Points of Peril (11 Jul 2002) Our heroes continue their journey Westward.

The morning brought farewells as the travelers prepared to depart, and Hannah went her separate way. The people of Caer Sidi offered as many supplies and trinkets as the travelers would take, but alas, little of what was offered could be taken lest they need to take a wagon to carry it all. Hassan and Oberia were heard debating the fate of their captured erstwhile rulers from the Water Mages with the townsfolk as they left; they were split between putting them to work as slaves, or sending them all on to Mirari under care of an armed caravan to have them face High Justice.

Leaving Caer Sidi, the travelers headed west across the wastelands of Annwn beneath heavy gray clouds that promised sleet ... and delivered it they did. Freezing rain mixed with peppercorn-sized hail made them grateful for their cloaks as they rode down a caravan trail toward the place marked on their map as the Point of Peril.

Point of Peril
There are trees here, massive and sinisterly looming things weighed down by snow upon their branches, and there are unseen things moving about in the woods. The Dragonspine Mountains rise slowly over the treetops, stony spines raking across the sky.

The dark woods of the Point of Peril open up here, revealing the mountains stretching from one end of the world to the other. Ahead is the Bridge of Sorrows, a monstrously huge stone bridge weathered by thousands of Years. The Way of Dwarves begins here as well, made of hundreds of thousands of interlocking stone blocks that remain miraculously well preserved despite the shallow lines eroded by successions of heavily-loaded wagons. Robed in ice, it looks like a fairy tale edifice of crystal.

There are monsters in the woods, but so far they have not yet chosen to make their presence known, save by the chattering of things deep behind the snow-blanketed undergrowth and by distant shadows with too many legs passing between the trees.

Thomas has been riding slightly ahead of the others, attention focused on observing the surrounding lands. As they draw nearer to their destination, he watches the shadows of the trees more closely, for unnatural movement. He pays even more attention to the path they ride, examining the snow drifts with a careful eye, in case others have come this way recently.

The leaner looking and newly freckle-free Redmane eyes the bridge with suspicion as well, wondering what may lie in wait on the far side -- and the near side as well, for that matter.

Sir Lefallon, on horseback, marvels at the bridge, raising a gloved hand over his eyes to better see. "This is incredible! It must have taken many Years for this bridge to be built." More soberly, he adds, "I hope that the Years since have not robbed it of its strength. It looks quite strong from here, but that's not to say what it will when we're actually on it."

Thomas raises his hand to indicate halt, then dismounts. He walks forward a few feet, then crouches down in a predatory stance and dusts his hand over the snow, then pressed it down firmly. His expression grows grim.

The young knight reins his horse in. "What's wrong, Lord Explorer?"

Rachel smiles briefly at Simon's enthusiasm, her hands folded on the pommel of her saddle. At Tom's sudden halt and dismount, her expression turns grave, too.

Redmane keeps scanning the tree line while listening for Thomas's report.

"A large force has come this way fairly recently. Less than a month, I'd wager," Thomas answers. "That should at least answer whether or not the bridge is stable ... but. Hmm. Perhaps not. I'm going over the bridge edge and check the supports in case the sabotaged them after passing."

Sir Lefallon peers at the bridge thoughtfully. "All right, milord. How are you going to do it?"

Thomas heads back to his horse and retrieves his rope bundle. He takes a moment to select a sturdy tree and starts tying one end of the rope to it. "Have you ever done a rappel, Sir Lefallon? The idea is pretty simple, secure the rope on one end, wrap the other around yourself. You then relax your grip on the loose end and let it slide, lowering you some," Thomas explains.

Ahearn snorts, and paces along the width of the road, making it easier for Redmane to scan before and behind them ... which seems to be what the lord of horses is doing himself. His ears are flattened against his head in protection from the miserable sleet.

"Anything could be hiding in this weather," Redmane grumbles. "We can't even see the far side of the bridge, and the ice will keep us from making speed if we need to."

"Can't say as I have," the young knight says. He dismounts and inspects the arrangement. "I'll stay up here and guard, milord."

