Hello and long time no update, but I have been hard at work writing, and here is an excerpt from Chapter Eleven of my Work in Progress, which title The Tomb of Laggus. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts and feedback on this chapter excerpt, and would love it if you would like, share, and subscribe, and it would be double cool if you check out The Shadow of the Past and And the Sun Burned Red, by two completed books, available on Amazon and linked to the right.
Another thing that I have been working on is posting regular Youtube videos in which I have been sharing thoughts about my Mental Health and how it has impacted my work, the various influences I have had over the years, my writing process, and also reading chapters of The Shadow of the Past for those more interested in an audio experience.
It would be awesome for you all to head on over to my channel, check out the videos, like share, subscribe, and leave some comments of your own thoughts. Jon Holtgrefe
They were greeted by a sight that was equal parts impressive and eerie. A shallow valley stretched out before them. The valley was perhaps a half dozen miles long, stretching from a deep channel in the rock, a mile or two to their left through which the Tamlyc river poured, to the place where the mountain began the assent to its rocky peak. At its widest point, the valley was perhaps three miles wide and surrounded by sharp and jagged rocks. The valley itself was dominated by water. It was hard to say whether to call it a lake, or a marsh, but muddy and often swirling water stretched around countless small mounts of earth and weathered stone. It appeared that the depth was shallow for much of its area, judging by the various plants and grasses visible above the surface, although based on the various water plants clinging to what land was visible, and it was easy to guess that for at least part of the year much of this valley was wholly underwater.
Varna stared with a mixture of awe and sadness at the sight before them. Though many long millennia had passed since the city had been abandoned there was evidence of carven stone, many of the mounds of earth were perfectly square, with evidence that the water between them was flowing through a carefully carved channel. The others were taking in the same thing and looking around for some time before anyone broke the silence.
“Perhaps I have no right to say this, given my chosen profession,” said Belkor with a sight, “but places like this fill me with a strong melancholy. To see the ruins of what was once clearly a great and carefully constructed city, and imagine the lives of all those that lived here, all these years ago, is something that few are able to experience. It feels both a privilege and a sacrilege to be standing here.”
The rest of the group nodded in understanding of this and Throm was the first to speak up, “It is a unique experience, to be certain, and I appreciate that you insist on being as careful and respectful as possible. But, where is this key we are looking for. We are already deep into the autumn and I don’t fancy being up in the mountains if it should turn to snow early this year.”
After thinking for a moment, the dwarf added, “I apologize for rushing, Varna. This must be even worse for you.”
Varna seemed to be shaken out of her thoughts by this, “what? Oh, yes. It is quite alright Throm. Sorry for taking so long. The stories of my people speak of this place but even its location has been lost for so long that I was unprepared for the nostalgia it would bring back to me. I am quite alright and ready to move on.”
Belkor moved his horse a few steps forward and placed a kind hand on the river troll’s shoulders and gave it a comforting squeeze. Once that gesture was accomplished, he turned to their mage, “Wendon, you know these tales better than any of us. What are we looking for.”
Wendon, who had been the first to turn his eyes away from the valley to start rummaging through the parchments scrolls in his saddle bags, looked up almost startled, but quickly recovered himself, flipped through several of the pages in his hands, and brought one to the front. He cleared his throat and began, “And thus did Laggus the Builder, most honored acolyte of Fla’ana, who went to war a prince both hale and happy, returned in triumph and glory as a king, grim and scarred. Many treasures did he return with which he shared freely with his people, greatly enlarging both his capital and the many cities and temples of his whole empire. Traders came from across the Terra to trade, builders and scholars to learn, and envoys to court friendship. The Court of Laggus was known far and wide as wise and measured. For sixty years he ruled and never was the Empire of the River Trolls stronger or more regarded, and never would be again. When Laggus passed into the arms of the goddess his empire and all his treasures, save one, he left to his granddaughter to carry on his legacy. Even when his empire and his beloved city were no more still his tomb watches over the source of the river and city he loved.”
Throm turned his head toward the channel of rock where the water rushed from the marshy lake and over the first fall. “Well, hopefully your ancestors hid his tomb well, because I can see from here signs of ancient excavations. While few, if any, would guess, much less remember, what treasure might have been buried with him, over the hundreds and thousands of years since his death it appears that others have sought his tomb and the treasure he thought precious enough to take to his grave.”
Throm turned his horse and was just urging it up to a trot, followed by the others, when Varna cried out for them to stop. She was studying the map of the continent’s waterways and as the rest turned back and circled around her she tilted the map and pointed to a small slip of water jutting out from the lake around which they stood. “The map lists the Tamlyc river as starting further up in the mountains, as it would have when the river still flowed straight through the city. I believe his tomb is up there.”
Wendon nodded at this, “every map I recall seeing of the continent shows the Tamlyc River starting here, and as you mentioned, most recent scholarly speculation and the accounts of artefact hunters have long thought Revinia further down the mountain. My guess would be that early seekers searched for the tomb at the top of the first waterfall, and over years of finding nothing, began looking lower and lower on the river.”
Belkor nodded, “well, thanks be to Fla’ana that she gifted us with this map. Now, Throm is right, both the day and year are not getting any younger and it might take us some time to find this tomb. What is more I don’t like the look of the clouds gathering to the west. Let’s move on.”
