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Date Posted: 21:16:08 04/05/03 Sat
Author: Adaron, Leila, Gelan & Brage
Subject: At the Dusk Door
In reply to: Adaron, Leila, Gelan & Brage 's message, "Traveling to Drimmen-Deeve" on 21:00:32 04/05/03 Sat

Fifteen more miles they went, south verging west, and the mounts were near to spent, for those that didn’t bear double had been roving across the land longer, and the freshest of them was bearing double, and the chase was long, with little or no respite. "Gelan King," called Adaron, "Arauka begins to falter. We must do something to throw the Ghulka off our track."

"Why do we not take off in separate directions? Make a rendezvous then circle 'round and retrace our steps to throw them off before alighting anew. It will cause confusion among the scenting Vulgs, especially if each crosses the other's path."

Gelan signed that he had heard them both but did not otherwise reply, riding onward instead. He would not sparate them and they could not yet stop. At last they came out of the hills to see the Old Rell Way before them, and they rode along its abandoned bed, finally coming to a fork: To the left was a cloven vale; to the right the road bore on southward. Here Gelan reined Jet to a halt. The other steeds stopped as well, lathered and trembling. "Leila, Lord Adaron, retrieve your knapsacks from the packhorse, " said Gelan. "Fill them with provisions. Get grain sacks too, for Jet and Arauka. Leila, you will ride with Adaron on smaller Arauka while Brage will join me on Jet. Brage, again use your ax to chop brush: six large bushes. I have one way we might escape." Then he turned to Leila. "Though your before plan seemed sound, still they would have split to follow the paths and meet up with us once more. We must try and turn them aside, pray that they follow a different scent, perhaps a stronger one."

Once they stopped and as he commanded she dismounted and went quickly to the pack horse beginning the task of filling all the provisions into as small of a space as she could manage "Pray tell me what your plan is, High King," she said, for once sounding as though she were not being so contrite with him.

Adaron's leg swung over the back of the grey stud as he dismounted and joined Leila at the side of the pack horse.

While Brage cut the winter-dried brushwood, Gelan moved to the pack horse as well, packing away provisions. "I plan to send the Spawn that follow after a decoy, Lady Leila." Then, while Brage filled his own knapsack, Gelan moved to Jet as well as Arauka, and tied the brush close behind the two riding mounts by loops of rope, each horse with a large bush set to drag close upon its heels. To the packhorse and Solos, though, he broke up and fastened a brushy limb above the pack cradle and far behind Solos. Then, temporarily shedding his outerwear, he removed his sweat-soaked jerkin and tied it to a rope so that it would trail along in the snow behind Solos, who would no doubt be lagging behind the packhorse, for the Dwarf was not light cargo.

She stared at him with disbelief then. "You are sending two of our horses to die?!" Which was better than them, but as Adaron well knew, Leila was not one to sacrifice life so easily.

"Lord Adaron, take up Jet's reins as well as Arauka's. Hold them firmly; keep them calm." A glance then to Leila. "They may yet escape, and we have no other choice." Then his head snapped about so he may looked at Brage. "Here I turn the packhorse and Solos eastward into the valley. Brage, grasp their reins now. Leila, your flint and steel: set some touchwood glowing. I am going to set this brushwood attached to them on fire."

"You most certainly are not!" she cried. "Have you gone completely mad?! It will burn the horses when it has finished the brushwood, not to mention the discomfort it will cause along the way!"

"We've not the time for this, Leila." Gelan almost smiled at her as he shook his head. "Nay, they will not burn, the cradle with protect the packhorse and the brush is far enough behind Solos that it will not climb up the rope. Though they will not think so. They will bolt east into the vale, spreading my scent after, while we fare south, the brush we drag behind obscuring out tracks. Let us hope the Vulgs are fooled." "Now, light it."

She downright glared at him before she lit the brush irritably, making a quiet apology to the horses as she put the flint away once more angrily. She did not like Gelan at that moment. Not one iota.

