I Hear Howling In The Mountains

Home of Izira Nyte and The Forgotten Layers Inn. Resting in an unnamed magical realm, the place is easier to find when lost if one is without the aid of a map drawn by the lady herself.

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I Hear Howling In The Mountains

Post by Gren Blockman » Sat Aug 29, 2020 10:45 pm

June 1, 2019



Gren and Izira had made it home from the Sibreth vineyard the night before. Their adventure had physically and emotionally drained him, and Gren was grateful for a long night’s sleep in the familiar bed at the Inn. He had awoken before Izira, and crept downstairs to grab a cup of coffee. Rubbing his eyes, he absently took stock of the main room and bar area, making a mental checklist of chores that would need to be done due to his lengthy absence. He had just lifted his cup to his lips while deciding whether to clean the fireplace out first or not, when he heard a distant thoom thoom thoom sound. His eyes bugged out when it became louder, the THOOM THOOM THOOM being the telltale sound of a large beast approaching the Inn.

“BLOCKMAN GET OUT HERE.” A booming voice could be heard outside, and a milky green eye the size of a serving tray could be seen peering into one of the side windows of the main room.

Gren swallowed the wrong way, and coughed explosively, trying to pat his back and get his coffee to go down properly. Stumbling to his feet, he ran out the front door and gaped at what he saw.

An eighty foot long, scaly, spiky Black Dragon was now moving around to the front porch of the Inn. The beast slowly lowered its neck so that its large head would be level with Gren’s line of vision, and he bared rows of fangs in a wicked smile, some jagged and broken, but plenty of them whole enough to be wary of. “Greetings, Mister Blockman. I trust you remember me.”

“Ossah . . . ossah . . . oh-suh-suh-suh . . . . “ Gren tried to answer.

“OSSIDERAX. Cease fumbling your words, it annoys me. Yes, Ossiderax, also known as Ossiderax the Cruel, Ossiderax the Remorseless, and Ossiderax the Perilous. You DO recall our little . . . bargain, do you not?”

“Hey hey, look, we held up our end of the deal, don’t eat me . . . “ Gren cringed reflexively and held his arms over his head.

“OH STOP IT. First of all, I am well pleased at how things turned out. Watching that flabby toad, the so-called Emerald King, flapping his arms like an overstuffed chicken while spiraling into oblivion filled me with a satisfaction I have not felt in millennia. Second, I am aware of the rules of this . . . place in which you reside. I can bring no malicious intent aimed towards the inhabitants within. Considering the malevolence in my heart, that was a bit of a struggle, but I do believe I passed the test. HAHA! Now then, you do remember the stipulation to our bargain, hmm?”

Gren nodded dumbly, too afraid to speak.

“Silence,eh? At least it is better than you stammering like an idiot. In the interest of time, I will remind you. If you removed the Emerald King, I was, as the small Mage said, to leave those accursed waters behind forever. I knew that intolerable, flowery island for a ridiculously long amount of time. Now that I have my revenge, I am more than happy to abandon that insufferable world and find a new domicile, start a new chapter in my life. But unfortunately, I do not know how to go about locating a new world. So I contemplated the situation most keenly. I reasoned that you and the small Mage must have the ability to travel between worlds, since you popped in and out of mine so quickly. I followed your unmistakable stench of pine needles and stone cold panic, and found my way here. Eccch. How you beings can live above ground covered in twigs and glass is beyond me.” Ossiderax glanced over the structure of the Inn with a disapproving look.

Gren gulped and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “ME? Find you a new home? I can’t do . . How am I supposed to . . . “ Gren pictured Ossiderax barging into an unsuspecting world through a portal near the Inn, unleashing a rampage of fire and destruction on its poor, helpless inhabitants. “I won’t do it! You’ll just have to go back to where you came from!”

“I refuse to return to that place. If you decline to assist me in this endeavor, then I will just have to stay here until you do. Although I dislike it, I can wait patiently until you see reason.” Ossiderax circled the fountain in front of the Inn, the one with the winged woman with her hand out, then laid down around it, the white rose bushes smashed by his bulk with an audible CRUNCH.

“Aaaaah! Izira’s flowers! Oh she’s gonna be so mad! You gotta get outta here!” Gren said, exasperated.

“You have a destination in mind, Ranger? Hmm?” Ossiderax had his front paws extended out, and had lowered his head slightly to make eye contact with Gren.

