Abode's Volunteers

The dragons milled cautiously about on the floor of the giant-sized amphitheater. Their different colors clashed with one another almost as much as their voices, as larger dragons pushed aside smaller ones, and older ones intimidated younger ones. They spoke to one another, in a language no humanoid throat could produce, as deep and penetrating as the depths of the oceans.

A red dragon, larger than any other, descended from the heavens to the rim of the amphitheater, his primary wings spread as far as a bowman could fire. His secondary wings beat slowly and languidly for a moment, stabilizing the dragon's landing. The fore-claws gouged into the ledge of the amphitheater as easily as a knife might gouge soft lead. His rear claws sunk into the granite of the bowl's rim dozens of feet.

The other dragons moved aside and formed a path, allowing their larger cousin to pass into the center of the circle unmolested. Unnoticed on a cliff-side near the amphitheater, two figures watched those events unfold.

One was an elf, perhaps an inch under six feet tall. He wore travel-worn, brown and green leathers over his richly tanned skin. His rope-like muscles were thickened with tension and nervousness. His pointed ears poked from pale blonde hair, pulled back in a pony-tail down his back. War-braids fell upon his chest, as he kneeled beside a boulder.

Across his back was a large ash bow, perhaps as thick as the elf's large wrist. At his sides hung a long-sword for his right hand, and a short-sword for his left. His equipment was either leather or steel, and each piece of it indicated utilitarian purposes, telling for all who would look that the elf cared nothing for decorations, only for practicality -- and stealth.

The elf's companion was a human, wearing thick, brown leather armor. His awl-pike leaned casually against the cliff-side. His short-sword was loose in its scabbard, even though he knew it would do little against the thick, scaled hides of the dragons he observed.

The human signaled the elf, his gesture indicating a question. The elf's auburn, almost red-colored eyes, never wavered from the dragons; but, after a moment, he nodded, and crept slowly backwards.

Shivering with more than the cold, the human backed away, as well, and moved away from the amphitheater. After some climbing, the human whispered quietly, "Lander, I don't like this. That was Azhritol! He's supposed to be on the Northern front, attacking Duke Peri's armies. What's he doing this far West?"

Lander's baby-smooth, tanned cheeks were drawn into a half-smile. "I'd tell you if I knew, Kalvek. Let's head back, double-time, and see if someone else can make any sense of this."

Kalvek nodded, and matched Lander's mad pace down the cliff-side, sending the occasional shower of rocks down the hundred foot drops.

After some hours of fast descent, they reached a semi-protected valley held by the mountain. Lander whistled, and then said, "Recon platoon, report!"

A bush near Lander stood up, and the human said, "Corporal Delvin, sir! Two blues and a green dragon flew North by North-West, sir; other than that, nothing."

Lander glanced at his lieutenant, and Kalvek said, "Probably a raiding party; they might be headed for Aliceston."

Lander nodded, and said, "Corporal, fall in, double-time. Azhritol's here, and it looks like he has close to sixteen wings of dragons. Double-time back to camp!"

The corporal saluted, and said, "Yessir! Men, fall in, and double-time it home!" More bushes moved, as did small shrubs, mats of grass, and even one gnarled pine tree. Excessive camouflage was dropped, and the platoon of men headed out at a strong pace, lead by the elf, Lander.

More hours later, they were near the bottom of the mountain. Lander came to a cliff-side, and glanced over it. His sharp-eyed glance saw little, and so he checked the silk rope, left strung through the piton. It held, and he quickly attached it to his leather harness. Repelling down the rope, he continued to scan the land with a hunter's eyes.

The land looked gaunt, to him. Dragons consumed incredible amounts of game, to fuel their huge wings and horrid bodies. What little escaped their claws became food for the starving predators, be it prey or predator itself. Even some of the trees had been stripped by the desperately hungry dragons.

As soon as Lander hit the bottom, something rustled in the bushes. Lander squatted, slowly drawing both swords with deliberation. Either the animal would attack him in hunger, or run away; there would be no other outcome.

