After we spent a week, each day praying to Eleutheria and running for hours and hours afterwards, the distance we had covered was somewhat mind-boggling. Hundreds of kilometers, passing by multiple cities, two of which the others had entered for a night and to get some shopping done and countless other travellers, especially after the second day, when we passed a cross-road of the Ancient Road, our east-west track crossing one that was leading north-south, though I doubted that the southern direction received much traffic, as it was leading straight into the Wild Magic. On the other hand, the northern road was a main trade-route, connecting various kingdoms north of the White Mountains with the ocean and thus the world.

One of the cities the others had checked, with me staying within my Hallow to make sure my penchant for attracting trouble wouldn’t rear its ugly head had been Arranya, one of the port-cities on the Inner Sea. There, they had used the afternoon and evening to investigate options for our travel, Olivia and Adra talking to the locals, trying to figure out if the Daish Gate was really as dangerous to traverse as we had been told. The results promised little, as it sounded like the Daish Gate was truly impassable during the late fall and winter, unless you had the power to tussle with hundreds of sea-monsters, who all seemed to seasonally travel, moving up the coast during winter until they reached the northern seas. Why they migrated, and why they moved north in the winter and south in the summer, nobody knew but it sounded like scientific research was a lot more difficult, if the subject of your research was some twenty meters in length, had a foul temper and the ability to capsize most ships with their Water Magic.

But, whatever I might think about the weirdness of sea-monster-migration, the route through the Daish Gate was impassable and nobody dared to even try getting through there. Not until spring set in, which would give us precious little time to travel across Arbotoma. Thus, our route would take us to Aletoma where we hopefully would find a sailor to take us past the Islands of Dead. It would give us more time, but the name didn’t fill me with confidence, only with curiosity.

Another thing we had seen on the road, at least in passing, were bandits, but for some reason absolutely unknown and certainly not due to our insane speed and the casual ease with which I had prevented their attempts at Observe-ing us, they didn’t want anything to do with us fading into the brush as fast as they could. If not for the bother, I might have attempted to hunt them down, but there was little reason, we had no quests to hunt bandits, they were smart enough not to try attacking us and there was the possibility that it would annoy Olivia, thus costing us our improved speed.

During the evenings, Lenore and I kept scouting, scrying and simply studying the environment around us, and I noticed a distinct change in levels of the surrounding creatures, the forests around Narristo somewhere around level eighty to a hundred and by the time we had reached Arranya, on the other side of the peninsula that contained the ruins of the Ancient Empire, the levels had dropped off to a mere twenty, before climbing back up.

Now, with the Dorrian Mountains, the last hurdle keeping us off the Idorra-peninsula and, finally, the Oceans and Naga-cities, the beasts around us looked to be almost worth hunting, their levels ranging between seventy and ninety. Maybe, we would find something worth killing in the mountains, even if the only monsters with bounties on their head were undead. Apparently, there were countless old battlefields in those mountains, from a time when the Demons tried to cross the Daish Gate and take over Aretia, at times managing to take over the Idorra-peninsula in the process, before other races, under the leadership of the Valkyries, drove them back out. Centuries of warfare, dating back to time immemorial, before the Ancient Empire had ever existed, had left its marks on the land, and those marks, together with copious amounts of Astral Power, had left the mountains a rather interesting and dangerous place.

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If we had travelled further north, something I had considered but it would have meant weeks of detour, Lenore and I could have walked the Valley of Death, a narrow, long canyon that was the only readily traversable route through the northern White Mountains, a place where, for thousands of years, people had killed each other. It was a natural choke-point, necessitating armies to force it, while allowing even small numbers of defenders to kill many times their number - though, at the same time, once the defense was broken, there was no quarter given, no mercy as the victors avenged their losses on the staunch defenders, inflicting as much pain as possible before their eventual passing. Those gruesome, brutal deaths, in turn, caused an even stronger defense during the next attack, slowly but surely poisoning the land with grief, pain and anger. In a land of Magic and Astral Power, those emotions had taken on a life of their own, ending the endless battle, both sides forced to defend their lands from the powerful, endless horde of undead, fueled by the countless years of battle. Alas, it was not to be.

And it wasn’t as if there wasn’t enough pain and bloodshed to go around, ever since the Dorrian Mountains had become visible, there had been a faint, lingering trace of Blood in the air, whenever the wind was blowing into our faces, a soft, subtle, taste of death and decay.

“What do you think we’ll find in those mountains?” I asked Lenore, the taste floating on the wind making me curious. So far, I had very little experience with undead, only those within the Barrow Den, quite possibly created by the Grandmother or simply under her watchful eye by natural processes.

“Not sure, but I think it’ll be less dangerous than the White Mountains.” she suggested and I agreed with her. The White Mountains themselves had been quite harmless after all, it had been the aerial murder-pride, with their strong bond and ability to swoop down and tear us to pieces. Unless the local undead had some weird fraternity going, where you would be attacked by all undead if you harmed a single one, we would likely be alright. Especially if I focused on Darkness-Magic and its ability to counter and devour magic.

“Whatever it will be, I’ll be able to have a feast. Even if I’m a little worried that I’ll tilt myself too far towards Death, my ability to wield and ride the wind suffering.” Lenore admitted, her reasoning obvious. While she could use local concentrations to prepare for a future divide, if she only used Death-Astral Power, the results of breaking through the divide would completely skew towards that element, meaning her ability to enhance her flight with magic wouldn’t advance, maybe even atrophy.

“Maybe we can find some place where the bones of the dead have been exposed to the wind, the mountains should have some nicely windy places, right? One of the mountain-tops might have some place like that, where the ceaseless storm has imbued the bones of the dead.” I suggested, the idea sounding logical to me. If an army had been encircled, trying to retreat upwards, using the high-ground for a last stand would make sense and if there was enough hate, their foes would simply leave them there, exposed to the elements.

“We should keep an eye out.” she agreed, sounding quite intrigued. We would need a lot of work to make up the levels needed to cross the next divide and unless we ran into multiple dungeons, it was unlikely that we’d get there during the beta but that was no reason not to try. Especially as even just preparing granted nice benefits, just like it had been a massive benefit, though a detriment at the same time, when I had used the Eternal Ice beneath the glacier and stained my soul with it.

“There are the others.” Lenore told me, my focus following her mental direction, taking in what she was seeing. The others had been in a nearby town, I had forgotten its name, trying to see if there were quests for our crossing of the Dorian Mountains. Hopefully, there would be and if not, maybe some information on interesting, or simply dangerous areas within the mountains. Thankfully, Olivia’s magic had spared us weeks of traveling through the low-level area we had traversed and now, I wanted to gain some new levels. The White Mountains had been a bit of a bust in that regard, the only worthwhile prey the Manticores, which had been a little too annoying to be worth it. And dangerous.

Hopefully, the Undead of the Dorian Mountains would be more interesting.