Just then, a family of dwarves could be heard approaching the Inn from the west. “Oh what luck! Finally, to have found shelter after our long journey! I could eat a . . . . “ Here the father stopped and stared at the immense Black Dragon. “AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!” He and his family screamed simultaneously, and went running back up the path they came as fast as their legs could carry them.

Ossiderax calmly swiveled his head to watch the dwarves with a detached, nonchalant look at their fearful retreat.

“This is a nightmare! An absolute nightmare! I’m . . . I’m hyperventilating . . . I need a brown bag . . . “

“I can see you are wrestling with a moral dilemma. I am quite spent from my trip through worlds, so I will take a nap. Wake me when you are ready to do as I ask.” Ossiderax lowered his large head to the ground and closed his eyes. Soon curls of mist rose from his nostrils as he snoozed.

Gren stood with his hands clenched in his hair, wondering how he was going to get out of this one. He couldn’t have a Black Dragon sleeping on their front lawn for obvious reasons, but how could he justify sending him off to some other world to wreak havoc? “Oh Lord, what am I going to do? Are we stuck with Ossiderax the Cruel, the Remorseless, the Peril . . . “ Gren stopped and his eyes got wide as he recalled something.

“Perilous”, he said. “Ahmicilla.”

tbc . . .
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Re: I Hear Howling In The Mountains

Post by Gren Blockman » Fri Sep 04, 2020 8:53 pm

December 18, 2017



A year and a half before Ossiderax’s visit to the Inn, Gren was exploring the forest in its pocket realm. He wondered if one day he might find some humanoid form of life that was indigenous to it, but during the four years or so he had been there, all the people he had found were from other worlds. Anything was possible, he thought, as he looked at the sun on that bright morning. The day before it had rained hard, and the ground was still muddy. He was so busy staring at the beautiful, clear winter sky that he nearly tripped over the dead body lying there in the grass.

He stopped and stared, as if taken aback by its sudden appearance. It was a young man who looked like an elf, due to his pointy ears, but his skin was deeply tanned, and his long hair dark brown. His clothing was light blue and was covered with reddish dirt. There were multiple slash marks across his body, some deep, and a pool of blood underneath him as if he bled out where he lay. His left hand limply held a weathered brown journal. Gren knelt next to him, his eyes rapidly searching his body as if looking for some sign of life, until he had to admit to himself the person had long been deceased.

Gently, he took the journal from the man’s hand. He thought maybe he could learn something about who he was. He flipped open the cover, and saw a thin necklace with a green leaf made out of emeralds. He briefly admired the stunning piece of jewelry before turning to the first page that had writing.

Journal of Nerrleng “Nerr” Leafrunner

Day 1

I call it this, because the world ended yesterday. The one we used to know.

We spent the night running for our lives. The volcanoes that appeared around the Golden City were alive with fire. We got out with the Princess and whoever was brave enough to come with us. We watched the men with vacant, devastated looks and the women weeping in the streets as we filed out into the Wildlands. I tried to block out the tragedy, the destruction, the helplessness.

I’m one of the lucky ones. Because I have a plan. I think for that reason alone, the others decided to follow me. Not that I wanted to be the leader. That should be the Princess. But she’s not able right now. And I don’t think anyone with a heart of compassion would blame her.

As the Red Mist falls around us, I can’t help but acknowledge that the Warlocks have won. They have destroyed the Golden City. But we can rebuild, if I can just get to the Sacred Ground.



Day 4

I held the Princess in my arms all night as she cried. Not full weeping, but the sobs of someone exhausted. I look around at the camp, and I see three dozen or so faces. Most of them look haggard, fearful, confused. This won’t be easy.

My days as a Leafrunner benefit me greatly. I know the Glens and Vales. Most of the survivors with me can’t move at half my pace, so I spend my energy encouraging them and trying to make the path ahead as simple as possible.

The route to the Sacred Ground is long, though. I don’t think they can make it. I might have to find a safe place for them. That sounds like the punch line to a bad joke. I can’t imagine anywhere being safe in this new world.



Day 7

All day we heard it. Faintly, but there. Howling.

