Godim staggered over to the moss covered boulder and collapsed upon it, his weary feet unable to carry him any furthur. With heavy wheezes, he yanked off his leather boots and began massaging his old toes, a soothing look soon crossing his face as his breathing steadied.
" You know, " he commented idly as the others caught up, " I'd gladly swap all the True in my bank, all the spell's Ive learnt, and everything in my pack for a five minute foot massage from some Elven lady."
Narnublat, catching up to the old mage, grunted saying " I'd swap "you" for an elven lady."
Godim frowned slightly, then chuckled. " True, true"
Narnublat, the Half-Orc, must have stood almost a foot higher than the old mage, his dark muscles apparent under the stinking mismatch of leathers and furs that clung to him. His red tinged eyes seemed to burn into you whenever his gaze passed, and it seemed the man was bereft of any form of manners.
Although Godim, splendid in his carefully cleaned blue robes, long pointy hat and thick beard, seemed to leap out at you, like a figure you might recall from some old tales of Great wizards and warriors. He looked up at the half orc with clear, piercing eyes.....and the two seemed almost equal in size.
" Bloody fools." Sallaron chuckled, overhearing. " If that were possible, neither of you would be here right now....and I'd have myself a whole troupe of Elven women at my beck and call. 'More wine Mr. Tempest' they'd say," he began mimicking a high pitched elven voice, " 'More roasted deer Mr. Tempest......Would you like a foot massage Mr. Tempest..."
The others grinned, collapsing around the boulder where Godim sat and pulling food and drink from their packs, eating it absently whilst catching their breath.
" Bah.....I'd trade you all for a decent guide around here." Roy muttered, glancing about.
Everyone suddenly glanced up at each other, frowning at Roy's meaning. With sudden realisation dawning on them, they slowly turned to look at Sallaron. He glanced back at them, an almost comic look of innocence on his face as he chewed his food.
" What?" he mumbled, mouth full. " Don't look at me....I've been following Roy."
A long groan escaped the group. Godim chuckled and Narnublat growled slightly.
" We've been following you Sal. You were infront. " Roy said softly.
Sallaron coughed out a bit of food in surprise " Me? What in the hells you following me for? I don't know my way around here! You know I always end up lost! I thought it was the right way cause no one said anything!"
They had been hiking for two days.....having crossed the Berhagen mountains on their way to the Dwarven fortress, Roy had stumbled upon the entrance to a valley neither knew existed. It only seemed a small cave at the base of the Impassable, a wide mountain range in the Berhagens which, as the title suggests, is impassable. Any map-reader could tell you that few, if any, had bothered climbing over the range, since the same mountains could be seen blocking the shoreline furthur south, and it seemed unlikely anything of interest could be inbetween.
But peering into the small cave, Roy said he could smell grass and blossoming heather, to which Narnublat had laughed, commenting it may have been falling from his head. Mildly hurt, Roy climbed in and began crawling his way through the narrow tunnel, the others grumbling as they followed.
It seemed to continue on for miles in the darkness, snaking up and down, left and right, and several times Godim demanded they turn back, till at last, they caught sight of light ahead and could smell fresh grass and pollen in the air. Clambering out the other side with minor scratches, they glanced about in awe.
Rolling hills stretched far south to another mountain range, and here and there could be seen small woods dotted about, with wildlife seemingly free and unhindered. The entire valley seemed seated in a sloping basin in the mountains, likely some several hundred feet above sea level, and totally isolated by the wall of mountains around it. Several rivers and streams could be seen winding their way down the mountains and into a central reservation in the middle of the valley.
Upon climbing down the mountain, they immediately stumbled upon a herd of deer which darted at the intrusion. A second later, and one of Roy's arrows had brought one down, and they spent the remainder of the day eating cooked deer, drinking Godim's ales and celebrating their discovery. Waking the next morning with a terrible hangover, they began trekking across the valley, a few consumed with their own headache. No one, it had seemed, payed much attention to who they were following.
" Well, " said Roy, clambering to his feet and peering back the way they came, " I can still make out where we camped last night. The crawl back through the mountain shouldn't be too tough. So we know the way out if needed."
" What?" Narnublat snarled, clambering up. Godim immediately leant back, his face scrunching as the Half-Orcs odour hit him.
" Aren't we like....supposed to be Explorers or something? Huh? We scared of wandering too far?" His face curled with obvious sarcasm, obviously baiting someone to back out.
Sallaron didn't fall for it.
" As I recall....the last time we "wandered too far"....we had a bloody horde of harpies trying to peck out eyes out and sing us to death. I'm not sure if you remember how "that" went." he chuckled, remembering the Half-Orc being the first to turn and flee.
Narnublat said nothing, but lay himself out on the grass, hands clasped together on his chest.
Godim rummaged in his pack a moment, glanced at a scroll he retrieved, then glanced meaningfully at Sallaron with a slight grin.
" Well, " the old mage began, handing the scroll to Sal, "we've still provisions for many days travel even if we don't fell another deer. I for one would like to explore furthur."
Sallaron rolled out the scroll, glanced at it a moment, then glanced back at Godim.
" It's not on here is it?" he asked.
Godim shook his head, smiling.
" What's not on it?" Narnublat asked lazily.
Roy grabbed the scroll eagerly and looked for himself, and wide grin breaking his lips. Narnublat noticed.
" What's not on it?" he asked again, his interest touched.
" This valley Narn, " Roy said, tossing the scroll to the Half-Orc. He rolled it out and realised it was a map of the area, and began scanning where they should have been. His brow furrowed.
" This Valley's not on the map. It's possible no one has been here for a long time......if at all."
Narn's grin suddenly reflected the rests.