"One of us could always go alone to the other side to make sure it's clear," Thomas says as he unrolls the coil of rope and walks out a short ways onto the bridge. Quickly, he wraps the rope behind his body, then climbs up onto the railing, hooking the rope around one of the stone outcroppings. "Into the abyss!" Thomas declares, then goes over the edge.

It won't keep me from making speed, Ahearn remarks in an aside to Redmane. Indeed, his footing has been as stable over the slick path coated in ice and slush as it was in the dry streets of Caer Sidi.

"I know, Ahearn, but the other horses don't have your footing," Redmane says. Overhearing Thomas's comment about someone going alone, she snorts. She's not about to let anyone be separated under these conditions.

Despite the slipperiness of the ice, Thomas is able to rappel swiftly down the side of the chasm. His view is at first restricted to the massive side of the bridge, carved by patient hands into historical scenes of tiny men armed with axes and shields in front of mountains, or swinging pickaxes as they delve deep into them, or forging swords... Then the columns begin to come slowly into view, huge statues of robed people built of many smaller blocks stacked one on another, fitted together without mortar. It does not seem possible for any normal force to shatter such massive supports...

Thomas stops his descent and hands there for a time, occasionally adjusting his angle of view. "Looks stable so far," Thomas calls back up. "I'm going to heard further down, just in case."

The explorer passes the lower edge of the carvings. Here, the rocks of the chasm have been carved into a support for the bridge, rising up to meet the stone blocks that make up the underbed. This protuberance blocks the view of the underside of the bridge... But something makes him pause before continuing on, where he could see it. Something is breathing. Something large, clinging to the bridge's support here.

Ahearn appears the share his rider's mind on the subject of both the other horses, and of sending a lone scout, but he adds no other comments. He stops his pacing, flicking his ears up to listen.

Tom fiddles with the rope, and tries to get it swinging a bit to see if he can get a closer view of whatever that is.

"Can you still see Thomas, Sir Lefallon?" Redmane asks the knight when her patrol brings her closer to that edge of the bridge.

"Nay," the younger knight answers. "I'm standing guard here, so nothing touches the rope. I'd hate to see our old friend finding his support gone, ah?" He grins wryly to the senior knight.

As Thomas pushes off against the side of the chasm, he swings out to see ... a giant leathery black winged thing curved against the side of the bridge, draconic head pressed up against the stone as if ... listening. He swings back inward, out of its sight, but just then, some pebbles dislodged when he leaped off first strike a lower protrusion.

A black taloned paw lunges outward from the side of the cliff, grabbing for the explorer.

Thomas erks, and lets the rope loose quickly, to allow himself to drop lower ... quickly!

The taloned paw bites into the stone with an audible crunch, narrowly missing the wildly swinging rope as the explorer drops quickly. The black wyvern, a quarter the size of a dragon like Monitor, scrambles out onto the support to peer down at the toothsome morsel it has trapped. Breath hisses through its throat as it gape-grins.

"Nice Lizard," Thomas mutters with a grin, "Go back to sleep, eh?" He starts looking for outcroppings or a location to swing to so he can start climbing back up.

Deciding that it's better to not be bait on a line, Thomas rapidly descends on the rope to the ledge below.

"What was that?" Redmane asks out loud at the sounds rising up from under the bridge, and guides Ahearn back to the edge to see if the rope is holding steady or moving around.

The wyvern crouches, haunches gathered cat-like, as its neck snakes about to regard Thomas, giant bat-wings folded in against its side. It prepares to pounce....

Sir Lefallon draws his sword as he follows. "I don't know, but it sounds like trouble!"

The white stallion hardly needs Agatha's encouragement. In moments, the two of them are overlooking the edge. The rope wiggles against the cliff's edge, in response to the motions of the swinging man below.

Thomas draws his sword and tightens his grip around the handle. His eyes narrow as he observes the Wyvern about to pounce. "Now, if I move quickly to the side the moment it pounces ... it might run into the wall and daze itself, giving me time to get out of here," he thinks.