Well, if they were go live, then this was the only way. Gelan blew as the flames started. And as the tinder-dry branches burst into flame, Jet and Arauka pulled back, but Adaron held them firm by the bit-straps. The packhorse and Solos, too, plunged and reared, and as the flame roared up, Brage loosed the reins and stepped aside as Gelan cried "Hai!" and slapped each steed on the rump. Screaming in fear, the animals fled in panic, running full tilt to escape the flames. But the horses wheeled and bolted south instead of east! "Rach!" spat Gelan.

"Stupid horses," growled Brage. "Now it is we who are left with the eastern way. Let us ride into the valley and hide until the danger is past." Gelan gave a quick nod and strode to Adaron, taking Jet from him and mounting up, pulling Brage up behind him.

Adaron spun and fluidly leapt astride Arauka, extending his hand out to Leila as he urged the horse over to her at a trot.

It served them right for thinking they could control panicked animals. Leila was still furious beyond all means but took Adaron's hand and pulled herself up behind him, wrapping her arms around his midsection to steady herself as they continued toward the east now.

East they bore, into the valley, the brush dragging in the snow, obscuring their tracks. The slopes of the vale rose up around them, looming higher the farther east they went, till they rode in a deep-riven valley far below a distant rim. The floor of the vale curved this way and that, and the road they followed ran along the edge of a winding ravine, shallow and rocky and without water or ice, though a dusting of snow covered the dry stream bed.

So far had they ridden in one day and it seemed as though they had made it nowhere. Leila could do naught but stare into the distance with a quiet sigh. So ready for sleep was she that she felt as though she might fall from the back of the horse she bestrode. One arm held her cloak tightly around her, the other laced loosely around Adaron to hold her balance as they rode.

As they rode, Gelan glanced up at the gentle slopes rising to either side, where the vale canted up finally to meet a wall that loomed sheer. Suddenly, he smote his forehead with a palm. But said nothing.

Adaron glanced over at the King, his blue eyes holding nothing behind them. "High King?" He inquired quietly.

"Have you not seen, Lord Adaron?" And Gelan looked dismayed. "We are trapped. We should have ridden west out onto the open land and not east into this sheer-walled cleft, for here we cannot get out. And now it is too late to turn back. The horses should have bolted this way and not us, and I was distracted when they ran south, a lapse that may cost us our lives." Gelan's voice was bitter.

There was the softest of sighs behind Adaron that sounded. Heavy was her heart and she did not want to think of death now, especially for such a foolish mistake as this. "So now where do we go?" she asked quietly. "If we cannot go to either side of us but only straight ahead, what lies at the end of this valley? Perhaps your ruse will be enough to buy us enough time to get through the other side?"

"Gelan King, mayhap they will follow the scent of your shirt and not our scrubbed track." Responded the Elf to the High King’s words.

"I do not know what lies at the end of this valley. And let us hope that that is enough." Back behind them the entrance to the valley could not be seen, and Gelan desperately hoped that their trick had deceived the Vulgs and Ghola, and prayed that their wake was clear of those evil creatures. Onward they road without speaking then, and the only sounds made were the ragged thud of overweary hooves, and labored gasps of pumping lungs, and the scraggle of brush hauled behind. How long they had fled, was not certain, yet both Jet and Arauka had borne double to the limits of their endurance, and they were near to foundering. Gelan reined to a halt and dismounted, singing for Brage to do the same. And as Brage dropped to the snow, Arauka stumbled to a halt behind, and Adaron slipped down from the gray's back.

Leila too dismounted then, patting Arauka's neck gently in a sign of gratitude, and perhaps pity for the horse that had borne such a heavy load for such a long distance, for Adaron was certainly not as light as he seemed upon the snow by any means! Her bones popped as she twisted this way and than before finally she sighed. "Are we going to now make camp here? Or do we continue on and lead them behind us to drag the brush and hide our tracks?" They could still make another few miles, or at least find shelter somewhere, for the current spot seemed perfectly barren all except piles of snow blown high around rocks or pathetic shrub trees.