" Well," he growled cheerfully, " lets be off then! Who know's what we'll find out here."
The others nodded, shouldering their packs and moving on, preparing to descend the hill they had scaled. Roy rushed forward, a hand on Sallaron's shoulder who had already started descending.
" I'll lead." he grinned, pushing past him.
Sallaron shrugged, " Fine then. But it's gonna be hard "not" to get lost when you don't know where you are anyway."
They continued at a leisurely pace that day, slowly making their way up and down the hills to the central lake, which shimmered slightly despite the darkened and cloudy sky. Narnublat ended up being sent to the back, the mixture of deer meat and ale doing terrible things to his bowels, and Godim could stand the smell no longer.
Sallaron wandered along, looking about the high rising peaks, bumping into Roy occasionally when he stopped to get his bearings. Roy was in full woodslore mode, checking tracks on the ground, smelling the wind and watching the movements of any wildlife they passed. He stopped to frown and "Hmmm" often, but continued on wordlessly.
Clambering down the last hill, they found the lake was situated in a furthur basin, and must have been at least two miles across, and some four in width. They found little woodland around the lake, although they did find some felled trees, which Roy hurried to examine.
" Chopped down. Sharp cuts too. Then they were dragged, " he began, feeling around the grass beneath the stumps, and then pointed to the lake. " That way."
"Oh, " Sallaron muttered, sounding rather dissapointed. " So this valley isn't undiscovered. Smuggler's perhaps? Folks building their own little society?"
Narnublat laughed. " Long bloody way to smuggle something aint it. And why live here....cut off from everywhere."
Roy was heading for the lake, seemingly following some invisible path laid out infront of him, and the others followed. As they approached, a small patch of burnt earth became visible, distinct against the lush surroundings. Burnt logs and debris were stacked in the centre, the remnants of a fire, and Roy kicked a log over, feeling the embers beneath it.
" Still warm, " he muttered, "very warm. Likely from last night."
" Last night? Wouldn't we have seen it from our vantage up there. " Sallaron asked.
Roy shook his head, indicating the hills above and the slow incline into the basin.
" The lakes in a dip, from up there..." he pointed roughly to where they camped the night before, " the hills would have blocked our view of this shore."
" Human made? Or....other?" Godim asked, glancing about nervously.
Roy shrugged, " Hard to tell, but the tracks lead off that way.", he pointed over to the base of one of the mountains that loomed nearest.
They followed the tracks to the base of the mountain, leaving the grass plains for the rough terrain, clambering over boulders and out-croppings. A cave came into view, some ten feet high and eight wide, with pure darkness inside.
They were about to venture furthur when Sallaron stopped them, a frown on his face, his gaze drawn by something to the left of them. He could only make out a brownish blur against the grey rocks, and wandered over to look.
The others stopped to wait for him, but then caught sight of the same thing and slowly made there way over. As they approached, they saw Sallaron examine the thing, then take a step back, glancing about warily.
Godim must have had a thought, and fear crept through his old bones, nearly choking him. He dashed over, suddenly nimble and full of strength, only to slump infront of the thing as though drained.
With a shaking hand, he reached out and grasped a tentacle like thing, slimy to the touch, and moved it into everyones view.
A single, closed eye perched on the end of the stalk.
No one needed an explanation.
The Beholder had been dead only a short time, its huge mass mainly hidden by the boulders. As well as several burn marks,from it's still slimy body stuck several arrows, which Roy yanked free and examined.
" It's sharp.....not Iron...." he said, turning the arrow over and over, tapping the tip with his finger. He glanced about the floor around the Beholder.
" Lots of tracks here....seems the thing was attacked by people....light footed..."
Godim cursed, clambering to his feet. His gaze tunred to the cave not far off, as though his gaze could penetrate the darkness. When he next spoke, his voice sounded distant, on edge.
" We should leave here quickly." he said.
Suddenly, with a bellowed cry, he threw himself to the floor. Shocked into action, Roy and Narnublat dived to the floor after him, but Sallaron was too slow, looking about in confusion for a moment.
A whizz filled the air, and Sallaron gasped, dropping to his knees. An arrow stuck in his chainmail, black feathered, dark wood and black metalled.....same as in the beholder. He yanked it free, smothering a cry of pain as he did, and ducked furthur behind the boulder.
Sounds filled the air. Whizz! Clang. Whizz! Clang. As a rain of arrows flew past their heads or struck the rocks around them.
" What the!!!" Roy shouted, climbing over a prostate Narnublat to get a better view over the boulder, the Half-Orc gasping and cursing as Roy stood on fingers and elbowed him away to see better. He poked his head out slightly, spotting several dark shapes in the cave entrance. They darted out, took a shot, and dissapeared back inside, only to be replaced by another, taking care to keep out the light.
" Drow! " Godim gasped, back to the boulder, pulling off his hat for fear of an arrow piercing it.
" Drow! " Narnublat roared, " Here! In daylight! Why?!"
Arrows continued raining around them, bouncing off rocks and imbedding in patches of soft earth around them.
" Training grounds. Cut off from civilisation. This is their own personal Topside."
Sallaron fidgeted, checking his wound. The arrow had pierced him, but it was a small wound. He kept his back to the boulder, glancing about for furthur cover, thinking rapidly.
" We can't stay here! If we get penned in, either they'll finish us off with arrows....or come nightfall....they'll hunt us down!"
Roy cursed as an arrow bounced off the boulder and ricocheted across his face, leaving a cut.
" This is what happens when we wander to far!!" he hissed.
They each glanced at each other, each reading the silent message, grim realisation setting in,and ducked low as the Drow continued firing arrows, pinning them to the spot.
( Thats it for now.)