With nods all around, Maelith led the way as they looped around the outer edge of the lake and way to the south. There was enough of a shore to the lake that they were mostly able to avoid the tall and uneven rocks away to their right, and made quick progress until they reached the southern end of the valley. It took some searching before Maelith spotted what looked to be a carven path up into the mountains. With the light fading, and both them and their horses tired from the long, slow climb of the day, they chose to camp for the day, finding a protected hollow of rock to settle down for the evening. A few, lone mountain pine trees provided them with enough wood for a small fire and to keep them warm as the chill of the night set in.
Morning greeted them with a cold fog the clung to the surface of the lake and the rest of the valley around. Things were too damp for a standard flint and tinder, so they turned to Wendon to conjure a fire in what was left of the wood they had collected the evening before. They and even the horses huddled close to drive away the chill before they packed up and set off up the mountains.
It wasn’t long before the path they followed led them above the fog, which on turning back hid the rest of the valley and ruined city from view, and while the mountain air was still cold, they at least had the warmth of the sun upon them. The clouds that had been gathering to the West the previous day seemed to be moving to the south but they all were all to aware that being high on a mountain when an autumn storm hit would be dangerous and it would only take a small shift of the winds for that to occur. With that on everyone’s mind, they road in silence and as quickly as the well worn stone path would allow.
It was perhaps an hour after they left the fog and the valley behind that they came to a place where three small mountain streams converged and began to flow down the mountain. They had reached the source of the Tamlyc River. The group dismounted and began to look around for signs of an entrance or a tomb. It was Throm who found something first. Above the place where the three streams met and just to the right of the spring from which the middle stream poured forth, facing up the mountain, stood what looked from a distance to be an unassuming pile of rocks. On closer inspection it could be seen that between two rocks was a set of stairs carved into the mountain itself. They had prepared torches from some pine sap and after a descent of about a hundred feet they came to what appeared to be a dead end, but with a faint etching at about eyeline.
Varna held her torch close and squinted at the carven letters for several minutes, before standing back and saying, “The writing is definitely the ancient script of my people. I cannot make out all of it but I believe it is a request not to disturb what is within and an invocation of Fla’ana for protection. It does not mention the name of Laggus, but such a request and invocation are our tradition for our burials to this day.”
Belkor nodded at this, “this seems a good place to start then. I am guessing there is some kind of hidden door here then. Throm?”
Throm was already pulling a bundle of tools out of his bag. “On it,” he said with a grunt as he moved to the wall and by the light of Varna and Belkor’s torches began to make an inspection of the door, first with small telescope of sorts and then pressing his head to the wall and tapping it with various tools.
Belkor turned back to look at Wendon, “while he is looking for a mechanism, do you sense any spells or enchantments that we should be careful of?”
Wendon closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and stretched both his hands out before him. As he continued to breath slowly and deeply, his fingers began to move slowly as if he were inspecting a fine piece of cloth or other artwork. After a moment of this he lowered his arms and opened his eyes. “There are spells and enchantments at work further in, strong and ancient ones although I cannot tell more from so far away, but there are none here, upon this door.”
Throm nodded at this and continued his search, shortly after finding a small imperfection on the right side of the wall. He carefully examined the crack with several of his smaller tools, which revealed a symmetrical indentation into the stone. He examined it closely with his seeing glass and then, with a nod of satisfaction, pulled out a small, iron prybar. He placed one end into the indentation carefully and gently maneuvered it around until there was an audible click. He then firmly pushed inward until there was another click, and then, taking a deep breath, pushed the bar towards the right wall.
Several more clicks, followed by several dull thuds, occurred and straight lines appeared in the wall just to the left of the indentation and near the left wall as well. The now revealed stone door shift inward, pivoting on the left, several inches and then stopped. Throm withdrew the prybar and packed it and his other tools away before turning to the others.
“Right,” he said. “Belkor, Tanara, get over here. It will take some muscle to shift this enough to pass through. Belkor handed his torch to Wendon and Varna moved out of the way as Tanara came down the last few stairs to stand beside the dwarf. With a nod to each other, they placed their hands upon the right side of the door, and with a count of three they pushed.
Tanara grunted has her wiry muscles tensed and strained against the stone door. For a moment it seemed like there efforts would be for not, but with a slow, scraping sound the door began to swing inward. At first an agonizing inch at a time, but soon one inch became two which became for as they were able to build up moment. They stopped when the door was wide enough to allow all easy passage. Throm took several minutes to rub and stretch his shoulders and accepted a drink of water before taking up his back again. Belkor stretched his back and grumbled about not being as young as he once was. Tanara stretched a little and took a drink from her water skin as Maelith returned her pack to her. She thought to herself that while she was the least winded of the three it was hopefully the last door that they had to open by brute force.
The opened door revealed yet more stairs, now in a gentle spiral further into the mountain. They made their way down for what felt like a long time to Tanara, but she had been in enough narrow stone tunnels to guess that it had probably only been a few moments and just that the surroundings made it seem longer.
At the foot of the stairs they came to a wide, circular room from which 7 others paths branched off into pitch dark tunnels. Various ornaments and carvings, it seemed of many different peoples and cultures, decorated the room and there appeared to be a brazier between each of the entrances sticking from bracket in the wall. At the center of the room was a carved stone seat, the details obscured in limited light their torches provided, upon which sat what at first seemed like a woman, but was actually a statue. At Belkor’s suggestion, the first thing they did was move around the room and light the braziers if they could. It was something of a surprise that after however many uncounted years they still lit quickly.
It was to their surprise that, when the final brazier was lit, a voice addressed them. “Who would disturb the Tomb of Laggus the Builder, honored among all gods and people?”
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