* * * * *
Kalder leads the hearty men through the lush dense jungle forest. There is very little wildlife, and the forest is devoid of most insects that inhabit the other tropical parts of Kalda. The silence of the uninhabited forces puts them on edge.
Their pace is slow, and the heat of the day slowly wears on the men clearing the path. An hour after leaving the shore, they have only traveled three grand phineals; the sum of one thousand phineals, abbreviated on signs or in conversation as “G.P.”
On the far left of Kalder, one of the younger warriors cuts the vegetation with swift strokes, exaggerating the blows in an effort to cut through cleanly. With his next stroke, he swings his sword and impacts the blade against one of the larger tropical trees. The blade quickly recoils back toward Nordal, who is on the other side of him; sounding off a resonating, high-pitch clang.
The young warrior quickly stops his blade from cutting into his companion. Intrigued, he stops and looks at the tree that forcefully repelled his blade. The bark’s surface shows a single cut, and the warrior turns to examine the trunk.
“Watch where you swing that thing, Hemrin,” Nordal says jovially, glancing to the younger man. “Now, what was that sound?”
The other members of Iltar’s expedition stop and edge closer, curiously; the tang of Hemrin’s blade had also alerted them to the strange discovery.
“Do that again,” Cornar urges seriously as he walks up the path, pushing his way through the mages and thieves in front of him.
Hemrin strikes the tree again, slightly higher than the initial gash. As he controls the recoiling blade, a second cut appears in the bark, slightly delayed. Cornar notices the odd reaction and folds his arms.
“That sounds like stone,” Kalder observes from the head of the party.
“It does,” Cornar’s eyes narrow in suspicion.
Iltar steps forward and peers over Cornar’s shoulder.
“Hagen,” Iltar turns to the short illusionist. “Cast some dispelling magic.”
Clearing his throat, Hagen moves toward the mysterious tree; once near it, he scoops his hand in the air in a circular motion. He utters the words of a greater dispelling magic, and white particles cluster in his palm. As he finishes the incantation, the illusionist raises his hand above his head and extends it toward the mysterious tree.
As the white magic touches the bark the tree twists and contorts, shifting unnaturally until it vanishes. In its place stands a tall, pale gray, stone-like pylon, a phineal taller than most of the men’s’ heads.
Iltar moves around Cornar, stepping toward the newly discovered relic, and Hemrin cautiously backs away as Iltar approaches; the necromancer’s dreadful reputation was enough to cause most men to stay at arm’s length.
Standing in front of the pylon, Iltar brushes his hand against the gray surface, which is cool to the touch. Several gems are inlayed around the mid-section of the southern face. A familiar writing is also etched into the surface above each of the gems, and the letters glow with a faint blue hew.
“Elvish…” the word quietly leaves Iltar’s lips.
“Puzzling,” Iltar mutters with intrigue then thinks. Without my elvish translation texts it will be hard to accurately understand this correctly…
The necromancer strokes his facial hair then mutters, “Ecadu Rin Talim. That might be it.”
“Might?!” Tilthan cries out from the rear of the crowd, “You better be sure!”
Hearing the outburst, Cornar glares over his shoulder at Tilthan in annoyance.
Meanwhile, Iltar furrows his brow as he examines the rest of the texts. He hesitantly reaches forward to the gem on the right, a golden orange color, and presses against it. The gem silently depresses, and the scene around the expedition suddenly transforms.
Beneath Kalder and the other four leading warriors’ feet, the ground shifts in shape. Some of the debris they cut through and tossed aside vanishes, clearly part of the illusion that had just been disabled. The ground also gives way, causing the men to fall and lose their footing. What had once been full of dirt and tropical weeds was now a pale gray, stone-like surface. The vegetation around the edge of the stone-like substance is repelled, shown by the plants and their extremities leaning away from it.
The pylon the stone-like path spreads east and west of the pylon, with identical pylons marking the way about every twenty phineals; the path eventually turning northwest. Between each of the pylons are solid rectangular sections of the gray stone-like material.