A moment later, a tan-colored form burst from the bushes. Its hunger had driven it to amazing speeds, and it caught Lander off-guard. The mountain lion's teeth sunk deeply into his left forearm, and its claws penetrated his leather, cutting deeply into him. Caught by surprise, Lander was vulnerable. The mountain lion had made a mistake, though; it had caught its teeth in the leather bracer on Lander's forearm. Confused, the mountain lion continued to rake its prey with its claws, before managing to pull its teeth from the blood and leather.

Behind Lander, the elf heard the thump of feet hitting the ground, as another soldier had come to the end of the rope. The elf also heard the drawing of steel, but it was too late; his own short-sword jabbed the big cat in the belly, causing it to yowl in pain. The mountain lion jerked away, instantly looking to spring back at Lander. The long-sword completed its arc, as the short-sword held the attention of the cat's eyes; the head severed neatly, and bounced away from the twitching body.

A pair of strong, gentle hands helped Lander to the ground, and the call sounded back up the rope for a medic. The elf attempted to reach for his healing kit, but it was already gone, as one soldier began rubbing down his arm in alcohol. It stung, and it burned, but not nearly so much as the tears in Lander's eyes.

The war had waged for nearly a year, already, and it was tearing the land apart. Hurt so badly, even the land itself was taking on the characteristics of its butchers. And this is just the Western front of the war, he thought to himself.

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, a sailing fleet sprinted across the frothy blue and white waters of the ocean. Under full sail, the timbers groaned with repressed agony, forced to hold together even when they must fly apart. Priests supplied the wind, and wizards held the ships together.

The fleet, crewed by short-statured men, with golden skin and dark, slanted eyes, moved at a terrific pace. The flagship, her dozens of sails straining, flew a cream-colored flag with a large oak tree at its center.

Up in the crow's nest of the flagship, a solitary figure peered into the distances with a spyglass. His ears were pointed, marking him as an elf. Other than the ears, and his odd musculature, he was indistinguishable from the humans on board. As the wind ran through his raven-black hair, he suddenly changed positions, looking in another direction.

A second figure crawled into the nest. The human was quiet for a moment, and waited for the elf to turn his older, slanted eyes to him. When the elf did, the human nodded, and said, "Captain Gura, the Admiral is preparing for dinner, and he wishes you to join him."

Gura nodded. "When?" His voice was soft, yet it carried easily over the wind.

The human said, "At sunset, Captain."

The elf nodded, and said, "Thank you; inform the Admiral that I look forward to his company at sunset."

Again, the human nodded, and crawled over the lip of the crow's nest, and quickly clambered down.

Gura turned his spyglass behind him, to the other ships in the fleet. Eight thousand galleons, carrying close to two-hundred and fifty-thousand men stretched behind him as far as the eye could see. He whispered into the wind, "May you have good news, this eve, my Admiral."

* * *

The elf leapt backwards, barely missing the viscious swipe of the zombie's claws. He kicked it twice in the rib cage, spun around, and brought both long-swords down onto the zombie's shoulders, slicing off its arms. The thing continue to move closer, trying to bite the elf. Someone else's crossbow bolt slammed into the zombie, and it fell in a heap of rotting flesh. The someone proved to be a human, and she said, "There's too many of them, Gundar! We have to fall back!"

Gundar whirled, and his blond, leather-braided hair followed a moment later. He looked out over the battle-field with weary gray eyes from his little knoll. Skeletons and zombies were like a sea of darkness against the gray-lit hills, in the twilight. At the far end of the moving tide of undead, he could see the flaming bodies of the balors, and pin-prick pairs of light that were liches.

The elf whirled again, and saw how few his pitiful army numbered. Living flesh against unliving flesh; and when one lost, it became the other, swelling the ranks of the enemy.

He called, "Fall back!" to his squadron, and began skirting the battle. Gundar and his men would serve as flanking troops, while the majority of the infantry pulled back. His six-foot, heavily muscled frame was drenched in sweat, and his chest heaved, as he goaded his troops, and attacked his enemies.

We can't take much more of this, he thought. Undead, here in the North. Dragons and their kin in the West. The denizens of the sea to the East and South. We're hemmed in, with nowhere to go. "Move that fat ass, Henry!" He whirled, splintered two skeletons simultaneously, and then moved, himself, as fast as his long legs would carry him.