Rachel readies her crossbow, nudging her own mount to the edge, though True's pace is more sedate and cautious than Ahearn's.

At that very moment, the wyvern leaps, swift as a black lightning bolt, and true to his thought, the explorer darts out of the way, causing the wyvern's strike to hit the packed snow. It scrabbles, and almost comically claws at the chasm wall as the force of its attack carries it down ... but split seconds later, Thomas hears the audible snap of air filling sail-like wings as the wyvern pulls out of its dive.

Sir Lefallon gasps. "Lords and Ladies! Tom, grab the rope, we'll pull you up!" He reaches out for the knotted rope.

"Is he still tied to it?" Redmane asks, and begins to unlimber her lance from it's sling.

Thomas grins, then decides a rope ride up is better than a wyvern ride up. He runs over to the rope and grabs hold tightly. "Make it fast!" he shouts. "There's one angry wyvern down here!"

Sir Lefallon sheathes his sword and begins pulling on the rope ... though his strength is not great enough to make it very quick going.

Thomas makes sure his sword is firmly in its sheath, then starts trying to climb the rope as Sir Lefallon pulls on it, trying to double his pace upward.

The wyvern's screech must be audible for miles around, as it wings across the chasm and comes around. Flicking a forked tongue, it soars into the air, surveying its targets.

Rachel swings down from True, and drops her crossbow into the snow to help young knight pull on the rope. She tries to drag it to True's pommel. "The horse can pull faster than either of us," she tells Sir Lefallon.

"A wyvern!" Redmane growls, and raises her lance in expectation of an aerial attack. "I'll try to keep it at bay, but you'd do best to head for the tree line as soon as Thomas is secure!"

Sir Lefallon loses his grip for a short time, sending Tom flailing down ten feet, then grits his teeth as he digs his hands into the rope, long enough for Rachel to grasp it. "Hurry!" the young knight shouts. "I can't hold it for long!" With gritted teeth, the explorer is able to scramble up, making up the distance lost.

Just at that moment, however, there's a hissing noise from behind, as if a teakettle had gone to boil, and a black movement toward the bridge from the forest. It seems at first as if the Point of Peril had come alive and was marching on them, but then the separate limbs resolve themselves into ... spider legs! Immense spiders are crawling out of the woods, about the speed of a man walking. There is perhaps a minute or so before they will close in on the travelers' position.

"You know, it is a long way down. I'd rather not see up close and personal," Thomas shouts up, as he climbs. "If you can't pull, just let me climb! Jittering the rope will only slow me down!"

The wyvern swoops down toward Ahearn and Redmane, and sparks of something bright glitter in its gaping throat.

Swinging the lance to bear on the wyvern, Redmane urges Ahearn to charge forward towards it -- both to add thrust to the lance-strike, and to get under the monsters firing arc.

"I thought I heard spiders up there! Redmane, we may be able to kill two problems with one stone, as it were! Lure the Wyvern into swooping toward the spiders! They might attack each other, or the wyvern flame may deal with the spiders for us!" Thomas cries out.

Together, Simon and Rachel -- ignoring Tom's complaints -- manage to hook the rope to the pommel of her steed. After a slap on the flank, True surges forward, easily bearing the explorer back to the top of the cliff. The rough hauling leaves Thomas bruised and battered, but intact. At least it's safer than dangling at the end of a rope with a wyvern eyeing him like a cat with a new toy.

Hearing the suggestion, Redmane pulls short her charge, and turns towards the spiders in an attempt to lure the wyvern in that direction.

"I know what a worm on a hook feels like," Thomas says, with a pant and a grin. He takes a moment to catch his breath then gets back to his feet and draws his sword. He looks around the scenes and says to Rachel and Sir Lefallon, "Boy, this went bad quickly, eh?"

The wyvern tracks Redmane as she races on Ahearn's back toward the spiders, who scuttle forward with malevolent eagerness... And then at the last moment, just as the wyvern opens its jaws wide to belch forth a pungent cloud of flame, in a move that would be impossible for any normal horse, the Lord of Horses turns, driving hooves deep into the ice and sending up flying sparks of crystalline light, and lunges back the way they came. There is a nightmarish chorus of wails and hisses as many of the spiders burn...

