BlackThorn's Doom (10 page)

Hot ash fell from the sky starting new fires and stinging their flesh with small burns. Using much of their remaining water they soaked the Morne cloaks and huddled within them for protection from the burning debris.

They moved as quickly as they could forcing their way through the thick brush. At times they were forced far to the north to avoid burning fires and thick fields of gurgling mud and boiling pools of water.

For more than half the day they journeyed before coming to a rise in the land. Ahead of them stood another high ridge of black stone. It descended down from the mountains flank and stretched far into the distance before disappearing beneath the yellowed treetops.

“Nothing,” Marcos answered sadly. “They are screaming in torment, mad raving things that have been twisted by Sur’kar’s might. Their shouts are incoherent, what sanity they possessed has long since left them. Even the youngest among them wails incoherently.”

They climbed the loose stone and entered valley beyond. The sickly trees crowded against the mountains base. A few even managed a precarious hold on its lower reaches.

The Fuming volcano’s stone turned southward disappearing into a deep gloom that seemed impervious to the weak that touched the ground were they now stood.

The vegetation was thicker here, the trees taller with heavy boles that bore no signs of charring. Thick vines slowed their progress. They grew everywhere, hard barked and laden with long thorns that tore at their clothing and flesh without mercy.

Hacking their way forward they came quite unexpectedly to a narrow dirt track that ran arrow straight through the fetid wood running northeast from the mountain.

Crouching low to the ground Yoladt ventured out onto the hard packed earth. He studied the ground carefully for a few moments before rushing back to the cover of the wood.

“It is well traveled.” He said catching his breath. “By horse and cart alike, some of the tracks are less than a few hours old at most.”

“Then there is danger here.” Suni said eyeing the road with disdain. “With the noise from the mountain a hundred horsemen could come upon us without warning.”

Marcos could see the merit in Suni’s caution. “We stay just within the tree line using the road as our guide.”

Reluctantly they returned to the darkness within the trees. Although open sky of roiling clouds and thick ash were disturbing to look upon, the smell of the tormented plant life was far more disquieting to their senses.

The way ahead became more passable the further south they ventured. The thick tangled mass of vines thinned and eventually disappeared altogether. The grim trees grew further apart making the deep wood well suited for travel.

Twice they dropped low to the ground as horses thundered past along the nearby roadway. Suni’s caution had been correct. They had had no warning, only when the horses were almost upon them did they hear the hoof falls.

Casius watched the riders pass through an opening in the dense foliage. Once they had gone he sat up and shook his head. “Men and Morne working together.” He said in disgust.

“Fear of Sur’kar does indeed make strange allies.” Marcos commented brushing dirt from his soiled stained clothing.

Over the rumblings of the Mountain a strange hissing sound could be heard, growing louder with each passing mile.

The trees ended abruptly upon the shore of a small lake. The water was as dark as midnight and steamed fitfully in the gloom. A thick scum of yellow algae clung along the muddy bank, rising and falling with the gentle waves.

The water spanned half a mile to the blackened roots of the mountain. In its center a huge geyser of the black liquid shot skyward, rising over a hundred feet before falling back to the lakes surface. Beyond the erupting water they could see the roadway hugging the mountains base.

Marcos shook his head. “That would be unwise, the stain of our enemy goes deep in this land. To touch the waters so close to Trothgar’s poisoned aquifers could lead to madness and death.” Marcos pointed along the eastern bank. “The road has its own dangers as well, we will follow the shore until it turns southward once more.”

With a final look to the inviting road Casius followed his companions along the muddy bank and into the darkness of the wood.

The lake was small and within a few hours they came to a shallow ravine where the water of the lake roared southward in a swiftly flowing cataract.

They followed the gully keeping well clear of the brittle stone that lined its edges. The old lava was heavily eroded and riddled with cracks; massive gouges in the bank were stark evidence as to where the rock had failed before.

After two miles the trees abruptly ended where the road met the river. Across the hard packed earth the forest continued on.

Darting across the open ground they reached the shadows of the wood undetected. The hour was growing late and they began to search for a suitable campsite. Shortly before sunset they found a low knoll of dry earth. Rising above the soggy loam of the wood they would be able to rest in relative comfort. A thicket of dense brush bearing wickedly long thorns blanketed its western slope offering them some protection.

Connell looked away and rummaged through the nearly empty pack he had carried from the lands of the Mahjie. He found only a few bites of stale bread. He ate them and tossed the pack aside.

Their supplies were nearly gone, low on both food and water Connell knew they would never make it back to the eastern Kingdoms with what remained.

It was a long night, each man taking his turn at watch while the others slept. Casius paced about the hilltop listening to his empty stomach grumbling.

The forest had come alive, there were fell creatures moving within the trees. The sounds of combat echoing loudly in the darkness. At times they would draw near the hill but none dared venture up its sides to see what was encamped up there. The scent was foreign to the beasts and only the wary stayed alive long within Havoc’Mor.

