Order and Chaos

The mountain pass!!!

I decided that, if the world was ending, our war with the gods barely mattered. Whatever tactical advantage we might gain from a pretense that Malcolm lived was useless. We were better off focusing on survival, and that meant the path that would make it harder for our pursuers to follow.

I pointed to the mountain pass, and we began our long march through it.

At first it seemed like a terrible decision. The ground trembled beneath our feet with every step, likely another curse from the defeated gods. But as the fiery rains grew in intensity, only to strike the peaks around us, murmurs passed through the ranks as everyone was grateful not to be on the open road without any shelter at all.

We kept as close as we could to the high stone walls around us, even as we feared they might collapse on our heads. There was nothing to do except press forward, our best hope being that the vanquished gods wanted to see us suffer more than they wanted to see us die.

Many other curses came our way. A swarm of scorpions. Freezing winds, even as the flames still fell from the sky. Apparitions of our fallen kinsmen calling us worthless cowards.

But after hours of marching, we finally made it through with few casualties, with no sign of the enemy behind us. Perhaps they hadn't even bothered pursuing us, expecting the trail and the curses to finish us off.

I could see Castle Vendet in the distance - you never forgot the shape of its towers. But there was still one great obstacle standing between us and home - and whatever trials we would face once we returned there.

What was it?