The Lords Above only know what inhuman creation the Warlocks have conjured to terrorize us now. As fearful as the people were before, they’re positively frightened now. We can’t go on. We have to find shelter. I know a place. It took some convincing the Princess. She wants the safety of the Sacred Ground, not some temporary reprieve that might not be so temporary. I point out the old, the sick, the children. Reluctantly, she changes her mind. “You just saved their lives”, I told her.


Day 11

The shore of the Grey Sea appears before us. Beyond is the Isle of Clouds. Not exactly the most cheerful place, but it is secluded and protected by the waters. “This is as good as we’ll get”, I tell the Princess. I help them lash logs together for makeshift rafts before the Suns set. Its better to wait until morning, The Lords Above only know what could be waiting for us in those waters at night.

I had one more task to perform for our people. I visited the Princess in her tent. I told her that the people would be safe on the Isle for now. But with all the devastation we had witnessed over the last eleven days, there was no guarantee that the Sacred Ground even existed anymore. Honestly, I had only been there once, and saw it from afar. Could we make a trek like that, through all that territory, and arrive only to find it obliterated? It was a sobering thought.

‘So what are you suggesting?” The Princess asked.

I told her I would make the journey alone. Scout out a safe route. Make sure we weren’t walking into a trap, or a fool’s errand. Then I would return and lead us all to safety.

She cried and begged me not to go. But she knew I was right. We made love that night. Perhaps that was rash of us, me being a commoner and she being royalty, but in times like these, you have to live when you can.

She thanked me for everything I did, and gave me her emerald necklace. Then she bade me a safe journey.


Day 15

The Red Mist is everywhere and water is scarce. I’ve had to run from more monsters than I can count. I can’t even tell you how I got this far. The Lords Above watch over me. If it wasn’t for the Princess . . . .


Day 18

I am too weary to think straight, let alone write. So forgive my scratchings. But I have done it. I sit here by an old stone well, deep in the mountains. I can barely see my hand writing on the page, the Mist is so thick now. But . . . for a few brief moments . . . a wind blew through and lifted the Mist just enough for me to look in the sky and see . . . the Sacred Ground. The Perilous Peak lies nearby as well. All the gold of the Princess’ family. We can start over.

If I can make it back. I am at my limits. And that infernal howling has returned. Closer, here in the mountains, all around me . . .


And then finally, in hurried, sloppy letters:

I hear howling in the mountains.

tbc . . .
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Re: I Hear Howling In The Mountains

Post by Gren Blockman » Wed Sep 30, 2020 9:25 am

Gren found a roughly sketched map within the journal, labeled “Ahmicilla”, showing the basic locations of the points of interest that Nerr had talked about. He traced his finger along the route from the stone well and the Sacred Ground to the Isle of Clouds. He signed and shut the journal, thinking. It took Nerr seven days, through dangerous conditions, to get to the Sacred Ground. It seemed more than unlikely that Gren would be able to make the same trip through unfamiliar territory, carrying a dead body no less. Perhaps he could bury Nerr close by the well. Then he could assess the situation and see if he could get a message to his people somehow. It was better than nothing, anyway.

Gren returned to the Inn and procured the tools he would need for the job. He found a shovel, a scarf for the mist, some rations of beef jerky and dried fruit, and his trusty staff and sword. He tucked the necklace and journal he found in his pocket in case he found someone to return it to. He gave Izira a kiss for good luck, then went back to Nerr. He wrapped the body in a sheet, then slung it over his shoulder. He tracked Nerr’s path back to the portal he entered there in the muddy meadow, and vanished into it with a burst of blue light.

Even though he had read the journal, he was still unprepared for what he found on the other side. He was immediately blasted with red, sandy winds, causing him to cough and quickly wrap his mouth with the scarf. He shielded his eyes with his free hand, and tried to get his bearings. Every few moments, the wind would die down enough for him to see, and he spotted the old stone well off to his right. There was a low hill behind it, and he carried Nerr there. He gingerly laid the body down, then pulled out his shovel, and grunting, began to dig a hole.

The wind was fierce, and the ground rocky. He looked up during his task, and managed to see a sparkling grove of trees off in the distance, high above the Red Mist. He also saw a tall, grey peak that must have been the Perilous Peak that Nerr spoke of. Soon, he had a deep enough grave, and he placed the body there. As he was almost finished replacing the soil, he began to hear faint noises, the sound of howling. Gren perked up, and looked around, but unfortunately the sandy wind and the surrounding mountains made it almost impossible to see anything. He hurriedly tried to finish his job as the howling grew, and surrounded him. It’s time for me to go, he thought, and he ran from the hill back to the stone well.

