straight up like needles. Do people climb these?”
“Oh, I suppose they do, but I wouldn’t think so unless they had to, at least that’s how I would feel about it.”
Bryn agreed. He couldn’t imagine trying to climb up these sheer faces, or climbing down the hundreds of straight feet with only a rope. Just looking up at them began to make his stomach queasy; he didn’t want to think how looking down from that height would make him feel.
“We’d best get back on the road,” Halam said as he climbed on Juniper for another day in the saddle. Bryn and Rodden did the same, and they rejoined the road, the same dreary plains on their left, but now with the majestic mountains on their right, rising higher and higher, taking away the boredom of the landscape.
The mountains followed them as they continued to move south. The peaks were never revealed due to the cloud cover, a swirling mass that kept the unimaginable heights from their gazes. Bryn could understand now why the Montinos had been left to themselves for much of Adjurian history; why would anyone want to tackle those mountains if they didn’t have to? It seemed ludicrous to him to think that the Regidians actually thought they could invade Montino during the first Adjurian Civil War. Did they actually think they could succeed in driving the people from their mountain homes? There were passes that made traversing the mountains easier, Bryn knew, but he couldn’ fathom how the sight of these jagged towers to either side of invading army could do anything but decrease morale.
They kept up a good pace, and Halam mentioned that if the weather stayed good, they’d reach Lindonis by nightfall. Little changed throughout the day, and few words were exchanged. Most conversation had been exhausted in the first couple of days. There was not much Bryn could say; his life had been so uneventful. Halam was not talking, his head on the business that was now little more than a day ahead of him, and Rodden had run out of topics touching on geography and history with which to test Bryn’s knowledge.
As the sun began to descend over the mountains, Halam led them off of the main road and down a smaller tract to their left. “It’ll be nice to have a hot meal tonight,” he said, the others quickly agreeing.
The road wound away from the mountains, but could not escape their towering gaze, and soon farmhouses and other settlements began to sprout from the plains around them. They saw more and more people, and then a large city was spread wide before them. Unlike Coria, Lindonis had walls made of large stones, with battlements evenly spaced along their length. A large gate was set in their center, an iron portcullis raised up around it. They entered the city, and Bryn thought that it was about the same as the other two he’d now seen on the journey. Market stalls were spread out here and there, people milled about on whatever business they had, while guards patrolled the streets, no doubt bored from their routine patrols.
They wound through the streets until arriving at an inn called the ‘ Peak’s Rest ’ where they handed their reins to the stable boy and headed in to find a table in the near-empty common room. They ordered hot plates of potatoes and greens with a beef stew and a large tankard of ale. There were no worries about sleeping in the stables this night; the inn had rooms aplenty. When the meal was finished they retired to a large room with three beds, cleaned up at the washbasin, and lay down on something much softer than ground.
They got up early as usual and broke their fasts on milk, fresh bread, and bacon. Halam bought an extra loaf to replace their dry bread from Plowdon, and soon they were out the door and on their well-rested and fed horses, heading out of the gates. They traveled back the way they had come on the winding road heading toward the King’s Road, and were soon heading south once again.
Rodden was excited this morning.
“We’ll be in
“Oh, I suppose they do, but I wouldn’t think so unless they had to, at least that’s how I would feel about it.”
Bryn agreed. He couldn’t imagine trying to climb up these sheer faces, or climbing down the hundreds of straight feet with only a rope. Just looking up at them began to make his stomach queasy; he didn’t want to think how looking down from that height would make him feel.
“We’d best get back on the road,” Halam said as he climbed on Juniper for another day in the saddle. Bryn and Rodden did the same, and they rejoined the road, the same dreary plains on their left, but now with the majestic mountains on their right, rising higher and higher, taking away the boredom of the landscape.
The mountains followed them as they continued to move south. The peaks were never revealed due to the cloud cover, a swirling mass that kept the unimaginable heights from their gazes. Bryn could understand now why the Montinos had been left to themselves for much of Adjurian history; why would anyone want to tackle those mountains if they didn’t have to? It seemed ludicrous to him to think that the Regidians actually thought they could invade Montino during the first Adjurian Civil War. Did they actually think they could succeed in driving the people from their mountain homes? There were passes that made traversing the mountains easier, Bryn knew, but he couldn’ fathom how the sight of these jagged towers to either side of invading army could do anything but decrease morale.
They kept up a good pace, and Halam mentioned that if the weather stayed good, they’d reach Lindonis by nightfall. Little changed throughout the day, and few words were exchanged. Most conversation had been exhausted in the first couple of days. There was not much Bryn could say; his life had been so uneventful. Halam was not talking, his head on the business that was now little more than a day ahead of him, and Rodden had run out of topics touching on geography and history with which to test Bryn’s knowledge.
As the sun began to descend over the mountains, Halam led them off of the main road and down a smaller tract to their left. “It’ll be nice to have a hot meal tonight,” he said, the others quickly agreeing.
The road wound away from the mountains, but could not escape their towering gaze, and soon farmhouses and other settlements began to sprout from the plains around them. They saw more and more people, and then a large city was spread wide before them. Unlike Coria, Lindonis had walls made of large stones, with battlements evenly spaced along their length. A large gate was set in their center, an iron portcullis raised up around it. They entered the city, and Bryn thought that it was about the same as the other two he’d now seen on the journey. Market stalls were spread out here and there, people milled about on whatever business they had, while guards patrolled the streets, no doubt bored from their routine patrols.
They wound through the streets until arriving at an inn called the ‘ Peak’s Rest ’ where they handed their reins to the stable boy and headed in to find a table in the near-empty common room. They ordered hot plates of potatoes and greens with a beef stew and a large tankard of ale. There were no worries about sleeping in the stables this night; the inn had rooms aplenty. When the meal was finished they retired to a large room with three beds, cleaned up at the washbasin, and lay down on something much softer than ground.
They got up early as usual and broke their fasts on milk, fresh bread, and bacon. Halam bought an extra loaf to replace their dry bread from Plowdon, and soon they were out the door and on their well-rested and fed horses, heading out of the gates. They traveled back the way they had come on the winding road heading toward the King’s Road, and were soon heading south once again.
Rodden was excited this morning.
“We’ll be in
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