Sir Lefallon lets go of the rope and blows on his stinging hands, then draws his sword. "You said it, milord! I'm for running across the bridge as quickly as we can, I don't think these spiders are going to stop for tea with us."

Thomas cheers! "And that's how you deal with those nasty things," Thomas declares. His expressions shifts to serious. "Agreed," he says to Sir Lefallon and runs as far as he dares to cut free his rope and starts coiling it back up quickly. "Everyone, let's look for shelter on the other side!"

Rachel shakes her head. After helping Tom to his feet, she whistles for his mare. The horses are anxious and uneasy from the fire, but the presence of Ahearn has a soothing effect on the animals, keeping them from panicking outright. The girl remounts, urging the others to do the same.

Thomas secures his rope back on the side of the saddle and remounts. "Okay," he says to Pearl, "Lets get across this bridge as fast as we can safely."

"I'll cover the rear," Redmane shouts. "The wyvern will have to climb up past the trees before it can turn to attack again, I think."

The younger knight races for his horse, sheathing his sword and grabbing on with both hands to pull himself up into the saddle. "Come on, Tria!" he yells to her. "Let's go!"

The wyvern climbs upward, shrieking angrily. The spiders have been fortunately distracted for a moment by their heavy losses, chittering and chattering to one another, but it doesn't take long before they begin to advance again.

Lowering her lance and sweeping it back and forth, Redmane tries to keep the spiders at bay until the others can get clear. Luckily, Ahearn doesn't have any trouble walking backwards.

"Onward!" Thomas shouts, green eyes glinting and wild. And with that, he urges Pearl forward and begins crossing the bridge.

The black dragon-like lizard folds its wings as it dives downward again, then snaps them out to glide straight forward at the lady knight. Its talons are forward, curled claws spread wide.

Sir Lefallon gallops after Thomas, holding onto the reins with both hands as he tries to keep his mount from going wild off the side of the bridge or into another horse. "Lady Redmane!" he shouts back. "Don't sacrifice yourself -- we must all flee!"

"She'll be fine!" Thomas shouts. "Have faith in her!"

Raising the lance up to meet the wyvern's charge, Redmane calls back, "Rachel! Aim for the monster's mouth when it opens to strike!"

Rachel lifts her crossbow, and -- once again -- proves her unfitness to use the weapon. Her bolt misses by several yards. She looks so disgusted that she almost throws the crossbow away.

The wyvern easily dodges the bolt, dropping beneath it, then lunging upward at Redmane, claws striking outward-- but with equally swift reflexes, Redmane drives Ahearn forward, meeting its charge with a strike of the lance straight to the heart. In its death throes rake across her back, ripping her cloak to shreds . It wails like a locomotive venting steam fatally, reeling backward, pulling at her lance as if it would take its slayer's weapon with it.

With a grunt of effort, Redmane wrests her lance from the corpse of the wyvern, and quickly turns Ahearn about to flee down the bridge toward the others. She also leans forward slightly on Ahearn's neck to let the cold rain wash her scratches.

The spiders swarm onto the bridge after the travelers, a black tide washing over the end. They are slow but numerous, crawling over the smoldering corpses of their own and pouncing gluttonously upon the body of the fallen wyvern. Ahead lies the Way of Dwarves that snakes through the foothills of the Dragonspine ... and a decision.

The smoothly paved road leads toward Icejaw Pit, the ancestral home of a long-lost civilization, perhaps holding a secret entrance to the Destroyer's keep ... or a packed dirt road leads up into the winding route that serves as the main road to the fortress.

"I say we go to the pit. We can rest inside the entrance. I'd like to read over a book I've brought along and Rachel can look over your cuts, Redmane," Thomas says.

"Agreed," Redmane calls, looking over her shoulder to monitor the tide of spiders (since Ahearn is quite capable of steering himself).

Sir Lefallon yells ahead, "Lead on, milord! I don't want to try the front door, not with spiders on our back!"