Out of the sandy mist, Gren saw a horrific sight spring out at him. It was a monster that had the face and body of a wolf, but had eight shiny legs like a spider. The creature howled and barked at him, before charging towards him with bared fangs. Gren used his shovel to try to keep the monster at bay, swinging at its head. The wolfspider gnashed its teeth and swung its legs at Gren, the tips slashing across his chest. Gren cried out in pain, but thankfully the wounds weren’t deep. He backpedaled and dodged around the creature, as more of them began to pour out of the mountains and race towards him. He lost his shovel, but Gren was able to pull out his staff and keep the lead creature back. His grey cloak was shredded, and he sustained several cuts on his legs and arms, before he finally fought his way to the spot where the portal was. Completely surrounded, he finally fell backwards with a flash of blue light and back into the Inn’s realm. He lay down on the ground, panting and wincing. The wards of the realm thankfully did their job, and none of the wolfspiders followed him. Remind me never to go back to Ahmicilla, he thought to himself as he painfully rolled to his feet.

But now it seemed he would have to.



tbc . . .
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Re: I Hear Howling In The Mountains

Post by Gren Blockman » Fri Oct 02, 2020 10:39 am

Back to the present . . .


“Ossiderax! Um, Ossiderax, sir . . . Your Malevolence . . . “ At the memory of Ahmicilla, Gren ran up to the sleeping Dragon, then stopped short, not wanting to touch him out of fear. “Please wake up, sir . . . “

“Hmmmmm?” Ossiderax half-opened one scaly eyelid and rolled his pupil in Gren’s direction.

“I have a place . . . KNOW a place! I know a world that you can go to! It’s called Ahmicilla, and there’s this mountain called the Perilous Peak! Just like your nickname! And it’s supposed to be full of elvish treasure! I’m sure there’s lots of gold there for you to sleep on. In. Around.” He made vague gestures with his hands.

Ossiderax continued staring at him with one half open eye, not moving until Gren stopped speaking. Then his eye completely opened, then narrowed. “I sense there is something you’re not telling me.”

Gren gulped and soldiered on. “Well . . . . it’s kind of . . . overrun. With wolfspiders. That the Warlocks created. That and the . . . uh . . . red, sandy wind. But you’ll be in the Peak, remember.”

Ossiderax then wholly opened his eyes and lifted his head to stare fully at Gren. “What a bizarre tale. However, and intriguing one. I will visit this Perilous Peak. Perhaps it is just what I’m looking for.”

Gren raised an index finger. “Let me go get ready!” He hurriedly ran into the Inn, then put on his grey cloak, got his scarf for the wind, and loaded some dry rations into a backpack. He then led Ossiderax out to the meadow where he had found Nerr’s body.

“Okay, the portal was right here. Now maybe we should be careful about this . . . “ Gren began, but Ossiderax stomped right through without stopping. Gren sighed, then trotted to keep up with the dragon and entered Ahmicilla as well. He was immediately hit with the red, swirling winds, and quickly lifted his scarf to keep it out of his nose and mouth.

“Let me get my bearings first, I remember right over here was . . . “ A sudden barking and howling could be heard, and Gren reflexively pulled out his staff.

Ossiderax growled, and a green flame began to pour from between his bared teeth. He opened his maw and those flames shot forth, engulfing the first wave of wolfspiders that were charging towards them. When one got too close, Ossiderax closed his fangs around its body, causing it to squeal in pain. He then shook his head and flung it into another group that was sneaking up on them from the right. He delivered another wall of flame, and any wolfspiders that were left skittered off, squealing and howling in fright. Ossiderax then turned his head towards Gren, and exposing bloody fangs, gave him a wicked smile. “No challenge at all. Now where is this Perilous Peak?”

Gren momentarily stood, stunned at Ossiderax’ quick victory, but then a lifting of the sandy wind exposed the grey peak off in the distance. “There!” Gren said, pointing his finger. “Uh . . . there is a small problem though. I can’t get up there with you . . . unless you let me ride you up?” Gren smiled sheepishly and hopefully.

