Chapter One: Sweet Dreams are Made of These

[Rezantis]

Rez paused, then quickly choked down his mouthful of food.

"You saw something?"

[Brian]

"The army," Liandril says, scowling.  "They will block our approach -- how can they move through sunlight?"  He balls a hand into a fist and strikes one thigh angrily.  "First the trap to stop us from reaching the keep, and now this.  The oracle said things that seemed impossible, but now I fear are only inevitable.  Madame Mirallia, we cannot pass this way.  We must go the long way around, and I do not know if we will have the time we need to make such a journey."

[Dracos]

"We must.  It is as simple as that.  Remind me though what the oracle said?  As we walk though, if time is short, we should not tarry."

Dracos

[Brian]

"The oracle speaks to and of the Archons, for she has no great love for us ... but she said to them: 'And lo, through the deeping days of dark in winter, when the night of dread draws near, it shall mark the end of an era, and there shall be one hundred years and one hundred days left for the rule of the Archonae.'

"Of course," he spits, "they will go through us, first."

He says nothing else, turning and stomping off through the snow.

The lady seems a bit preturbed, but shakes her head.  "If we haven't the time, we haven't the time.  Tell me of the pass ... the pass you spoke of earlier."

[Huitzil]

He whispers no longer when he speaks.

"Isengard has been unleashed... black shapes crawling..."

He sharply inhales and grits his teeth.

"An army of that size doesn't organize itself, and they wouldn't be sent out without a target to siege. They aren't looking for us, so that much is in our favor. But they're probably headed out to the same place we are --" and as if it just came to him, he adds "-- because they are a dread march, right?"

He waits a few seconds, then continues, still talking to himself more than anyone else. "So, they are ahead of us, and we need to outrun them. If they're going to the same place we are, eventually their... their host has to turn in the direction of this Keep. They can't be laid across every path we could take, because they have to be laid on at least one. We may very well be able to kind of... go next to them. See where they turn toward Stormwall, and take the next exit. It may be the long way around, but, not much longer than the way they are taking.

"Of course, we still need to outrun them. A few individuals can run faster than an army that has to wait for its slowest members, but they have a head start... and we can't just get there five minutes ahead, that won't do any good."

[Brian]

Liandril stops at this, and looks back over his shoulder.

"That ... if they were not so far ahead of us, we could try.  But they are ahead of us."

"And the other pass?" the lady reminds the elf.

"That way is certain death," he says slowly.

"But Borin made it.  Why can't we?"

Liandril looks vaguely haunted, and turns to look at everyone in turn before licking his lips and turning to stare at his feet.  "It ... there ... there are two paths through the depths of that passage.  One leads to ... whatever it was that made Hadrick fall.  The other is  by no means safe, but has been made before."

"Very well," the lady says authoritatively.  "We shall take the less dangerous path."

"That ... is the problem.  There are two paths, yes, but that place ... changes.  Which is safe, and which is not ... is different every time.  This is an evil place, and we should not go.  Safer, I think, to climb the mountains, and brave what wakens in the depths of winter on their peaks than pass beneath."

The lady nods again.  "We shall divide our forces, then.  If we shall fall, we shall fall.  But some of us absolutely must reach the keep.  If we fail, then we fail.  But if we do not even try, then Hamar himself cannot redeem us, and we shall never be permitted to walk past the towers of the sunset."

[Rezantis]

"I don't like the idea of splitting up the group when there's already so few of us . . . how far from here is that pass?"

[Dracos]

"I'll take the dead road and ye take the long road, and we'll meet again in the morning... Myself...Rezantis...and the lorekeeper will brave the path.  Risk no more than three.  The rest of you should move with all speed down the other path.  Liandril, tell us all that we can know about the path and what must be done when we reach the other side."

Dracos

[Huitzil]

"No. We don't split up. Maybe in the world of airplanes and coal mines, but not this place. Here, we stick together."

[Brian]

Liandril looks vexed at this.  "Sir Bloom?  What is 'Rezantis'?  And as I said before, I do not know how to tell the paths apart."

[Dracos]

"Sorry, a nickname for Nathan.  I did not mean that.  I meant could you quickly recount the legend involved in it, and what needs to be done when we arrive at the other side of the path and head towards the keep."

Dracos

[Brian]

"Legend?" Liandral says skeptically.  "The pass was once a path to the gates to the southern kingdom.  The road to the Archonae.  But the Dreadmarch sought to take it for their own use, an age ago.

"The defenders of the Stormwall ... called something dark and terrible there.  Something to stop the Dreadmarch.  But it stopped much more than that.

"That place has fallen to darkness long ago.  No one alive yet knows what was summoned, only that it was dangerous.  Very dangerous.  It serves no one, listens to no reason, and none who have faced it live to tell the tale.

"Long ago, when another party of runners had to make the run before the Dreadmarch, Borin attempted the pass.  He was successful, but spoke of dark things that fell into the pass, and he said ... as the passages are near one-another ... he could hear something.  Something great and huge in the other passage.  Many of his retainers fell battling ... things he would not speak of until the day he died.

"I believe Nathan could recount the tale best, but as you say ... his forefather attempted to fight whatever lay before.  Hadrick, who slew three of the Dreadmarch generals in his day, and was gifted by the Archonae the first sword -- the King of Swords, it was said.

"But even so mighty a man with so great a blade ... did not return from his attempt.  Now, it is disrespectful to tell the tale of Hadrick's folly -- of Hadrick's FALL.  That place is dangerous ... but if we each take one path, one half of us may yet survive to see the walls of Stormwall Keep."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn has kept silent up to this point, watching the horizon around them even more intently since Dracos has brought the news.  Armies have scouts, and sweep-riders, and it wouldn't do to be caught at this point.

But now he looks back over his shoulder, a slight smile quirking his lips before his face falls serious again.  "We don't have much choice," he observes.  "We can't risk all of us falling along the dark path.  I think, though, that Master Liandral and m'Lady should travel in seperate groups."  He flicks his eyes meaningfully towards the rest of the group, and then again around this strange world, trying to communicate by body language, We don't know where we are.  "But we can discuss that along the way.  For now, we need to reach the pass."

[Brian]

The lady nods in approval, and begins to walk towards the east -- back the way you came.  Liandral sighs, but follows quickly.

[Bjorn]

This time, Bjorn does not lead the lady, but follows, instead, continually glancing back over his shoulder for signs of movement.

A sudden shifting in his pack reminds him, and he furrows his brow.  Mental note: next time we pause for a rest, see if I can read any of that book I picked up.  Might be informative.