Rachel glances at the explorer, eyeing his torn and dirtied clothing, and scratched face. She shakes her head again, then nods to the suggestions, setting True along the paved road.

"Onward, then, Pearl," Thomas says firmly and directs the horse towards the paved road and into whatever lies ahead.

The march of spiders has long disappeared from sight, though it's difficult to say if they will keep following the trail or not. The foothills of the Dragonspine rise up on both sides, frosted with snow much as layers of cakes would be, narrowing steadily. They meet the true mountainside here, at Icejaw Pit.

Icejaw Pit
It is at the end of the ancient stone road that Icejaw Pit greets the travelers, a massive stony maw gaping wide, with stairs almost invisible from this vantage point that wind around the side of the pit into the earth. The wide-open teeth have gained teeth of their own, icicles hanging thickly downward.

Thomas dismounts again and stands before the Icejaw Pit. "And now it gets dangerous," he says, the sides of his mouth curling into a slight grin. "I suggest we leave the horses out here. Ahearn can look after them," Thomas then adds and starts digging through his saddlebag to retrieve the book, the lantern, and magic rope and stuffs it into his travel pack.

"Now it gets dangerous?" echoes Sir Lefallon. "What do you call what we just went through at the Point of Peril?"

"Fun," Thomas answers simply. "Consider it a warm-up."

Ahearn shakes out his singed mane. Some of us got warmer than others.

Redmane frowns slightly at the suggestion of leaving the horses exposed. "I'd prefer to take them to the floor of the Pit at least," she voices, and dismounts Ahearn to check him over for any other injuries he may have gotten.

The younger knight buries his face in his hand, then pulls his gloved hand away quickly as he encounters the frost covering it, and shakes it off. "You are incorrigible, Lord Explorer," he says with a grin. "But I think we'd better take our horses with us if we don't want them to be spider-lunch."

"First floor, then," Thomas accepts, but then he glances at Sir Lefallon. "And have them become a nice dinner for the dragon, perhaps? Some of the passageways may be tight down there. They could get trapped -- or worse."

"What do you think, Ahearn?" Redmane asks her partner. "Should we just ask the horses what they want to do?"

We do not know how long we are going to be in the Pits, or the Keep, or even if we will return, Ahearn answers Redmane, soberly. The others will need to be able to forage for food and drink, if the worst comes to it. If the worse does not come, Pearl, Tria, and True will come to my call when we return. They will not like it within this place, I can assure you of that. Best to relieve them of their tack here, and let them loose for now.

Redmane nods, and goes to begin stripping the horses. She also notes to herself that Ahearn said we, so figures he intends to come along -- which is fine by her.

Sir Lefallon nods after a moment of thought on Ahearn's response, worry still evident on his face. "I hope they'll find nothing worse than having to brush snow off their next meal, Lord of Horses," he says, unpacking Tria's saddlebags into his own backpack.

Thomas considers that, then nods. He goes about unhooking the saddle from Pearl and says, "Thank you for the passage to this place, Pearl. I wish you well now, in case we do not return," he says. Shortly later, he's setting the saddle, saddle blanket, and emptied saddlebags safely tot he side.

Redmane says out loud, "Pack as much as you feel comfortable carrying, and we'll cache the rest." Since all of her own gear is already in her backpack, she starts looking for a good place to stash the rest.

"Simon, Rachel, I suggest taking a couple oil flasks each and one of you bring one of the sheets. They make good weapons and bandages, if nothing else," Thomas says as he finishes sorting his backpack and pulls out the book he wants to finish reading.

"Aye, milord," responds Sir Lefallon as he transfers things. He pauses as he fetches out a finely woodworked box, and then smiles as he sets that aside to be cached with the rest of their excess inventory.

Rachel selects a few sharp knives to cut the sheets apart, shaking her head. "Why is it we never think to buy bandages while we're in town? Do we think we are immortal?" As Redmane expected, after the other horses are dispersed, Ahearn remains, waiting to accompany the party down. He wrinkles his nose at the scent from the pit, but merely ducks his head as he follows them down.

