Well, after a long time of not writing much, I had a burst of focus today and finished Chapter Thirteen of my third book “When God’s Do Meddle”. I would love your comments and feedback on it down below.
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A gentle rain fell around them for much of the morning as they made their way north of the town. Although they were heading, once more, into the Shifting Wilderness this close to the edge the trees were sparse so they go frequent glimpses of the grey sky above and light from the occasional breaks in the clouds. They could also see their destination, the mountain capital of the MenverKas Empire, ascending at least a mile over the surrounding land. With the ever rising ground they could only see the upper slopes of the mountain, which were wholly bare, and what looked at a great distance like a single peak was seen to be a cluster of seven peak with dips between them that had the overall appearance of looking rather like a crowd. From all that they now knew of this ancient surprise, this would not have come as a surprise.
The group continued in silence for the rest of the day, with the forest growing slowly thicker and the ground ever higher. Tanara was not sure whether her companions were not speaking as they normally would have out of concern for what they were walking into or simply because they were keeping huddled under their hoods to ward off the rain. The rain did at least stop as they were getting toward evening, but this gave way to a cold and clinging mist as the days light faded. When they stopped for the night they had little choice but to light a fire to ward of the growing cold. Between Throm’s skill and Wendon’s magecraft they were able to make a large and warm fire that did not give off smoke. They knew that with the servants of the Dark One looking for them they had to pick a deep hallow in the side of a hill that limited the directions to which the firelight could be seen.
The night passed with each taking a turn on watch, and few words were spoken and the sleep of all of them was fitful at best. They rose with the dawn, ate a quick breakfast, and then mounted up and continued north. The day was windy that left their cloaks constantly fluttering, the trees rustling, leaves swirling, and large grey clouds racing across the sky. Looks forward, they could see the upper slopes of the mountain growing ever closer and the forest grew ever denser. Looking back from a clearing in the forest, they could see the forest stretching away below them and it was clear they were now quite a way above where the village had been and the river could be seen in the distance. This admiration was quickly broken as a fast movie grey cloud appeared in the sky and, worried that it was one of the strange portals of the Angelorum, they quickly moved back to cover. Seeing that it was moving with the wind, they all muttered to each other that it was likely just a cloud, but knowing what those strange clouds had been did not ease any of their minds.
It was getting toward evening when they reached the top of a ridge and saw a deep valley, at the center of which erupted their mountain objective. From the ridge they were on, the land dropped away sharply to the valley floor. Once there, all trace of tree or any other growing thing, was evident, just a series of rocky shelves which surrounded the mountain. The Mountain, around the very center of the valley, soared upward from there, looking to be similarly steep, and at points a sheer cliff. A quick stream emerged from the base of the mountain and wound its way south.
“Hmm,” nodded Throm. “without the information we were given, I would have thought this looked odd, but said no more about it. But knowing that this mountain was created by the craft and power of Tengana and her dwarven and Trollish acolytes, I can see it. The way these ridges and hills sit around this valley, it looks like some hand had reached down and scooped out some of the land and piled it up in the crater that was left.”
Everyone else nodded and Varda mused, “I had often thought it odd as well, but I also did not consider it any further the few times I have passed nearby.”
Belkor sighed, “I don’t fancy spending more time out in the open, how do we get inside.”
Wendon, having been eagerly paging through the random notes that he had, excitedly point to a deep cliff that seemed to be carved out on the southern face of the mountain, “right there, that notch out of the side of the mountain on its south face is the main gates of the city.”
“Will we be able to open it, if it is shut, which I imagine it would be?” inquired Tanara with a frown.
Throm chuckled, “no. It might look small from a distance but the door is at least 20 feet tall and weight thousands of pounds. There are, no doubt, mechanisms inside to move the door more easily but we do not have access to it. Even all six, well, five, of us lack the strength to move that, and we do not have the power if magecraft to move it.”
“sorry, Wendon,” he put in quickly.
Wendon chuckled and waved it away, “its quite alright. From what I know of Dwarven Doors like that, I think it would take my whole order to even have a chance of opening it by magic.”
“Then how do we get in?” asked a puzzled Varda.
Wendon and Throm bowed for a moment over the former’s notes and maps and discussed in hurried whispers. They nodded suddenly to each other and then turned around to address the group.
Throm pointed to the top of the mountain, “you see there, the dips between the individual peaks of the mountain? When the Dwarves dwelt within the mountain, there was a watchtower in each to give even better of the lands around. The towers themselves are gone but they had entrance into the mountain itself.”
Wendon nodded along before adding, “it is a shame that they are not there, the information we have says that the towers atop the mountain gave the impression of being a crown.”
Throm nodded in agreement of this and had a far away, almost sorrowful look, “yes, that would have been something to so.”
After a moment’s silence, Belkor cleared his throat and asked, “How long will it take us to get up there?”
Tanara stepped forward and took a look down the steep slope into the valley and carefully surveyed the sharp rise of the mountain beyond. After this had gone on for a moment she turned to the others and said, “The light is fading, but I think if we are careful we can reach the bottom of the valley by nightfall. From there, I am not sure, the mountain is steep, but it looks like there are a few places where it might be possible to ride up the mountain,” she finished, trailing off.