“I wonder what other surprises we’ll encounter,” Cornar remarks.
Ignoring the shared shock, Iltar looks west. His eyes narrow and he steps forward, pushing his way past the warriors in the middle of the ancient elven roadway. As Iltar presses forward, Kalder with Cornar follow close behind. The other seventeen members of the party step onto the stone mystery and slowly, while admiring the elven path, follow Iltar and the two other men of war.
Ahead and out of earshot of the rest of the expedition, Cornar comments on the twist of events, “Don’t you find it strange that this path exists, Iltar? It looks like it was only constructed days ago…”
“The elven scrolls were meant as a guide to restore the amulet, not hide it,” the necromancer reminds his friend, still hurrying along the path. “The elves must have put this here for easy access to the tunnel through the mountains. When they did it, though, I don’t know, since the scrolls were written a thousand years ago.” Iltar points to the ground. “Look at the plants…”
After briskly following the path for the space of an hour and a half, the three leading men emerge from the dense trees onto a large plain that stretches out before them. In the distance, the mountains run east to west, stretching across the plain in either direction.
Once everyone emerges from the forest, the group stops at the woodland’s edge to eat a small lunch of cold food.
While the rest are eating, Iltar rechecks the map against the landscape before him: the towering gray-white mountains in the distance spread in both directions, as per the map.
Iltar glances back to the path, which ends exactly on the tree line. How could I envision that path? It can’t be coincidence. Before consulting the map he shakes his head, then discreetly walks to Cornar, who is sitting with the rest of his men along the tree line.
“I’m not sure where we are on this map,” Iltar says quietly as he crouches with a sigh. “Nor where the cave might be… Although something inside me says the path is the key.”
“It could be,” Cornar nods his head. “I say we keep our heading in line with the path’s end. Perhaps it’ll get us close to the cave. If not it’ll we’ll at least have had a good start. Let me see the map.” The warrior reaches out and grabs the unrolled parchment from the necromancer. After a moment of study, Cornar continues his speculation.
“If this map is drawn to scale, then judging from the distance we’ve traveled so far and the distance across the plain, we have another half day’s journey ahead of us.”
“Yes, it looks that way doesn’t it?” Iltar says, looking over the map with Cornar. “What do you think? Stay here in the shelter of the trees, and send scouts throughout the afternoon?”
“We still have some time before dark. The sky is clear and there was one full moon last night. Hopefully tonight will be clear and we should be able to see during the night. I wonder…”
“Spit it out man!”
“Okay…” Cornar smiles. “We should rest here until dark. Rotate guards and have everyone else sleep. Get up after dark and cross the plain at night. There should be enough moonlight to make the plain visible and illuminate the mountains so we don’t get turned around. I don’t like to move over an open plain in broad daylight, especially if there’s any possibility of dragons watching the plain from the mountains. Our clothing is dark enough that we won’t be easily seen at night. Once we reach the foothills we can rest until morning.”
/> “Now, that sounds like a good idea. I’ll let the others know.” Iltar stands so that the rest of the expedition can see him.
“Everyone listen! Cornar has suggested a plan for proceeding further, and I agree. We will sleep here the rest of the day and cross the plain at night. We’ll rotate guards two at a time, for three hour shifts.”
There are nods and grunts to Iltar’s announcement, and the majority of the expedition soon finish their cold meal. Afterward, Cornar’s men clear areas in the dense forest edge on either side of the elven pathway for shelter. Due to the small size and number of pockets of leveled land, the camp spreads across the tree line. Cornar and Kalder both volunteer to take the first watch.
Within a matter of minutes most of the expedition is fast asleep. The early start with the salcions, the fighting through the brush, and the change in weather is enough to sap the strength of the mages and some of the warriors. However, Tilthan and his fellow thieves are enjoying a game of chance instead of sleeping. Their light laughter is heard by the two warriors sitting as sentinels near the pylon marking the elven pathway.
Kalder and Cornar sit quietly, each lost in thought. They stare into the distance as if gazing through the mountains and envisioning what is beyond them.