"It's called 'roughing it'," Thomas replies lightheartedly.

"Because we expect our wounds to either be fatal or inconsequential, Rachel," Redmane jokes. She marks the location of the cache by planting her lance over it, hoping the iron will keep away anyone curious enough to investigate it.

"Why am I not reassured?" Rachel folds a blanket and a sheet into her pack, and shoulders it. "Lead on, immortal one," she finishes, gesturing to Tom. "Twenty Years old -- I suppose that's close enough."

"Are you counting the years he was missing though?" Redmane asks.

Thomas does an exaggerated bow and says, "As you wish, Milady." He turns, then down the stairs he goes.

The stairs descend into the almost familiar corridors of Icejaw Pit, that might have at one time been the home of a tiny civilization, but now hosts dangerous and wild things that skitter into the shadows away from the light. Squeaks and scrapes echo around the corners and in the far-off recesses of side passages. They are labyrinthine, and without expert guidance, one could get lost very quickly.

The bottom of the stairwell opens out into no less than seven passages, each framed by an arch carved with fanciful many-pointed stars, and boasts a high-arched ceiling surrounding the stairwell. The travelers' lights pick out gauzy spider webs in the spaces between the rafters.

"Any of these passages smell promising, Ahearn?" Redmane asks as she lights and passes out some of the torches she picked up at Caer Sidi.

Yes. The one we came in, Ahearn answers, dryly. This place is unspeakably foul.

"How are you holding up, Rachel?" Thomas inquires as he reaches the bottom and steps out in the center of the room to look around. "I don't know if you're used to doing this sort of thing."

Rachel chuckles. "I'm a Hawk, too, remember?" she says with a smile. "I'm accustomed to rough travel. Perhaps not quite this rough, but I am not a houseplant."

"You're getting ahead of us, Redmane. We're going to take a break here. I need to finish reading this evil little book," Thomas says, then adds jokingly, "If I suddenly become crazed, feel free to strike me down. You should like that, right, Redmane?" He then nods to Rachel and says, "Good."

Sir Lefallon looks upward to see how the sloping of the stairwell has managed to leave most of the snow coating the lower side of the shaft, rather than gathering into a heap at the center of the chamber, then down at the grate in the center that serves as a drain. "They built to last, those dwarves," he says thoughtfully, then turns to Thomas. "Eh? What book is that, milord?"

"No sense in waiting for dark to come," Redmane notes. "And I'll be happy to dry off a bit too," she adds, removing her cloak to examine the tears in it.

"Oh, some evil book of power that Faust had. He considered it pretty important," Thomas replies offhandedly and sits down with his back to the wall. "If any of you want to go scouting the passages, just stay within sight of all of us, okay? I'd recommend you just rest, though, and I'll try and determine which is the best passage."

Rachel sheds her own outer layers, including pulling off her boots and socks to dry, then goes to look at Redmane's injuries. "One of Faust's books?" she says to Tom.

"Did he? What is it about?" asks the younger boy. "Ways to terrorize mere mortals and extort money through diabolic spellcasting?"

"No, he referred to it in the last line of his journal. Called it The Dark Book," Thomas answers and starts looking through it again. "Ever since I skimmed it, it's been nagging at me to read more thoroughly."

Redmane sighs as she finds the cloak is irreparable, and says to Rachel, "You can cut this up for rags or bandages I guess. I have a spare shirt at least." She sits and leans forward so Rachel can examine the scrapes.

"It's the last thing he mentioned?" Rachel takes her knife to the cloak, starts to moisten it from a canteen. "I should boil this. Is it all right if I make a little fire?"

"I don't think a fire will make our situation any more dangerous," Redmane offers, and looks to Simon for his input.

"It was his promised reward from the Destroyer for his faithful service," Thomas answers and looks up momentarily. "Should be fine -- the smoke can easily flow out. Feel free to start a fire."

Sir Lefallon nods to Redmane. "Aye, milady. Want me to go back up for some wood?"