* * *

Shameth sprawled across ten thousand acres. The mobile city bustled with all manor of humanoids, from humans to dwarves, to orcs to ogres. Old enmities died hard, with scuffles and even the occasional death continuing between tents, or at night.

Shameth was completely mobile, and moved almost constantly, from one front to another. Mages, wizards, sorcerers, clerics, and priests all worked together, along with the dozens of races, to maintain security, and provide defense and additional mobility.

The main pavilion was a single tent that enclosed two-hundred acres. Inside of it, the daily activity of the city was spelled out or shouted out, with orders given and received. The clamor was far more than would be found in even the largest, permanent city. But those had already fallen, or were staging grounds for other attacks.

The world of Abode was afire with the flames of war.

Lander strode into camp, and immediately headed for the supply tent, to appropriate some food. His platoon had reinforced a strong-hold nearly three days' march West of Shameth, but he would have to receive his orders from the heart of the Alliance itself. Lander was only one-hundred paces from the supply tent, when a man with lieutenant's braids on his shoulders quickly stepped in front of him, and saluted.

"Captain Lander Corinsith?" the lieutenant asked.

Lander tried to walk around the human, but was quickly blocked. "Yeah? What?" he asked, as he grudgingly returned a rather sloppy salute.

"Sir, I have orders that all Rangers are to report to the main pavilion, sir." The lieutenant handed Captain Lander a folded sheet of vellum, and then headed back into the crowd.

Lander glanced over it, long enough to know that it was writing; Lander Corinsith was illiterate. But then, he thought, So's most of the army.

On the other side of Shameth, Gura stepped smartly down the dock, and began searching for the Admiral. The fleet had just put ashore, and the sailors and soldiers aboard had begun to help the dock army to unload the ships of needed supplies and weapons. He was several inches taller than the average for his people, though he felt dwarfed by the sheer numbers of them.

One of the light-skinned, light-eyed, light-haired locals cleared his throat, and asked him a question in his funny Western language. The human was wearing mid-level clothing, indicating the rank of lieutenant or captain. The local asked him something again in his fast and choppy language, and Gura waved his flat hand, indicating he did not understand.

The human went away, while Gura continued to search for the Admiral. The elf found him, just as the local lieutenant or captain did. The local asked a question of the Admiral in that strange language, and the Admiral replied in it. A short interchange went on, and Gura felt that he was at the heart of it. When the conversation ended, the Admiral called out to one of his golden-skinned sailors, and explained something to him.

The local human nodded at the Admiral, and the Admiral returned the nod. To Gura, he said in the sweeter, more musical language of home, "All Rangers have been called to the Main Pavilion, Captain Gura. This man," and he indicated the sailor, "Is Loukin. He speaks the local language, and is to serve as your interpreter."

Gura nodded to the Admiral, and then to Loukin. "I thank you, Admiral."

The Admiral returned the nod, and turned away to address another Captain.

Loukin studied Gura for a moment, and then asked, "Which way is the Main Pavilion?"

Gura looked around, but there were so many other pavilions and large tents, he could not even see the main one -- and even if he could have, it was a mile away. He eventually replied, "I do not know. Shall we strike out in this direction, and see if we cannot find a local who knows?"

Loukin nodded. "Yessir."

As they threaded through the crowds in what was generally the right direction, Loukin asked, "Forgive me, sir; are you a captain for the Fleet?"

Gura shook his head. "No, Loukin. I am a captain in the infantry."

"Why are the titles the same? I have not been able to understand rank and file, since we joined with the Alliance, and began using their terms for titles," Loukin said, as he brushed aside a goblin.

"I do not know why the titles are the same. I know only that all Rangers must report to the Main Pavilion, and that I am a Ranger."

"Yessir. What is a Ranger?"

Gura smiled for a moment, and the two stopped beside the guide-ropes at one tent. He said, "A Ranger is infantry, but not as you know them. They are infantry whose purpose is to scout. Rangers are also touched in some way by their gods, and can speak with animals and even plants in ways that no one else can. This is why Rangers are such powerful trackers, and make such valuable scouts."

Loukin was silent for a moment, and finally he nodded. "I understand, sir."

Across another side of the city of Shameth, Gundar stormed through the throngs. He muttered to himself, "Why do they want me to go to the damned Main Pavilion?"

