Author: Atticus
535 Views
0 Comments
|
Ok, this is part two of what i had hoped would be a two part story, but now is looking more like three, please forgive me and enjoy :D
Chapter 2: the charnel hills
A cold wind blew in from the west, stinging Sathek’s eyes and making them water. He looked back eastward and thought he could barely make out the watchtowers of western Freeport in the fading light. And although it seemed wholly irrational at the time, he found himself wondering if this was the last time he would ever see them. They had been walking for three days, and were about a mile or so from reaching the foot of the western hills, sometimes called the Charnel hills, wherein lay their destination. The Charnel Hills, named so because of their ashen color and the fact that, on certain days of the year, the sunrise caused the rocky outcroppings on the eastern face to look just like enormous skulls. Both Sathek and Veshar had crossed the hills many times, and knew that they were nothing to fear, but, given the nature of their business there, those grinning teeth and empty orbits looked strangely daunting.
On the day they left Freeport the morning sky had been blood red, a sign of good fortune in iksar lore, and that of bad luck in many others. They arrived at the militia headquarters while many of the city’s inhabitants were still snoring in their beds. The general had commended them on their promptness, causing Veshar to assault him with a barrage of compliments, and had then proceeded to brief them on the task at hand. The general provided them with a weeks worth of rations, a few skins of water, and a map to the entrance of Xalgoz’ lair. General T’vek explained that the entrance to the lair was a large discolored boulder with a prominent crack running from top to bottom. “The entrance itself is located at the foot of a huge limestone cliff” he’d said “The specifics of how to reach that cliff are written on the map I gave you, so I wont go into that.” He then produced a small bone key from a drawer in his big marble desk. “This is the key to Xalgoz’ lair,” He said “the keyhole should be located just to the left of the boulder, and once opened, the passage will remain so until the key is removed”. He handed the Key to Sathek who turned it over in his hand, and wondered at the horrors it had seen.
Next, they spoke briefly of what they should say and how they should act when they met Xalgoz.
“I’ve never met him myself but I’m told he’s a bit hard to talk to” said the general “uses a lot of strange words, and slanted language. He seems to have a few bats in the belfry if you know what I mean. But I suppose talking to no one but skeletons for hundreds of years will do that to a body. He tends to be easily insulted, but if you mind your P’s and Q’s and address him as a superior you should be fine”
They were also given custody of the sacrifice at this time, a young ratonga by the name of Sneed. Sneed was cheerful upon their meeting and seemed genuinely excited to be going along on what he thought was the excavation of a newly abandoned dragon’s lair. That meant treasure, and lots of it. He was rather talkative and even cracked several jokes as they readied their gear for the journey, laughing hysterically at every one, like a clown who thought he was being laughed with rather than at. Sathek even got a chuckle or two out of Sneed’s antics, and he found himself feeling bad for the young ratonga. Ratonga were generally treated as second class citizens in Freeport, but Sathek had fought along side several good, loyal ratonga, and found them to be great allies in a pinch. He knew that the sacrifice was necessary for the future of the alliance, but (whether he knew it or not) he had been secretly hoping that the victim would keep to himself, maybe even be dislikeable. It’s much easier to put down a lame dog if the dog isn’t your own.
Finally the general presented each of them with an official militia long sword, with glittering fine-steel blades, and golden hilts whose pommels were embossed with the crest of Lucan.
They set out in the late morning, and before noon they could already see the southernmost fringes of the Nektulos Forest to their right, creeping toward them like the foam of a dark and brooding ocean. The Journey went relatively smoothly and, by the second day, they had only needed to steel themselves twice. Once, in the western steppes against a group of would be highwaymen, and again that night, when Veshar had fallen asleep on his lookout shift, and a band of goblins had tried to pilfer their packs. Now, on the third day of their journey, with no obstacles in sight, they were within twenty minutes of reaching their goal. Sneed was cheerful the entire way, and had fought bravely when it was necessary. Sathek found himself liking the young rat more and more and feeling increasingly bad about deceiving him, but he would not deviate from the plan, and would not falter when it came time to hand Sneed over to Xalgoz. He would admit, however, that he was dreading that moment. It would be hard to look into the ratonga’s face as the first rays of betrayal began to dawn on his mind, he would probably see that expression in his dreams for the rest of his life. For this reason, Sathek tried his best to keep Sneed in good humor for the last few days of his life, smiling at his jokes, and nodding compliantly at his opinions.