"Take Ahearn with you if you go, Sir Lefallon," Redmane says. "But hurry and I can make us some soup or stew. This will be our last chance to have a warm meal for who knows how long."

"Saints protect us, Redmane is going to cook," Thomas mutters, his expression not in the least bit serious however.

Redmane just grunts at Thomas.

The younger knight nods and sets his backpack down, then hurries upward. "Come on-- er, if you would be so kind, milord Ahearn," he says, looking apologetic toward the stallion. He heads up the stairs.

"Your language skills improve, I see," Thomas replies to the grunt, then grins.

"And you've learned to read," Redmane says. "I guess we're both still able to surprise each other," she adds with a grin.

"I are the edumucated one," Thomas quips and grins back.

Ahearn whuffles, and takes a break from hovering with ill-concealed anxiety over Redmane to join Sir Lefallon in fetching wood. Rachel starts a flame with a little tinder from her pack, soaked in oil, and puts a worn pot directly in the fire, filling it with water.

Redmane digs out the remaining bits of "fresh" rations to make into a stew, and joins Rachel at the fire. "I don't see how you've managed to put up with him for so long," she says to the other girl.

Tom just reads, ignoring the remark.

Rachel smiles. "You'd be surprised how pleasant he can be, when he wants to be," she answers. She drops the rags into the water to let them sterilize, too.

"Not that surprised," Redmane says, "but I've never known him to sustain his charm for very long."

Thomas almost says something, then just goes back to reading.

It is some time later that Sir Lefallon's footsteps and Ahearn's hooves can be heard on the rock stairs descending. The young knight has an armful of dead wood.

Thomas reads over this book, then blinks. He snaps it shut. "Redmane, may I ask a favor of you?" Thomas asks. "It may be dangerous, but I want to test something."

Redmane pauses en route to Simon, and asks, "What do you need, Thomas?"

"We're back! The horses aren't spider-lunch yet," Sir Lefallon calls.

"I'd like you to read part of this book. Something about it bothers me. I think the book in itself is a trap. Something about the way it read -- as if it was trying to tempt me," Thomas says grimly.

"A trap?" Redmane asks, pursing her lip. "Alright, I'll give it a shot."

"You're strong willed. I think you should be safe. I want to see if it pulls at your desires," Thomas says and gets up. He walks over and hands her the book.

The younger knight drops the branches off by the tiny fire and starts feeding them in. "Is it interesting reading?" he asks of Thomas and Redmane, apparently sharing the book.

"Dangerous reading, I think," Thomas says as he watches Redmane closely.

After rereading the passage a few times, Redmane shakes her head. "It's gibberish. I suppose something could be hidden in it, but I don't feel anything," she says, and hands the book back to Thomas.

"Well, why would Master Faust have had a book of gibberish?" inquires Sir Lefallon.

Rachel pulls the boiled rag out with a knife point, holding it up to cool in the chill air. "I thought it odd that the last thing he would write about would be getting an item of great importance to him. I thought mages liked to write ... at great length ... about their findings."

"Curious," Thomas says and takes the book back and flips it open to a random place and starts reading. "It was telling me how to navigate this place. How I could find items of great power and become the most famous explorer who ever lived."

"Sounded like something you'd find in a Masonic Lodge," Redmane notes. "Lots of stuff about ancient knightly orders, artifacts and ceremonies. But the sentences themselves just didn't make any sense when you looked at them closely." She then goes about building a bigger fire with the wood Sir Lefallon has brought, so that she can begin making some supper.

Thomas snaps the book closed. "It is a trap. A lure. It shows you what you want to read about. It shapes to who you are," Thomas says. "Whether what it shows you is true or not, it matters not. I don't think I want to risk it." He stuffs it back into his travel pack.

Sir Lefallon shivers. "Lords and Ladies! Perhaps we should burn it, milord, or it might fall into someone else's hands."

"If that is the will of this company, I will destroy it," Thomas replies and looks off into the darkness of one of the passageways.