Behind him, trying to keep up, was another Ranger. "They must have some heavy offensive planned, if they want all of us to be in on it."

Gundar snorted. "Either that, or someone mucked up, and he wants to blame us." Gundar picked up an orog that was seven feet tall, set him aside, and then proceeded forward.

The orog blinked stupidly, glanced at Gundar's fleeting back, and scratched its head. He hooked a thumb at the moving Rangers, and asked his orc counter-part, "What go on?"

The orc shrugged. "I dunno; you think they tell us grunts anything?"

* * *

Inside the tent, the Rangers were abuzz, asking one another if his neighbor knew what was going on. Gura guessed there were close to five thousand Rangers seated, and another ten thousand standing or milling about on that end of the Main Pavilion. They represented all different races, and all different cultures. High overhead, birds swooped and dove, while other animals stayed close to their Rangers.

Some day, Gura thought, I'll attract my own followers. Some day.

Loukin seemed awed by all that was happening. A nearby Ranger asked him in the locals' Western dialect, "Any idea what this is all about?"

The interpreter turned to Gura, who had squatted down on his haunches, and said, "This fellow wishes to know if you have any knowledge of what is about to happen."

Gura said in the language of his homeland, "Tell him there will be a selection. Some few will have to walk the path of death, and destruction. And many will die."

Loukin blinked, and asked Gura quietly, "Have you had a vision?"

Gura smiled. "No. But is not that the way all beings go?"

Loukin blinked again, and then translated back to Western Common for the other Ranger. "He says he does not know."

On the other side of the crowd of Rangers, Gundar sized up the Ranger next to him. Lander, in turn, sized Gundar up. They nodded at one another, and then Lander asked in Elvish, "Any idea what's going on?"

Gundar shook his head, and said, "Nope; but it better be good."

A large human wearing bright, shiny full-plate strode up to a podium, and then said in a commanding voice, "Rangers, let's get down to business! We've discovered a Gate of some sort. We're not sure where it goes; we don't know if any of our enemies are using it; we don't know if we can use it. We've already discovered that passage through the Gate is safe. What we're going to do is send in small squads of Rangers, at six-hour intervals, to find out just what's on the other side. This is strictly voluntary.

"For those of you who want to take a crack at a new world, head for the Blue Pavilion; there, you'll be winnowed down to the teams.

"Now, we also have a heavy offensive planned on the Northern front..."

Gundar drew his knife, and slashed down the side of the tent. Lander covered the movement, realizing what was going on, and then they were both through the slash. While the other volunteering Rangers took their times filing towards the exits, so that they could get to the Blue Pavilion, Lander and Gundar sprinted through the crowds.

Gundar said, "C'mon, I know a short-cut!"

Lander, huffing behind him, said, "I'm right behind you!"

They were among the first twenty to the Blue Pavilion, and thus right in the front. Gura and Loukin were not so lucky, as they had to stop and ask for directions several times. They stood in the rear with the other thousand or so Rangers that had also volunteered.

An elderly gentleman finally strode out, and hushed his rapt audience. "Very well, ladies and gentlemen. First off, we only know that the other side of the Gate opens up underground. We don't know how far, underground, or what things are like on the surface of this other world. And, no, we don't have a name for it, as yet; it could very well turn out to be a world we're already familiar with.

"Now, I need to know who will lead the first team through the Gate?" he asked.

Lander called out, "Yo! I'm first." He turned to Gundar, and asked in Elvish, "Care to come with me?"

Gundar nodded, and Lander said, "And here's my second for the party!"

The human said, "You'll need one more, for your party, then, Captain...?"

"Lander, sir!"

Loukin finished interpreting, and Gura waved his hand, catching the attention of the elderly gentleman in the front. Gura said to Loukin, "I wish to go."

The interpreter called out, "Captain Gura wishes to accompany you, Captain Lander!"

Lander and Gundar craned their necks, and caught sight of Loukin and Gura. Lander shrugged at Gundar, Gundar shrugged at Lander, and then Lander said to the gentleman at the front of the Rangers, "We've got a team, then, sir!"

