VaultQuest: The Epoch Quartet

Chapter 3 - Torug Defka

A/N:

For any who missed my anouncment, i update this book randomly... enjoy

The weather had decided it wasn't putting up with the newly formed group's inaugural journey from the gates of Antiom; days later it was still raging, and worst of all, they hadn't been able to procure horses. Lysander fought through the rain, barely keeping his feet as the wind buffeted into the group. So far, he was faring the worst. He was using magic to divert the tougher gusts of wind, but even so it was hard slog. Myra walked ahead, sure footed in the mud wind and rain as she had been on the cobbled streets of Antiom, moving with that typical lithe Elven grace. She was, after all, despite her mannerisms and positive disposition, a Greencloak Ranger. They were the antithesis to the common assumption that all elves were made of finely wrought yet brittle porcelain. Tough as nails, nigh-on unstoppable trackers and warriors, and trained by the best the Elves had to offer, they were basically the stuff of legends. The weather, while rendering her two companions more or less blind, didn't really seem to bother her. Four days out of Antiom, they had followed the main road, but deviated from it recently in favour of a cross-country shortcut over the imposing hills that bordered the centre of the continent. They had many different names, assigned to them by many different cultures, but they were simply known colloquially as the Iron Gates, a term coined for their making a land invasion of Antiom a tactical nightmare. Abruptly, lost in this thoughts and not really paying attention, Lysander lost his footing. As he began to frantically try to compensate for his mistake, a huge hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, Slumpus pulling him back to his feet. Seemingly indomitable, the massive half Orc weathered the elements without a second thought, barely acknowledging the sheets of rain (And sometimes hail) that poured down from the heavens. "Thanks!" Lysander wheezed as he began walking again. Slumpus gave him a massive grin, and wordlessly began to follow Myra up the trail once again. "Not long now!" the Elf called back after studying the landscape. She had a joyous, wild look in her eyes, clearly enjoying being away from the cities and back in her preferred environment. Lysander breathed relief. The Ranger always managed to find them excellent camping sites. The trail wound up into the hills, seemingly without end, but Myra has assured them it was faster than the main road. Lysander wasn't so sure she had factored in the additional travel time of having companions who probably couldn't run as fast or as far without rest, or the weather decided it was going to be 'that guy'. But, Lysander kept going, pushing his screaming muscles and emptying his mind, focusing on the task at hand, easily calling upon that razor focus Avall'ach had schooled him in before he had taught him so much as a cantrip. Finally, after what seemed like an age, Myra led them from the trail, and pulled them into a cave cut into the face of a small shear cliff that only added to the immense verticality of the iron gates.

Shivering, Lysander summoned a flame in his palm, pouring magic into it until he sent it forth to rest in the middle of the cave, burning without the need for fuel and exuding a comforting warmth and throwing a dancing light around the smooth interior of the cave. Immediately Bleidd curled up near the flame, occasionally turning to dry out his coat. Perhaps formed by some kind of underground water source long since depleted, the cave was clearly used by travellers. There was a stack of firewood in the back of the cave, and a few basic cooking implements. Lysander lazily dragged over a few larger blocks of firewood for seating with magic, setting them around the fire he maintained with the barest trickle of Arcana. The other two took their seats as he fell into his. Removing some rations (And a disgruntled Vex) from his pack, Lysander set about eating, and simultaneously warming himself by trying to find the optimum heat for the ball of flame that heated the cave. Conversation was sparse as the three companions ate and rested; eventually, Lysander cleansed the party of accumulated grit and dust attained on the day's hike before setting up his bedroll as close to the fire as possible without risking severe burns and pulling a thick woolen blanket over his exhausted body, only vaguely aware of Vex settling down in the crook of his knee as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.