THE HIDDEN KEY

The Ruin on the Hill

Gilford clasped the leather reins with both hands while he took off across the lush verdant fields. The wind whistled in his ears and blew through his hair as he went up a steep grassy bank. His eyes fell upon the hills in the distance. Their summits were shrouded in a dense ghostly-white fog while they loomed above him. How am I going to reach the other side of the hills without getting lost in the mist? Should he turn back and head west for Greyhollow or continue north despite the danger? No. If he were to go around, it would take him longer to reach Greyhollow and he wouldn't get there until nightfall. No, I need to keep heading north.

He pulled hard on the reins, bringing Eponie to a halt in front of a stream while he gazed up at the hills. His eyes scanned the treacherous slopes, searching for a safer trail that he could follow...but there wasn't. Eponie whined in protest. His hooves scraped across the grassy banks as Gilford urged him down and across the stream. The water sloshed and burbled as he waded across the shallow stream and up the other bank, closing the distance between himself and the hills. There must be a straightforward way to reach the other side of the hill without going through the mist.

Gilford sighed and gazed up the ominous hill...his stomach churned as he started his ascent up the treacherous hillside. The wind whistled in his ears as he slowly went through the mist. He grasped the reins and glanced around. There was nothing but mist in all directions. A cold shiver travelled down his spine. As he reached the top of the grassy summit, he stopped and gazed upwards at the remnants of an ancient wall that stood before him. This wall will lead me to safety.

He turned and went across the hilltop beside the wall as it spans the hilltop. His hands trembled while he grasped the reins and peered through the dense mist...There stood on the highest peak in the range amongst the haze were the remnants of a large round tower along with sections of a partially eroded wall. Where is this place?

He clambered down off Eponie and led him up the steep grassy slope towards the tower and he passed through a narrow cleft between two sections of ancient stonework, he slowly gazed up. His eyes fell upon the partially eroded parapets and battlements that still crowned the top of the sturdy ruined tower. After tying Eponie to a large rock, Gilford went inside the tower and slowly glanced around the empty room at the old, roofed fireplace that was etched into the stonework before he took off up the stairway. His feet clattered on the cracked eroded steps as he went to the top of the tower to get a better view of the surrounding countryside and while he was glancing around the hilltop, he stared at a wide ring of ancient stonework covered in moss that followed the natural shape of the hilltop below with a narrow opening facing the north and south. Could this be...Fort Braidwild?

Gilford peered down at the opening on the northern wall. A narrow pathway that had been hewed on the ground suddenly disappeared beyond the ridge. Why would there be a gateway facing towards the north and south...there's nothing but a sheer drop on both sides.

He stroked his chin while waiting for the mist to clear and as he turned and went back down the steps...a spine-chilling shriek echoed in the distance. He froze, covering his ears with his hands as he slowly turned around. His heart pounded. What was...

His eyes fell upon the desolate flattened hilltop below...

The silhouette of a dark figure made its way through the thick eerie mist, stopped, and slowly glanced up in his direction before disappearing below a grassy ridge.

There was something about the figure that sent an icy chill down the length of Gilford's spine. He hunched his shoulders, turned around and went back down the steps. As he reached the ground floor of the tower, he froze...there stood in the arched doorway, glaring back at him was a tall, stocky figure, draped in a black deep hooded hauberk. Its face was shadowed and invisible and around its waist, sheathed inside a black scabbard was a longsword, whose hilt and cross-guard were adorned with thorns. "Who are you?"