The human nodded, a motion barely visible in the back of the crowd. "All right! First team's ready. Second team will go through, in six hours. Your mission is simple, people. We'll give you two weeks to check out the other side of the gate. If you're not back in two weeks, we'll assume you're dead. This means that a considerable number of you will be on the same world, exploring it. We expect you to help one another, if you must, but your main objective is exploration and espionage.

"Find out if the enemy is using the other side. Find out if we can use the other side. And search for more gates. Captain Lander, head for tent A2, and you'll get equipment and prep, there.

"Next up, the second team..."

Gundar and Lander were already outside the tent, and heading for tent A2. Loukin and Gura stepped outside, and began puzzling their way in what they hoped was the right direction, just as Lander popped up behind Gura.

The blond Ranger captain said, "This way, gentlemen," and motioned his head.

The four of them went to tent A2, and inside, they found a brisk colonel issuing commands to a number of supply personnel. There were tables and tables of special equipment, ranging from survival kits to climbing spikes.

The colonel cleared his throat, and said, "I take it, captain, that you are Team One?"

Lander nodded, and motioned. "This is Gundar, Gura, and...?" He glanced at Loukin.

Loukin nodded his head politely, and said, "I am Loukin, Captain Gura's translator."

The colonel nodded, and said, "I'm Colonel Richef. Before we proceed, feel free to poke around; take anything you feel you'll need. I remind you that we don't know what kind of terrain is outside of the cave system -- assuming that there is anything other than the caves."

Loukin quietly translated for Gura, who nodded.

Gura said, "Translate this for me, Loukin. Tell Colonel Richef that I wish for you to be armed and armored, with the equipment of your choice."

Loukin nodded, his face paling somewhat, and did as Captain Gura bid him. The Colonel nodded, said something in his native language, and several armorers came forward to take Loukin's measurements. Loukin and the armorers spoke for a moment, and then the armorers left.

Meanwhile, Lander and Gundar picked up those items they did not already have. Being Rangers, they were often prepared for diverse situations. At one point, though, a lieutenant approached them, and asked for their healing kits. The kits contained all of the standard paraphernalia for a healer: sutures, bandages, sulfonamides, gauze, needles, and the like. The lieutenant took the kits, indicating that he would add things to them.

The armorers returned, and bound up Loukin in a suit of pre-sized, studded leather armor. Loukin indicated that he was proficient with a short-sword, and he was given his choice among a number of high-quality swords.

Colonel Richef said, "Ah, good," as the lieutenant returned with the healing kits. "We've added three healing potions, to each of your kits. I just hope that you don't need them. The potions won't restore you to life, and they won't do more than keep you from dying, really. If one of you has to take a potion, be sure and have your team-mates handy; it'll mean that you're not fit for combat."

Lander said, "We're military Rangers, sir. We can handle it."

Richef nodded, and waited patiently as Team One finished outfitting itself.

When they were through, he led them outside, to another tent. Inside the tent, two large ogres in field-plate guarded a set of earthen stairs, leading down into the darkness. The Colonel nodded to them, and proceeded down. Team One followed not far behind. They went down perhaps thirty feet, into the dirt and clay, before they began descending another set of stairs through solid rock. The rock was apparently part of an old cave system.

After a time, the stairs opened up into an enormous cavern. Gundar rolled his eyes, and Lander noticed it.

"What?"

Gundar said, "I was wondering why there were so many guards around the grain storage."

"You figured it was to protect the food supplies against poisoning?" Lander asked.

Gundar nodded, listening as their voices echoed oddly in the cavern.

After a time, the Colonel led them past a small squadron of armored knights, all standing at attention. Behind the knights, a number of wizards and clerics analyzed the Gate.

Colonel Richef asked, "Any progress?"

A wizard with a flowing white beard, pointed hat, and rune-inscribed robes, replied, "None. We know it's not a Gate to this plane, but... I believe its very old, though."

A priest snorted, and said, "It's as safe as we can determine, Colonel. Though its age is a matter of debate." The priest and wizard glared at one another for a moment.

Richef nodded. "Well, gentlemen." He turned back to Team One. "Our first scouts are probably just on the other side of the Gate. Oh, here..." He signaled a nearby corporal, who brought to the Colonel a small chest. Richef opened the chest, and reached inside.