With a soft sigh Gelan nodded. "We lead them on, but Jet can not bear weight any longer." Gelan could have teared to see the steed in such agony. Yet he began walking east leading Jet, the horse trembling with each step, his breathing tortured, his flanks foamed with lather. Arauka, too, mirrored the black. Gelan looked at the valley around him, a puzzled frown upon his features. "There is something strangely familiar about this vale: the road, the ravine to our right, the sheer rim. It is as if I should know it, though I have never been here, but from childhood a haunting memory gnaws, though I know not what it is." They rounded a curve and stopped, for less than a mile before them was the head of the vale: a high stone cliff jumped perpendicular from the valley floor; the spur of road they followed cut upward along the face of the bluff, to disappear over its top. Also carved in the stone face was a steep stairway leading up beyond the rim, up a pinnacle standing high above the bluff, up to a sentinel stand atop the spire overlooking the valley. And beyond the rampart and dwarfing it, looming out and arching over, was a great massif of Grimspire Mountain rising up into the Everdark.

Brage and Adaron strode up to the side of the High King, Brage speaking, his voice hushed. "It is as we suspected: this is Ragad Vale."

Leila had taken over the lead of Arauka when Adaron went to speak to Gelan, though she listened to their conversation, noting idly the way the air formed into a chilled cloud before her face before dissipating into the air around them. "Where is Ragad Vale?" she asked of the dwarf, or perhaps any of the three that walked before her who might be able to answer her question.

"Ai! Of course!" For the second time this day Gelan slapped a palm to his forehead. He glanced over his shoulder at Leila. "The Valley of the Door!" Said mostly to himself, and in realization.

She stared at him as though he hadn't even acknowledged her question. "The...Door? Should that mean something to me that I did not pick up in my apprenticeship?" A black brow arched elegantly above a green-gold eye to await her dear King's explanation. "I have never heard of any such Door that was important. Nor of a vale that led to it. Tell me of this place?"

Gelan slowed to fall into step with her. "The Dusk-Door. The western entrance into the Black Hole, named Drimmen-deeve by the Elves. Atop that bluff and carven in the wall of the Great Loom of Grimspire stands the Dusk-Door; shut now for nearly....." The High King's brows furrowed and his hand went to his chin a moment as he thought before he glanced up at the Elf walking before them with the Dwarf. "Lord Adaron?"

The Elf's head turned to allow him to look over his shoulder at the two while he spoke. "The Dusk-Door has been shut for nearly five hundred years, though it stood open for five hundred before that, left ajar by the Drimma as they fled from the Dread, loosed at last from the Lost Prison and stalking through their domain."

"I must see it now that I am here." stated Brage.

"So then it was the eld dwarf home that we talked about a few..." she scrunched her nose up. "I know not even how many days have passed since that discussion, everything runs together in my mind at this point. I could not tell you how many days it has been since leaving Arden Vale. But if I do remember...something...lives there now? Something that a reincarnated dwarf is going to be reborn to slay so that the dwarves can reclaim it?" Apparently she'd either listened to more of Brage's ramblings than she'd let on to, or she had a really good imagination.

Brage emitted a hushed bark of a laugh, his hands clapping together in front of him once. "Aye, you have it." Forward they went, following the abandoned road, and while they went, Brage spoke; for of course, now he just knew that Leila wanted to hear more. "There on that pinnacle is the Sentinel Stand, where Chakka warders of old stood watching o'er the vale. Down the bluff, water once fell in a graceful falls--Sentinel Falls--fed by the Duskrill, the stream said to have carven this very valley. This road we follow is the Rell Spu, a tradeway of old, abandoned when the Gargon came to rule Kraggen-cor. If the tales be true, the Dusken Door itself stands within a great portico against the Loom, on a marble courtyard surrounded by a moat with a drawbridge. Long have my eyes wanted to see this Land, yet I had hoped it would be when the Chakka came to make of it a mighty Realm as of old, and not as a fugitive fleeing from vile foe."

