather bed was agreeable with slumber, and the Bard's singing, faint and unintelligible though it was from there, helped him relax until he slipped into a deep sleep.