He said, "You might run into trouble, or have to bribe your way out of, or into, trouble." He tossed out four bags, one for each member of Team One. "You'll find about five coppers, silvers, electrums, and gold pieces, one platinum piece, and if you really need it, an amethyst worth about a hundred gold pieces."

Gundar opened his, examined the contents of the bag, shrugged, and put it inside his leather tunic.

Gura handed his to Loukin, and said in his native tongue, "Keep it; I have no need of these." Loukin nodded his appreciation.

Colonel Richef said, "Very well. Captain Lander? Whenever you're ready..."

Lander saluted the Colonel, and then waited for the priests and wizards to part. As soon as they did, he stepped through the portal. Gundar was a moment behind him, and then Gura and Loukin stepped through, as well.

* * *

Loukin stepped through into darkness, though he could feel Gura and the others nearby. "It's dark? Where's the light?" A moment later, his stomach dropped. He felt a little green, but he felt Gura stumble, and then lean against the wall.

"Gura? Are you all right?" Loukin asked.

Gura said feebly, "Yes; for the moment." The elf attempted to keep his lunch down, as best he could.

Loukin repeated, "Is there light?"

Lander said, "Light a torch, Loukin."

The human began fumbling in his pack, and asked, "I had heard, sirs, that your race could see in the dark...?"

Lander nodded, realized that the human could not see the gesture, and said, "Somewhat. We can see heat, just like you see light."

Loukin automatically translated for Gura. Gura stepped in, finding his stomach, and helped Loukin light the torch. As it came to life, the human saw that they were in the middle of a long, natural corridor. One cave passage turned off to the left, and the other turned off to the right.

Gundar and Lander were standing on opposite sides of the cavern, one at each of the two corridors, on opposite sides of the Gate. There was a burnt out torch, set in the wall across from the Gate. Gura's face was somewhat greenish, but he turned to study the right passage.

Lander said, "The air blows this way. Hunh. Gundar, c'mere." He apparently noticed something on the floor, and squatted down to look at it. A moment later, Gundar joined him.

Lander said quietly, "Looks like someone was drug, from here. The prints, though, are odd. Eight of them?"

Gundar said just as quietly, "Be a big spider. I'm guessing about eight feet wide, including legs. Four foot body, mebbe?"

Lander stood up, and appraised Gura. "How good are you, with that?" He pointed at Gura's side, where a repeating crossbow hung.

For an answer, Gura swung up the crossbow, without taking it off the hook, and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Gura sighed, banged on the side of the crossbow, and mumbled something.

Loukin said quietly, "He says, it is jammed."

Half a second later, there was a bolt sticking out of the burnt-out torch. Neither Lander, nor Loukin, had seen Gura move, let alone aim. Lander nodded, and said, "Take a look at this, then, and lemme know what you think."

Lander and Gundar stepped aside, and Gura examined the odd tracks. He said something to Loukin, who replied, "He asks if it might be a cave fisher?"

Gundar shook his head. "Dunno. Never met a cave fisher. But I say we find out what happened to the sentry."

Lander nodded. "Good idea. That's the way the air's blowing, too."

Gura said something, and Loukin translated. "He says that he will go ahead, and track this menace; we should remain here."

Gura did not wait for the translation, and began moving down the corridor. His footsteps made no more noise than a feather falling into a spider's web, and he disappeared around a corner in the cave.

Gundar and Lander glanced at one another, and then at Loukin. The two blonde rangers shrugged at one another, and then followed Gura down the corridor. Loukin, torch in hand, followed.

The corridor was a natural formation in the stone, carved out by millennia of seeping water. The air was cool and damp, but all of them had prepared for every climate they could imagine. They traveled on for some time, as the passage sloped up, and then down, and from side to side.

Gura occasionally lost the trail, but would find it again just down the cave. After perhaps half an hour, the corridor they were in opened into a larger one. There, Gura waited a moment for his companions to catch up.

They were at the bottom of an underground chasm. As Loukin brought his torch-light to bear on the chasm's walls, it became apparent that the ceiling was far beyond its range. A small cascade of pebbles and dust caused Gura to scowl, and he glanced at the walls of the chasm.