Redmane sets up her cook pot, and dumps in the stew ingredients. She also uses some of the twigs to skewer a few of the tough biscuits in place over the pot, so that the steam will soften them a bit. "Might be able to use it on an enemy though, Sir Lefallon. Best to keep it." Once things are set up, she starts fixing a feedbag for Ahearn as well.

While Redmane prepares food, Thomas walks to the center of the room and looks from passage to passage intently, inspecting the framework around each. He closes out thoughts of anything else and focuses only on finding the right passageway to take.

Rachel gives Redmane time to get the stew together and boiling, then sits her down with the now-cool, and relatively sterile, rag in her hand. She cleans the knight's cuts and scrapes, gently but thoroughly. Every now and then she mutters, "I wish Angel were here."

"I wouldn't mind having her here either," Redmane whispers back. "She was big help during our last foray into the Pit," she notes. "Well, the other Pit."

Each of the passage leads away into cobwebbed darkness, silent save for the tiny skittering of little things moving about, distant creaking noises, the sigh of wind in and out of them.

"I hope, wherever she is, she's safer than we are," Rachel answers. Ahearn, returned with Simon, is back to hovering over Redmane, though he's careful to stay out of Rachel's way. He whuffles into the redhead's hair, ruffling it.

Thomas doesn't comment; he continues to focus on the passageways. "One of the passages is different. The air is different, but it's more than just that," Thomas says finally.

Sir Lefallon looks over to Thomas askance, getting up from where he was tending the fire and walking over. He waves his hand through the air at the passages, and says at last, "I can't tell the difference, milord. What are you thinking?"

"You're a linguist, right Rachel?" Redmane asks, and smiles up to Ahearn. "Can you make sense of any of the markings around here?" Toward Thomas, she says, "I hope by different you mean fresher."

"Gut feeling -- instinct," Thomas mutters. "Aside from the slightly cooler air, there's something. But, consider this: underground the temperature is relatively constant, so the air should all be roughly the same temperature. But, if it connects somewhere else and is drawing air in from the outside ... higher up in the mountain where it's cooler."

"Maybe. But what if it just leads out somewhere else? But I'll trust your instincts if you feel that's the right way to go, Lord Explorer," Sir Lefallon says.

"I can scout ahead alone if you are uncertain," Thomas offers.

"Nobody goes off by themselves from this point on," Redmane declares.

Rachel blinks at Redmane's question to her. "Markings?" She peers into the darkness outside the circle of their fire. "I was so busy with the fire and whatnot I didn't even notice. What markings?"

"If I choose to go alone, I will go alone, Redmane," Thomas says with finality.

"There must be something," Redmane says, and looks at the archways. "Maybe they've all been wiped out by the new tenants though," she concedes. She doesn't respond to Thomas's assertion, but doesn't look happy about it.

Sir Lefallon blinks and then waves his hands placatingly. "Ah, milord, I'd rather accompany you if you're going scouting ahead. It's always good to have someone watching your back -- especially if these corridors really do lead to the Destroyer's Keep."

Thomas glances at Redmane and concedes, "But, I do not choose or wish to go alone. It was an offer if others doubted my choice." He then nods to Sir Lefallon and says, "As I'd prefer to have. The Years have taught me to trust my instincts on things like this. One passage feels different. I think it's the right one."

"Then we'll take that one, my lord," Rachel says. "Together."

"Let's eat and rest first then," Redmane suggests, while stirring the stew. "If it still feels like the right passage in the morning, we can check it out feeling fresh."

"Well, as fresh as one can feel without a good morning bath in an icy river, anyway," Thomas comments and walks back over to the fire. He settles down beside Rachel and smiles.

"I think that would be wise. It would give me a chance to clean out your scrapes, Lord Thomas," Rachel offers.

"What, they don't make me look dignified and adventurous?" Thomas asks jokingly, then nods. "Yes, I should probably have them checked before they become infected or worse. After dinner then. I'll try not to be too obnoxious of a patient," he then adds with a smile.

"Having our wounds licked is a burden we must all put up with, Thomas," Redmane says, grinning in the firelight. "I'm sure you'll manage to survive Rachel's attentions."

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.