And Leila of course listened ever intently, you never knew apparently when you'd have to spit the information back out. "If the Gargon does rule the halls of that place, then would it not be wise for us to go in there?" She just had the feeling that they were going to end up in there one way or another. "Though surely it must be such a large place that if we were to pass through it quietly we would not be discovered. Furthermore, I do not consider it so much fleeing as...swiftly moving in a direction opposite to that of the enemy...coincidentally," said the gypsy, who seemed to be in an oddly cheerful mood for their situation.

Now it was Gelan who spoke, still in step with the Gypsy. He nodded his agreement. "It would mean certain death to walk those halls, and never would we do such." And he gave a light grin at her last comment, even a soft chuckle sounding before he spoke up to Brage. "The Dusk-Door, it is told in the old tales that it opened by a word alone. Is that true?"

"Aye," answered Brage, "if the word be spoken by a Chak whose hand presses upon the Door--at least Chakka lore would have it so."

"It is said among the Elves that the Wizard Greven helped in its crafting." Adaron commented.

"With Gatemaster Valki he made it," said Brage, nodding slightly.

As interesting as this was...Leila took herself out of the conversation again leaning down to scoop up a handful of virgin snow and formed it into a ball to offer to the horse she led for him to eat as potential water, for she knew he must be tired. "Do you know that word, Brage?" Inserting herself back into the conversation then.

The horse sniffed at the snowball but turned his head aside. He wasn't stupid. He knew that would make him worse off than he already was. The only type of snow he would take into his mouth was the melted kind, for any other would freeze his insides. "Aye, they are with me, " answered Brage, "for my grandsire was a Gatemaster, and he taught them to me. But I followed the trade of my own sire, Bekki, and chose to be a warrior instead. Yet, even though I know the lore, I would not open that Door for all the starsilver in Kraggen-cor, for behind it dwells the Ghath."

Leading the steeds, they came to where the road turned up the face of the bluff, the way free of snow. The stopped long enough to discard the brush they had dragged behind the horses, for it was no longer needed. The comrades then started upward, both horses quivering with each step with the effort of mounting up the slope. "The steeds are spent," said Gelan, his voice filled with regret. "What evil fortune, for until they have rested long--a week or more--feeding up grain and pure water to restore their strength, we cannot ride."

"So then walking we shall be for the next week? Woe be to us if our ruse did not work and the Ghola find us." She shook her head softly, for the thought did not bode well with her. "As spent as our horses are though, my King, I think that we all feel almost as weary as our animals. We will need to make camp soon somewhere, for we have traveled long past twenty-four candle marks I am positive."

"We will go further. The door is not far." He simply stated and then fell silent as they trudged onward. Up the slope of the road along the bluff they went, at last topping the rise. Above them, hovering over, was the great natural hemidome of the Loomwall, and within its cavernous embrace lay a long, think black lakelet, no more than three furlongs across, and, from the north end where they stood, they saw that it ran nearly two and a half miles to the south. The lake was made by a dam of great stones wedged in a wall across the ravine atop the Stair Falls. The Rell Spur they followed disappeared into the ebon waters.

Brage's eyes were wide. "This black tarn should not be here!" he cried.

"The black tarn?" She just stared forward at all that lay before them curiously.

Icy ocean blue hues gazed at the black waters. "This is the Dark Mere and the Eldalie tell that something evil dwells within. What, I cannot say, but stay wide of its shore."

The cold-reddened nose of the gypsy scrunched up again. "I will take your word for it," and while she was at it, along with the words she wouldn't mind taking...nevermind. Stop that! She crossed her arms around her hiding the reins under her cloak where she was hiding her hands. Leila too was almost too tired to walk anymore.