With the coming of dawn they were on the move once more. At the hills base they found strange tracks. Large with deep gouges created by long claws, they led off to the north.

They traveled cautiously throughout the day. The tracks found in the morning added to their wariness. With every passing mile it grew darker.

Strange lights flickered through the trees ahead, as they approached they could see that it was cast by oil fueled lanterns.

They had come to the end of the forest; ahead of them lay a sizable town. The buildings were fashioned from the dark stone of the mountain. Rough sided without windows and doors, only dark openings that in a few cases glowed brightly from lights within.

Despite the late hour the streets bustled with dark robed figures Morne and humans alike. Unlike other towns its size there were no sounds of laughter or music. Only the monotonous ring of blacksmiths’ hammers could be heard over the rumble of the mountain.

Within the shadow of Trothgar it stood, nestled between two ridges formed from old lava flows. The road they had followed ran through its heart and up the mountainside.

The crown of the mountain was at its lowest, only slightly more than a hundred feet above the buildings. Brilliant light played beyond the rim. Huge gouts of liquid fire jumped skyward lighting the shadows between the buildings before falling back into the calderas.

Beyond the dancing flames and dark smoke the needle thin spire of V’rag could be seen. Standing tall and foreboding within the volcanoes heart. It was blacker than the darkest night. Wreathed in flame with molten stone flowing from some of the parapets, the very sight of it struck fear into their hearts.

Marcos took a deep breath and turned his back to the tower. He walked back into the forest breaking the spell the tower had upon them. The others followed; walking in silence until the village could no longer be seen.

“The way before lies through the very heart of the settlement.” Marcos said once they all were seated. “Sur’kar has brought his craftsmen to his very doorstep. This I had not foreseen.”

“A wise decision on his part.” Suni said. “His gate is all the more guarded and his servants closely watched.”

“How do we get past them?” Casius asked. “The buildings touch the very sides of the volcano, I do not think we can simply walk around them. There must be thousands of Morne and men living there.”

They sat in silence for several moments when Connell slapped his thigh startling them all, save Suni who merely arched an eyebrow at the sudden sound.

“Stealth is not the answer.” Connell said with a grin. “We simply walk through as if we own the place.”

“We would be seen before we covered a hundred paces.” Yoladt protested.

“Aye,” Connell answered. “Seen as would any others in the town.” Connell touched his ash streaked clothing. “Our passage through Tarok nor has marked us, as it has the inhabitants of the town. With the darkness and our Morne cloaks we will blend in.”

Yoladt sat back his protest dying upon his lips. “Connell is right,” He said after a moments thought. “We can do this.”

Suni looked at his cloak and his gazed traveled over the others. “There is merit in Connell’s suggestion, however Yoladt’s cloak is the color of stone and earth. It will not fool the townsmen.”

Yoladt undid the clasp at his neck and turned the Material inside out. It was lined in a black cloth only slightly darker than the cloaks the others wore. “For stealth at night.” He said fastening the clasp.

Suni nodded in approval. “It is the only option before us.” He said looking to Marcos. “Unless you can cover our approach?”

Marcos shook his head. “That would only hasten our discovery and put an end to our mission. There are things more malicious than Morne and evil men watching over this village. To draw their attention would spell disaster for our cause.”

“Then make yourselves ready.” Connell stated coming to his feet. “Bury the packs here, there little left in them anyways. Wrap your cloaks tight and keep the hoods up. Hide your weapons beneath them, they are unlike any to be found here.”

“Walk with purpose but keep you heads down,” Suni added shoving his pack beneath the sour smelling loam. “Do not make eye contact, move as the villagers do and stay within the shadows.”

They walked in among the buildings. The villagers moved about keeping to themselves each going about their own tasks. Hardly sparing the weary group of men a second glance.

The buildings were crude and depressing. No care had been given to their appearance during construction. They contained no doors or windows, simply dark openings with heavy drapes. The deeper into the town they ventured the larger the buildings became. Until they walked in the shadows of multi storied warehouses and smithies whose furnaces glowed hotly and the sounds of hammers striking steel rang incessantly.

A deep trench ran along the roadway, filled with stagnant water and the contents of chamber pots. The overwhelming odor made the fetid reek of Havoc’Mor seem pleasant in comparison.

As they passed through the open space that served as the town’s center the road began to slope upward, climbing higher towards the flanks of the fiery mountain.

Crossing a low bridge that spanned a fast flowing creek of black water they came to the edge of town. Stopping within the shadows of what appeared to be a slaughterhouse they looked up the long stone causeway that led to a dark cave like opening in the mountainside.

Thraldur, the gate of skulls and the sole entry to Sur’kar’s sanctuary, Casius moved his gaze away from the looming opening.

Shouts erupted behind them, spinning about he watched as several whip wielding Morne drove a group of half starved men out of the slaughterhouse. They were weary and covered with deep bloody welts from the Morne whips.