Chapter 63: Out of the Gulch

Alcar looked again at the cliffs on either side of the trail. “Man, I don’t think I can climb that,” he said. “And Brutus definitely can’t.”

“I’m not a man,” said Warlik, his nostrils flaring, and his jade green eyes flicking towards Alcar in obvious annoyance.

Alcar turned, staring at the warrior in surprise. “Oh, my mistake...” he began, glancing down at Warlik’s crotch and pondering for the first time about lizard people’s anatomy. “I had always assumed...”

Warlik bared his sharp teeth and took a step closer. “I mean, I am male, of course,” he snapped. “But I am a lizard-man. If you just say ‘man’, it sounds like you are talking about a human.”

“Does that matter?” Alcar replied.

“Yeah, it matters!” put in Olynka, stepping to Warlik’s side as she spoke. ”Sometimes you call me ‘man’, as well, Alcar. Do I look like a man to you?”

Alcar took the opportunity to look Olynka up and down; she was a fine-looking woman with a pretty face and a beautiful figure, and it was something of a shame in his view that she had covered most of herself up with armor... and that her romantic interests appeared to focus on other women.

Not that he would have had a hope with her in any case, he was well aware, as she was clearly far out of his league. Even if he wasn’t dressed in these ridiculously shiny green robes.

Perhaps he should look to get a better outfit. Did sorcerers really need to wear robes, after all? Perhaps Master Maluhk could clarify that for him...

“Well?” Olynka persisted, and Alcar realized that while he had been musing to himself, he hadn’t actually replied to her question.

“Most definitely a woman, ma... my friend,” he said. “A very good one, at that.”

“Hmmph.”

“Stunning and brilliant,” he added, “and on your way to becoming a great warrior.”

Olynka smiled at this. “That’s a bit better, I suppose.”

“We are wasting time,” said Etienne, who had been glancing around at the cliffs while picking his nose. “If we are going to try to get up there and off the trail, we need to find the best climbing route.”

“That way,“ said Warlik, pointing and striding over towards the side, leaving the others to hurry over in his wake. “It’s not the lowest way, but it’s the most passible option for novices. If we’re quick, we’ll get off the trail before the Imperials can catch up. As to the dog, well – we have rope, don’t we?”

“We did,” said Etienne. “Everything got left behind, either with Kora’s broken wagon or when we had to escape from the kobolds.”

Warlik paused again, looking from one to another of the young adventurers. “Why didn’t you buy more from the elves? You went to their store, didn’t you? Didn’t you pick up basic adventuring supplies while you were there?”

“We got food,” said Etienne defensively, looking down at his feet.

The others looked at one another for a moment.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“We do have bandages,” suggested Alar.

“Not strong enough,” said Leppie, with a shake of her head.

Alcar began pondering on whether he could enlarge something into a makeshift rope – a bandage, or a blade of tough grass, perhaps, when Warlik snorted and moved closer to the rock face. “Never mind. We need to get moving. We’ll have to manage without any rope – that just means we’re just going to have to be careful. And you can leave the dog behind, Alcar. He was only a stray anyway, wasn’t he?”

“Leave him behind?” said Alcar, aghast. “What the hell?” He glared at Warlik as the lizardman began to climb the cliff face, finding his respect and linking for their more experienced companion starting to dwindle.

“It’s your choice,” called Warlik in response, now a couple of yards up the rockface. “Either that, or the pair of you try to make your way over that rock fall. If so, I hope to see you on the hillside over yonder.”

Alcar stood for a moment and watched as one after the other of the companions began to climb. Olynka, at least, gave him a sympathetic look. “Perhaps Brutus will catch up with us?” she suggested. “Dogs are very smart. He will surely find his own way.”

“I’m not leaving it to chance,” Alcar replied. “Not with trolls about.”

He had made up his mind – he would try to find another way.

With a sigh, Alcar stood back as his companions slowly made their way up the cliff face. Then he began to walk to the top of the rocky gulch, and to the chaotic rockfall that blocked it.

At least he had his share of the food supplies that they had gained from the elves, he reflected. He pulled out one of the bags of dried beef strips, and fed three of the strips to Brutus in quick succession.

“I hope it wasn’t uncomfortable, boy, when I transformed you.”

“Wuff,” replied Brutus calmly.

Brutus certainly hadn’t appeared to be distressed by the sorcery, but he did seem to be hungry.

But then, weren’t dogs always hungry?

Alcar walked on, now pulling one of the honey and oat bars from a pocket of his robes. He bit into it; it was sweet and delicious, reminding him of cakes that his mother had made when she had still been alive. It was so long ago that it felt like a different age. So much of his childhood had just been him and his father. Studying. Sleeping beside the workshop. Playing with other kids on the streets of Katresburg’s poor quarter. And endless cycle, the same actions repeated over and over.

In truth, it was all a bit of a blur.

Life now was very different, that was for sure. But why did adventuring have to be so full of obstacles?

He paused, looking from one side to another. The rockfall was almost the height of Katresburg’s city walls, and was made up of boulders of various sizes. It would be possible to try and clamber over, but Warlik had been right – the rocks were loose, and could very easily shift under his movement. It would be a matter of luck if he didn’t find himself falling down through a crack, or having his leg caught under a shifting boulder, leaving him at the mercy of the Imperials. Or worse.

And it would be an even harder path for Brutus.

“Let’s walk further along, boy,” he said, turning and moving towards the rightmost edge of the obstacle. “It’s a shame I can’t make us both big enough to just step over it. that would be cool.”

“Woof!”

“Ubund would no doubt be able to find his way,” Alcar muttered. “Damn. I didn’t much like the guy, but I hope he somehow got away from that troll. Swam along the river, maybe? Perhaps he could make it back to wherever his people come from.”

This time Brutus didn’t respond. Instead, the dog was sniffing intently at one of the nearer rocks, his tail wagging hard.

“Come on,” said Alcar.

But the dog persisted, now pushing his head low. In front of him, there appeared to be a gap under the rock, partially hidden by long grass.

“What’s that you’re looking at?” said Alcar, pausing and taking a step closer. He reached in with the tip of his staff to part the grass. There, under the rock, was a gap – or could it even be a tunnel?

Alcar kneeled down beside Brutus, jars and vials once again rattling inside his robes.

He couldn’t see much, that was clear.

“Torches is another thing we should have bought at Riverhome Village,” he murmured to himself. “And a tinderbox. No doubt Warlik would be scolding me if he was here to do so. However...”

Thinking back to the time when he had chased after dwarves in Katresburg, Alcar was aware he could start a fire with his sorcery, although it was hot and painful to hold. But he also knew that he had used up a lot of energy when the trolls had attacked. He wasn’t sure how much he had left, or how rapidly it recharged.

If only there was some way of keeping track of it?

Even by the ambient daylight, however, it was clear that what Brutus had found was more than just a hole under the rock – it was the beginning of a fissure leading down into the ground. It must connect to something.

“Let’s see how we get on, Brut,” said Alcar, getting down on his knees and beginning to crawl.