The earth beneath them shuddered, and more debris rained down on them. The four of them quickly retreated back into the corridor, out of the chasm's rain of stones and dust.

Gundar glanced back the corridor, and then sprinted down it. As the earth stopped moving, and things quieted down, the Ranger captain sprinted at top speed back towards the Gate. When he arrived, the Gate was gone. There was simply a stone face along the corridor, and their footprints in the moist dust.

He sprinted back to his friends, and relayed to them the news with a bit of a pant. "The Gate's gone. Like it never existed."

Loukin dropped his head and muttered a light prayer.

Lander said, "Well; I guess we don't have a choice, now." He stepped outside the corridor, and glanced up, and then out. "Damn."

Immediately, he released his rope and grappling hook from around his shoulders, and began swinging. The other two Rangers noticed what Lander had seen, a moment later; that the eight-legged trail went straight up the chasm's side. All three of the elves began climbing rather quickly; Gura and Lander with the practiced ease of mountain-climbers, and Gundar with his more clumsy bracers.

Gundar's bracers had small, metal hooks built into them, that allowed him to climb by brute strength and agility. Gura and Lander moved with the ease of years of practice, however, and began to outdistance him. Gundar glanced up at the quickly retreating feet of his comrades, and scowled. He thought, It doesn't take three of us to climb a mountain.

The blonde elf quickly dropped down to the floor of the chasm, and glanced up at his retreating friends. Loukin's torch lost them after a moment.

To the translator, Gundar said, "Move back, against the wall. Don't put the torch out, but try to keep it away from things." He grasped the man's arm, and positioned him inside the corridor that led to the chasm. "Stay here. I'll be back."

Gundar quickly trotted off down the floor of the chasm, searching for more of the eight-legged tracks, and following the more quickly moving air.

Gura and Lander paused for a moment, some sixty feet up the chasm's wall, so that they could secure themselves. Gura looked up again, a moment too late.

It truly was a spider, erasing all doubt from their minds, and it was larger of body than they had thought. The arachnid quickly spun itself around, and aimed its spinnerets at the two Rangers. In the instant that the spider spun around, Gura and Lander both had their weapons out.

The spider let loose a salvo of sticky white gunk from its hind end, covering Lander and Gura in a web of steel-strong silk. Gura, his muscles straining, managed to break through enough webbing that he could get his repeating crossbow free. The first shot aimed true, and struck the spider in its thorax.

The arachnid nearly leapt off the chasm wall, and so Gura's second shot missed by a hair's breadth. Lander was spinning around on his safety line, still trying to get himself and his bow free, when the spider attacked with more than silk.

It rushed forward, and attempted to bite down on Gura -- its deadly fangs nearly delivered their potent poison. However, Gura wore a breast-plate of steel, bound and encased in leather; the spider's fangs dented the steel, but did not penetrate it. In desperation, Gura fired his crossbow again, point blank into the spider's head.

Loukin and Gundar had heard the commotion, and did not ignore it. Gundar began sprinting back along the bottom of the chasm, and shouted, "Loukin! Arm yourself!"

Loukin did as he was told, and drew his short-sword. He held the torch higher, to aid his vision, and stepped forward to confront whatever danger there was. The spider landed on him, startling the poor man considerably.

Gundar arrived at the arachnid's body just in time to roll it off the frightened human; Loukin was all right, and the spider was dead.

Up above them, Lander cursed, and finally managed to free himself of the accursed webbing. He rolled his eyes at Gura, and began climbing up his rope, curious as to what he'd find at the top. Gura glanced up at the climbing Ranger, and then slid down his rope in short order. At the bottom, he made sure that Loukin was all right, and then investigated the body of the spider.

Gundar called up, "Hey!" and his shout echoed oddly throughout the cave system. "Lander! Ander! Ander!"

A moment later, Lander slid down his own line, gave it a jiggle, and then calmly stepped back, as his grappling hook and Gura's hit the ground. He said, "Nothing up there but a bunch of cocoons. I opened em up; just big insects -- and one human."

Gundar asked, "There any hope for him?"

Lander shook his head. "Nope. The spider's juices have already done most of their work. About the only thing left, that's solid, is his bones."