Ossiderax thundered back. “WHAT? Let you ride me like I am some mere beast of burden? Grrrrrr. But I see the logic in your request. I will allow it for now. But under no circumstances are you tell anyone of this. Agreed?”

Gren frantically nodded yes.



tbc . . .
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Re: I Hear Howling In The Mountains

Post by Gren Blockman » Sun Oct 04, 2020 8:01 pm

Ossiderax slowly lowered his body so that Gren could scramble onto his scaly back. Wrapping his arms around Ossiderax’ neck, Gren held on tight as the dragon beat his mighty wings and lifted into the air. Climbing higher into the sandy atmosphere, the dragon finally broke through the offending winds and into clear, pure sky. Gren stopped narrowing his eyes and looked out at the blue morning. It could almost be called beautiful if it wasn’t for the chaos below. He could see many volcanoes in the distance belching out hot lava and flames. He focused on his present concern, the Perilous Peak, which they were quickly approaching. The sheer faces of the peak could be seen, and it looked near impossible to scale by hand. At the very top there was a small, rocky clearing. Ossiderax sailed towards the landing point, and flared his wings to slow his speed. Once they had touched down, Gren slid from his position back to the ground. They saw a giant door made of two slabs of enormous rock leading into the mountain. As they approached, they noticed there was no handle, knob, or anything resembling a way to open it. Gren thought while he peered around for an answer.

“Well? What now, Mister Blockman?” Ossiderax rumbled at Gren.

Gren cringed back. “Hold on, I’m thinking. Don’t make me more nervous than I already am. Wait a minute . . . I forgot! I brought Nerr’s Journal with me!” Gren pulled the weather beaten brown journal from beneath his cloak. Rapidly flipping through the pages, he saw a sketch of the doors of the Perilous Peak, and down and to the right of them, there was a rock with a handprint on it. “That must be it”, he said, and he searched the scrub near the door until he found what looked like a flat rock with a narrow handprint embedded in it. “There you are, just press that and it should do the trick.”

Ossiderax stared incredulously at Gren for a few moments. “Well? Go ahead and press it then.”

Gren blinked then touched his hand to his chest. “Me? Why do I have to do it?”

Ossiderax snarled. “Why do you think? Do my hands look like that?” He lifted up his scaly hand with its razor sharp claws for emphasis.

Gren gulped then looked down at the handprint. “Well . . . I guess I could give it a try.” Gren hesitantly reached out his fingers, alternately pulling back, then reaching forward, as if afraid to touch the stone.

“Get on with it already!” Ossiderax bellowed.

Gren squeezed his eyes shut, then pressed his palm to the rock. Nothing happened. He noticed his hand was too big for the print on the stone. “Did it open?” He said, still with his eyes closed.

“NO it didn’t open! Grrrrr!!! I came all the way into this catastrophe of a world for THIS? I oughta gobble you up for my supper!!!” Ossiderax glared down at Gren, green fire beginning to seep from between his pointed fangs.

“WAIT! Wait wait wait! Uhhh . . . . “ Gren hurriedly searched the pages of the journal, then brightened as he found something. “It says here that it is the Royal Elven family treasure. So that probably means that only a member of the Royal Elven family can open the door.”

”And pray tell, where are we supposed to find someone that fits that description in this calamitous ruin we find ourselves in?”

Gren perused the journal some more, then fingered the emerald green leaf necklace. “The Princess. At the Isle of Clouds.”

“The Isle of Clouds.” Ossiderax repeated, as if trying to find something wrong with that answer.


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Re: I Hear Howling In The Mountains

Post by Gren Blockman » Sun Oct 18, 2020 8:11 pm

Gren remained calm for a moment, then suddenly got a panicked look on his face. “Wait! We can’t go there! What if the Princess is still alive?”

“ARE YOU TELLING ME WHAT I CAN AND CAN’T DO?” Ossiderax thundered at him.

Gren raised his hands defensively. “But if she’s still alive, how is she going to react to a Dragon? A Dragon that wants to take her rightful treasure?”

Ossiderax leaned dangerously close to Gren. “I don’t give a damn about your morality OR your moral quandary for that matter. I can SMELL that gold, Blockman. I will not be denied this close to my newfound home. If it makes you feel better, she’s probably long dead by now. This world is a complete nightmare, if you haven’t noticed. Just the way I like it, I might add. Now you can stay up here all by yourself, at least until the wolfspiders find you, or you can guide me to the Isle of Clouds.”