"Ai-oi! Here's a riddle!" exclaimed Gelan. "Why is not this lake frozen?" Gelan had indeed pointed out an enigma: except for a narrow rim of thin ice embracing the shoulders here and there, the black waters of the Dark Mere undulated torpidly, as if pulsing with evil.

"Perhaps it is not frozen because it is sheltered by the Loom." Offered Brage, eyeing the great vault of stone above.

"Perhaps it is not frozen because Drego does not wish it to be." Responded Adaron tonelessly. "Just as the Quadran Pass held no snow, this Dark Mere, too, escapes the clutch of deep Winternight. Mayhap it does not suit Drego's purposes to have it otherwise, and he is Master of the Cold."

"Or perhaps whatever lurks within is large enough to stir the waters in the center that the ice cannot form," she offered. Noting Adaron's comment before adding to it. "Perhaps indeed he means it as a trap to any that would have come this way so that whatever dwells within would take care of any opposition so he did not have to?"

Brage growled. "It is so black."

"Even were there sunlight, it would be so." answered Adaron. "Some say it is because it lies under the black granite of the Loomwall above; others say it is because the Dark Mere is evil."

Brage looked up once more at the Great Loom arching cavern-like hundreds of feet overhead. Then his eyes roamed the distant shoreline. "Over there against the Loom I see tall while columns holding up a great roof." He pointed. "It is the portico of the Dusk-Door. Lying before it is a marble courtyard, bounded by the Dusk-Moat fed by the Duskrill. Yet they are flooded by this Dark Mere. But see, there endures the ancient draw-bridge, standing open above where the moat should have been. There, too, is the Rell Spur, where it runs along the base of the Loom. But all else is drowned in blackness." Brage's voice was filled with rage over the desecration of the environs by the Dark Mere.

"Everything seems evil in these dark days, it would only be fitting that this mere too would fit the description." She looked to Gelan then. "Please tell me, High King, that you have not the intentions of crossing that bridge." Leila looked warily upon the scene, watching that black water that seemed to lurch every now and then as though she expected the very horde itself to spring forth from the depths.

Gelan wearily looked at her from under his brows. "Leila, I would not be so foolish." Then his gaze lifted to Brage. "Perhaps--" Gelan started to say, but his words were interrupted by a long, chilling, Vulg howl echoing up Ragad Vale. Jet and Arauka jerked their weary heads up, and their ears stood listening.

"Vulgs!" Cried Brage. "In the Vale!" Gelan's head twisted about but nothing could be seen beyond the curves.

"Leila! The Sentinel Stand!" He commanded her to it, hoping that her eyes would serve true once more.

And at his word the reins here handed back to Adaron quickly as she jogged to mount the sentinel stand, eyes scanning the distance behind them beyond the curves. Her heart sank. "There are Ghuls with torches searching for us within crevices and shadows. They ride toward the head of the vale. The Vulgs have scented us, but have yet to find a strong enough trail to follow surely." Looking down then to Gelan, she sighed softly. "They block the width of the valley my King. I know not what to advise you. There is no way to go back, only forward, and we must go quickly."

Gelan gave a sharp nod and gritted: "Even if there was the chance to burst past them, we could not, for Jet and Arauka can bear no more."

"If we can get across the old moat, " said Brage, "we can hide on the portico."

"But the drawbridge is up," she informed him.

Adaron turned to cast a glance at the Gypsy who had joined them once more. "Do no abandon hope until we look." His voice was nearly sharp. And north they ran, drawing the horses behind, around the end of the Mere, crossing through a shallow, muck-bottomed seep.

Now the stone of the Loom arched above them, and it seemed as though one felt as if they could almost hear the weight of the rock groaning overhead. South they turned and swiftly they went alongside the dark granite wall, perhaps a half mile before coming to a sundered causeway where the Rell Spur emerged from the black waters of the Dark Mere. The pave of the Spur was riven with age, and they wended through the upheaved rocks south toward the portico, the Loom to their left and the Mere to their right but a few paces away. Three furlongs more they pressed, coming at last to a great drawbridge made of massive wooden timbers. Out upon the span they strode, their steps ringing hollowly, and the waters of the Dark Mere lapped less than a yard below. But they had to stop short, for the bascule was up, and open water rising and falling, undulating before them. And from Ragad Vale came the howl of a Vulg.