Belkor nodded and gave a half smile, “You have the best eyes of the rest of us, can you make a guess?”
Tanara sighed, “depending on how hard it is to find paths, it might take a day to reach the top of the mountain, depending on how well the horses handle the climb and what paths we find.”
Belkor frowned, “I don’t much like the idea of spending so much time in clear view.”
Tanara shrugged, “nor do I, but if this is, indeed, or path then we have little choice.”
Belkor and the rest of the company all gave their own shrugs and grunts of agreement and they mounted their horses once more and continued down the slope. As Tanara had guessed, it was steep, thickly forested, and quite rocky so their progress was slow. With the thickness of the trees and brush, Tanara dismounted and lit a torch as night set in, and led them the rest of the way to the valley floor. They stopped to camp a little way from the sudden end to the trees, lit a small fire, ate quickly, and went to sleep with Tanara taking the first watch.
A grey and damp morning greeted them the next day. This only added to the eerie emptiness of the valley, which really did look like a great hand had dug into the earth. Greyish stone stretched in every direction as far as they could see, which was not far with the chilly mist that clung to everything around them. None of them could be sure whether it was the intervention of one of the Gods, or merely typical weather of the autumn that gave them such cover, but they did not want to waste it. They ate a quick breakfast, packed up their gear, and set off.
If the mist that shrouded the valley and the mountain shielded them from any possible pursuers, then it also made it all the more difficult to find a clear path. They crossed the valley itself quickly and the very beginning of the slope were easy as well, but soon they frequently found themselves facing cliffs and crags that were entirely impassable and all had to work together to find appropriate paths for their horses. There was once or twice where after a long search they had been just about to leave their horses behind and climb the mountain by hand when a shift of the wind, or one last look, finally revealed an appropriate path.
The grey clouds they could glimpse above prevented the sun from burning away the mist until a break came later in the day. With the mountain clearing up, they could see that they were actually quite high up on the mountain, although it was hard to tell how much time it would take to reach the peaks. They could see some distance around them and Tanara indeed took advantage of this to survey their surroundings. It was impossible to see whether anything might be moving through the thick woods that surrounded the valley, but she saw no sign of anything coming their way. She was not sure, but she thought she could see the distant sea away to the east.
Belkor, who had also been surveying their surroundings, pointed to the North East at what look like many small columns of smoke rising in the distance. “What is that?” He asked.
All eyes turned the direction he was indicating and studied it for a moment. It was Varna that spoke first, “That number of fires makes me think that it is one of the armies that are, I would imagine, soon to clash if they haven’t already.”
“Wonder which one it is,” mused Wendon, making a note on a parchment which he drew from under his coat.
Tanara shook her head, “no way to tell, probably even if the forest wasn’t in the way.”
Belkor grunted and then indicated with a gesture of his head that they should continue to climb. Reaching the peaks of the mountain took the rest of the day. Even in the fading light of the evening, they could see that what looked like the foundations of a great tower sitting in the dip between the two peaks they came up between. It was made of a much darker stone than the grey of the mountain and surrounding valley, and everyone could clearly see how a ring of such towers could easily be mistaken for a crown at a distance.
In the fading light of the day, and seeing the state of the ruined foundations, they determined that it would be safest to rest for the night and then search again the following day. Luckily, there was enough of the watchtowers left to provide them, and their horses, some shelter from the wind, and a place that was impossible to see from a distance. Wendon conjured a smokeless fire to warm them from the cold mountain air, and they slept as best they could with the wind whistling around them.
They awoke the next morning to the mountain again covered in mist. This time it seemed as if a whole great cloud had come to rest on the peak of the mountain. The wind swirled around them and even in their cloaks it seemed to tear through them. Not wanting to waste any time, they ate quickly and began their search for a door to go down into the mountain.
It took some little time, and care, to pick their way through the crumbled stones to find a way down into what would have been the below ground areas of the tower. At one point they even had to carefully climb down a crumbling stone wall as no stair seemed to exist any longer. Once they had reached the lowest level, it did not take long for the door into the mountain to be found.
The door was large, nearly ten feet in height, and almost as broad again. It was made of a thick and dark wood, bound in well forged iron, and showed signs of charring. They counted themselves lucky, or favored by some god or another, that the door was a little ways ajar rather than latched from the other side. Once Wendon had done a careful search for any form of magecraft and Throm for any kind of device or trap, the others approached the door. It took the effort of all of them to push the door a little more open, its rusty hinges groaning the entire time, so that they could pass inside.
They were greeted with a dark room with what seemed like a gaping hole on the far side. Figuring that if there was anything about, they likely would have already been alerted by the loud creak of the hinges, so they pulled some torches form their own bags and lit them. This revealed a plain, and unadorned room about twice as long, from the door to the far wall, as it was wide. There were passages leading to either side, one closed and barred and the other opening to a corridor that had collapsed a few feet in. What they had thought was some black hole in the floor turned out to be a stone staircase spiraling down into the mountain. With a look and a nod at one another, they started making their way down.
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