Gren gulped, looked around fearfully, then covered his eyes with his hand. “Alright.”

Mounting the dragon’s back again, Gren went sailing up into the air towards the distant North. As he watched the swirling Red Mist below, he inwardly cringed at the situation he had caused. What was he going to say to the Princess if she was still alive? Sorry I brought another evil creature into a world of evil creatures for you to deal with. Oh and by the way, he wants your family treasure, hope it’s not a bother. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, trying to formulate in his mind some kind of reasonable explanation.



June 2, 2019




Ossiderax flew through the day and well into the night. Being a dragon mighty in magic, he was able to fly for longer, although near the end it was draining even his considerable power. Soon they saw the Red Mist part, and what must have been the Grey Sea beneath them. In the distance, there was a rocky mountain of an Isle sticking upwards from the waters. Ossiderax glided to the Isle and landed on the shore. He flared his wings and stretched his arms and legs. “I have not flown that far in quite some time. I will need to rest for a while. Go on and see what you can find.” Ossiderax then squatted down on his haunches as if relaxing.

Gren pointed at himself. “Me? What do you want me to say to them?” Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tanned elven face pop up from behind a rock. He turned to look, and the person was squinting at him. When the person caught Gren’s movements, they quickly ducked behind the rock again.

Gren looked at Ossiderax for a moment, then back at the rock. “Ummm . . . Good Morning? Is this the Isle of Clouds?”

He got no answer.

“We mean you no harm”, Gren continued.

“At least not yet”, Ossiderax rumbled, although mainly to Gren.

The elf slowly peeked one eye around the rock as if trying to judge whether Gren was telling the truth or not.

“We would like to speak to the Princess. If we could.” He paused. “Nerr sent us.”


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Re: I Hear Howling In The Mountains

Post by Gren Blockman » Thu Oct 29, 2020 8:09 pm

At that, the elf appeared fully, with an open mouth of shock. “You know Nerr? Where is he? Who are you?”

“Hey, one question at a time”, Gren replied. “Besides . . . I think that’s something we should discuss with the Princess.”

“Yes! The Princess will want to hear of this! I’ll tell the Princess!” The young elf went scurrying behind his rock and off into the Isle.

Gren raised a finger as if to make another comment, but the elf was already gone. He looked at Ossiderax and shrugged.

After a while, a small group of elves appeared from the rocky mountain and moved towards the beach. In the lead was a young elvish woman with braided brunette hair that went down her back. She had a simple golden circlet around her forehead, and a modest, sleeveless dress of white. Her almond shaped eyes looked a bit apprehensively at Ossiderax, before landing fully on Gren.

“Greetings, I am the Princess Tammitha of the Golden City of Ahmicilla.”

“Hello, I am Gren Blockman. This is Ossiderax the . . . uh . . . Dragon.” Gren said, deciding not to use one of Ossiderax’s evil nicknames.

The Princess’ eyes returned briefly to the massive dragon, before flipping to Gren again.
“I hear you have word from Nerr. Please, tell me what happened.” The Princess’ face now betrayed a hint of worry and care.

Gren remembered what Nerr’s journal said, about them being lovers. He put his head down for a moment before answering her. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but Nerr died. We buried him . . . “

Before Gren could finish, the others in the Princess’ entourage began to groan and wail in sadness and despair. The Princess covered her face with a shaky hand and looked as if she was going to faint. Gren stepped forward quickly and caught her. “That cannot be . . . I don’t believe it . . . “, she cried.

“Princess, please. I know this is hard. But look.” Gren reached his hand into his cloak pocket and withdrew the necklace with the leaf made of emeralds.

The Princess’ ran a finger across it. “So it is true.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Oh Nerr. And what will become of us now.”

Gren placed the necklace in Tammitha’s hand. “Princess, I know this is hard news. But I do have some good. Nerr found the Sacred Ground. We came from near there.”

The Princess lifted her almond shaped eyes to Gren at that. “Can it be true? My people have suffered so much here. Very little food and surrounded by evil creatures. My child . . . “ Here she trailed off, before gathering her resolve again. “Can you . . . can you take us there? Take us away from here?” She looked between Ossiderax and Gren hopefully.

“Oh yes . . . but for a price.” Ossiderax answered before Gren could.



tbc . . .
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