Loukin look horrified at the corpse of the giant spider, and Gura laid a reassuring hand on the human's shoulder.

They continued on, following the chasm the way Gundar had gone. They kept a wary eye out for more giant spiders, but did not see any. After a time, Team One found a chasm in their chasm. The second chasm ran perpendicular to the first, and it was considerably larger. The wind was also noticeably stronger in that larger chasm.

Lander looked across the large one, as the smaller chasm continued straight ahead. "Well; across, or up?"

Loukin translated, and Gura answer by stepping out into the larger chasm, and beginning to climb.

Lander said, "I guess that answers that." He, too, began climbing. When he was perhaps six feet up the side of the larger chasm's wall, he asked Gundar, "What about you two? We need to leave some pitons in the wall for you?"

Gundar shook his head, his hands busy with a length of black silk rope. "Just watch." Gundar's hands were a blur, and then he attached the knotted rope to Loukin's harness. The elf did not give the human time to question him, and simply started climbing, using his hooked bracers. After a moment, the rope went taught, and Loukin was dragged up into the air.

Loukin gasped, and nearly dropped his torch. The rocks knocked loose by his surprise lift seemed to fall forever. Not even the keen elven ears heard them hit the bottom, some half a minute later.

Gura, Lander, and Gundar continued to climb, while Loukin kept his eyes shut tight, and prayed. The sounds of their climbing were not as loud as they could have been, as the larger chasm seemed to simply absorb sound in its depths, though their was an echo off the far wall.

At one point, Loukin asked, "Are all elves this strong?" He marveled at the constitution that the climbers showed.

Gundar grunted, pausing to catch his breath. "No." He braced himself, and climbed on.

The chasm wall was not entirely vertical, and there were numerous secondary crevasses and even ledges upon which they could rest. The four of them ascended the wall of the chasm for close to two hours, and towards the end, they made breaks more and more often. After one break in particular, they began to see the faintest glimmering of a reddish light, high above them.

They climbed on, their muscles screaming in agony. Gura was the first to reach the top. He said something very softly in his native tongue, and Loukin automatically translated, "Sunlight." The human glanced up in his harness, unable to see more than Gundar's fast-moving legs.

Team One climbed through the narrow opening, just in time to see the sun set. The view was spectacular; mountains marched towards the horizon like soldiers on parade, their white helmets reflecting the reddish light. As the last red of the sun faded from view, Gura led the team away from the mouth of the cave.

He began saying something in the Eastern tongue, while he quickly removed a tent and cold-weather equipment from his pack. Loukin, digging for his own gloves, translated through chattering teeth, "The mouth of the cave may become very dangerous, especially if it is the only entrance to such a large cave system; soon it will begin to howl."

Gundar grunted, and dug out his cold-weather suit. They all were soon armored against the deadly fingers of the cold, and Gundar said in a muffled voice, through his scarf, "I'll take first watch. I'll wake Gura for second, in about four hours."

Loukin quickly translated, and Gura nodded. Lander climbed into his tent, and promptly began snoring. It was said long ago that elves do not sleep, that they simply meditate through the long hours of the night. If that were true, then Lander meditated very noisily.

As predicted, the mouth of the cave began to howl like a banshee. As the atmospheric pressure decreased slightly, the pressure inside the cave system attempted to equalize. A man-sized rock spewed out of the cave-mouth, and sailed forty feet out, and perhaps a hundred feet down. It shattered into thousands of pieces and a poof of dust. The wind continued to howl through the cave-mouth for perhaps an hour, before it tapered off, and then stopped.

Gundar watched the stars wheel about, as the night progressed. It was very, very cold, and the wind upon their mountainside did little to alleviate the cold. The sides of the tents flapped like the cracking of hundreds of bull-whips, and Gundar could hear Loukin sleep fitfully. The stars appeared alien to Gundar, and then to Gura, when his time for watch came.

Gura sat through his cold, lonely shift, reminded of the mountains of home. He had trained in such conditions, and to him, the side of a frozen mountain was where he belonged. Just as he figured that four hours had gone by, the darkness behind the mountain they were on began to fade, to be replaced with the slowly growing light of dawn.

For more on Gundar, read up on him as Player Character on Gaeleth, from Campaign I.

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