"They draw closer, King Gelan," glancing behind them, though they had not rounded a final curve. "Adaron, you were here in your youth, how do we enter, or Brage...this is a place of your people, surely you know a way as well? We can not remain out here for they will swarm upon us before we have time to do aught else." The water made her nervous as if it was a living thing itself just waiting to pick its moment.

Brage looked at the Dark Mere before them and growled. "When the Chakka fled Kraggen-cor, the span was left down. Now it is up." Adaron, standing in the fore, his face stoic, unclasped his cloak and set it aside and then began removing his armor, handing over Bale sword and Bane long-knife to Leila. Then he began to strip his garments. "It was raised by the Rupt," said the Elf. "If we survive, I will tell you the tale. But now I will swim to the far side and try to lower the bascule."

"But the ropes are made untrustworthy by age!" Brage protested.

"I do not see we have a choice." replied Adaron, now clothed only in his Elvish breeks.

She held the sword and long-knife with the greatest of care. "Adaron, please...you cannot mean to defile yourself in that water. What if it is true that something lives within those waters! What if you disturb it and it strikes you down below those murky depths where even my eyes cannot penetrate and we can not see to aid you?"

One long stride brought him to stand before her and both hands laid upon her shoulders as he gazed intently into her eyes. "Leila, there is no other choice. We cannot stay on this side and only I can withstand the chill of the water." He seemed as if he would say more before he tore his eyes from her and turned back towards the Mere. With a flat dive, Adaron plunged into the frigid dark waters.

Once his disappeared under the black surface of the water tears spilled down her cheeks. Her hand came up to wipe her tears with the back of her hand, careful not to smear the salty tears upon the hilts of the blades she held. Her concern was not hidden upon her face, her expression and even more so her eyes giving away how she worried for her elf now submerged.

Adaron surfaced and swiftly he stroked across the gap, no more than twenty yards wide. But as he clambered up a stone pier and onto the far span, a great swirl twisted in the water at his feet, as if something huge had passed near under the black surface, but the waves and ripples quickly died away, and the undulate surface pulsed slowly again.

"Did you see that?" she whispered harshly to Brage. Adaron's blades were sheathed within empty loops upon her belt and her bow drawn, an arrow nocked to aim at the water. Should it show itself and make to attack Adaron, or even them she would not be the one caught off guard.

Brage looked at her with a confused expression, he had been watching behind then and had not seen the disturbance of the surface and wondered at her bow.

Adaron grasped hold of the ancient halyards controlling the bascule, and they were stiff with age. Looking up, he shook them, and dust flew from the pully blocks atop the anchor posts. Then with a grimace of effort, the Elf hauled against the lines. And with the pulleys squealing in protest and the great bridge axle groaning, slowly the bascule began canting down from the vertical.

"Once we're across, we'll pull it back up, " said Brage. "Then if the foe finds us, still they will not be able to get at us unless they swim." The warrior Dwarf thumbed his ax. "Easy pray."

Slowly, down tilted the protesting span, descending toward the mooring pier. Halfway it had come, and just when Gelan was beginning to breath easier, with a dull snap, the ancient rope haul broke. Squealing and groaning, the massive bascule rushed down faster and faster to slam to with a thunderous, juddering BOOM! that rolled forth from the hemidome of the Great Loom to reverberate down the length of Ragad Vale: BOOM! Boom! boom! boom...boom....

Leila shrieked and danced backward, startled at the sound, and obviously at the consequences it would bring. "We have alerted the Ghola!" she cried, "Even over the echoes that still sound I can hear the Vulgs howling!" She began to gather the elf's clothing and armor in her arms. "And now they can follow us within these grim walls..."

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