Veshar, on the other hand, was nothing but cruel to Sneed. He made sure that Sneed only got the hardest parts of the trail-loaf for breakfast, and the slimiest most shriveled end of the turnip for supper. Veshar was constantly firing insults at Sneed, and for the past two nights had forced the rat to cover both of their shifts as lookout, causing him to be tired and sluggish for this final leg of the journey. Sneed was slowing them down, and more than once stumbled and nearly fell. Finally, about three miles from reaching the hills, Veshar had made him walk at the front of the line, kicking him periodically to keep him on his toes.
They walked in this manner for the remainder of their journey, and arrived at the foot of the charnel hills just as the sun was dipping behind their bleached and broken tops. They found themselves at the foot of the dusty path that ran through the center of the hills, emerging on the other side at the shores of the western sea. Sathek drew them to a halt, then reached into his pack and retrieved the map that the general had given him upon their departure. He eyed it carefully, the sloppy red ink forming a mental picture of where they should go.
“About three or four miles down this path we’ll come to a narrow canyon” he said “at the mouth of the canyon we are to leave the path and follow its right ridge until we come across a large white rock. This rock will be the firsst in a series that lead to the entrance of the cave.”
“Sseems simple enough” added Veshar “Think you’ll be able to make it that far vermin?” he asked Sneed.
“I hope so” replied the exhausted ratonga “I can’t wait to see what kind of things we find in that cave,”
Veshar burst into laughter at this, and for a second Sathek thought of smashing his friend’s teeth out in order to shut him up. Sneed looked worried at how funny Veshar found his comment, but then just laughed sheepishly and shrugged it off as no more than an iksar eccentricity. Sathek felt lower than a snake’s belly.
The walk to the mouth of the canyon took no longer than an hour and before nightfall they had traversed the ridge and located the white rock. It would have been hard to miss, it was about half a dwarf in height and as white as a hares tail. They took a brief rest at the stone, and had a meager supper of the last few turnips, and some trail bread. The next rock wasn’t as easily located as the first, it took some looking before Sathek finally found it, partially obscured by scrub oak and leading them northward. The rest of the path was easily predicted once they knew which way they were headed and what they were looking for, and Sathek began wondering how he could have missed such an obvious trail in his previous treks through these hills.
They followed the stones through the hills for hours, ascending and descending as the stark, boney countryside dictated. Finally, as night was falling, the cliff rose up in front of them. The cliff face was three hundred feet high if it was an inch, it glittered hypnotically in the moonlight, and the instant they saw it, all three of them were certain that it was what they were looking for. After climbing over a few more hills the three travelers found themselves staring up at the sheer white cliff, ancient yet immaculate, and ever vigilant in its protection of the evil that haunted its roots.
They began walking westward along the foot of the cliff, which was littered with huge limestone boulders. They went to great pains to inspect any boulder that could possibly be considered discolored, but when they finally found what it was they were looking for it was obvious that such careful scrutiny was unnecessary.
The boulder was a dark amber stud on the vast white plain that was the cliff face. The boulder’s condition belied its age; it was smooth and shiny and, despite the huge crack that ran down its center, was as solid as a giant’s fist. Sathek went straight to the surrounding rock wall and began searching for the keyhole. Sneed sat down and began rooting through his pack for something to eat, but Veshar snatched him up by the nape of his neck and thrust him into the cliff face. “Nobody rests until we find that keyhole” he snapped, and proceeded to inspect the cliff face. Sneed waited until Veshar wasn’t looking then put his thumbs in his ear’s and stuck his tongue out at the iksar’s back. Sathek saw this and let out a little chuckle, to which Sneed responded with a sly smirk.
It was Sneed who found the keyhole first. It was located in the cliff face just to the lower left of the boulder. “Found it!” he chirped, and immediately plopped down on the nearest stone and drew a good piece of trail bread from the ration sack. “Dumb luck” said Veshar, obviously insulted that the ratonga had succeeded where he had failed. He sat down across from Sneed and bit spitefully into a sub par piece of trail bread. Sathek took his bread standing up, inspecting the keyhole.
Once they had rested up, and taken some bread and water Veshar and Sneed got up and gathered around Sathek, who was still peering into the keyhole. They stood in silence for what seemed like hours, the only sound for miles being that of the sour wind sighing in the dry grass and scrub oak of the Charnel Hills, stoking their fears and planting the seeds of doubt in their minds. Finally Sathek reached into his pack and produced the bone key that the general had given him, it glistened yellow in the moonlight. “Alright” he said “I’m going to open it. Be prepared, and whatever happens stand your ground.” They grabbed the hilts of their respective weapons, and held their breath, as Sathek leaned forward and inserted the slender, yellow key into the tiny hole in the archaic rock wall.
|
