Emerging from The Copperwood two weeks later, Emmeriss pointed out the sheer hilly border to Cavensmaw on the horizon. The only entry point was a massive gate, carved to resemble two beautiful women housed an enormous metal gate, engraved with a handsome bald man on a chair, blocked access to the darkened lands.

  Even now, with nearly an hour's ride between them and the structure, a five-person intercept party set off to engage them.

"Looks to me like they were expecting us." the ranger said with a chuckle. "We should prepare for a fight."

"No fightin them won't help. We need them to open the door for us." Chalco said, scratching his chin with his steel claw and his lizard's with his left hand.

Velwrith spurred Sandbucket lightly, pushing him to the front of the group. "I'll do the talking. It's me they want anyhow."

Valasta interjected. "Would that not be playing to their hand? If Chalco here is any sort of example, we should assume they will just nab you off your horse and bring you back as a captive. I suggest someone clad in significantly less metal does the talking."

Theaiss said, pushing his mare past Sandbucket. "I can manage, but stay alert. They hold all the advantages here."

In agreement, they formed into a rough diamond with Theaiss at the front, Velwrith in the center, and Chalco at the back and rode onward.

#

Thirty minutes later, the two groups meet. Both sides were armed to the teeth. A man with black armor and a broad red plume horizontally crossing his head broke from the others and dismounted. He approached the Silver Blades cautiously, hand on his sword.

When in earshot, he spoke in a stern booming voice. "Identify yourselves, trespassers." he commanded

Theaiss dismounted and sauntered to the other man. "We are the Silver Blades, and I am Theaiss Seastrider, captain of The Fortnight. We are not trespassers. We have an invitation into to your lands."

"Liar, outsiders are not welcome in the underworld."

"Under usual circumstances, that would be quite true. But we are traveling with Velwrith Silverwind the Lightbringer. The Underlord himself has requested the oracle's presence. My Valdrath comrade, clad in dwarven armor, can verify."

The soldier looked over the group slowly and said, "Show me your proof."

Chalco produced a small metal disk and flicked it into the air. It arched through the air until it was level with the soldier. He reached out a hand, and it flew directly straight to him.

When it reached him, he took it from the air like nothing was out of the ordinary and ran a pinky finger along with the disk in a clockwise spiral. Then, after several long minutes, he looked over at the group again. "This indicates there should be four Valdrath soldiers in your party, not seven vagabonds. I don't know what you're up to, but I am not letting your entire mob pass."

The group murmured for a moment before Velwrith and Chalco stepped forward. The Wildling raised his steel hand and spoke, "Aye, I departed with three others. It seems they were too soft for the work. One deserted, and two died. I took up with this lot afterward. Just happens the Lightbringer was one ovum."

The soldier nodded. "Chalco Tevta metal hand, you are listed as the commander of the party. We will allow you to return with your-" The armored man paused. "-your captive, The Lightbringer."

Smokey blue eyes scanned the rest of the group. "But the rest of you will stay outside." 

Emmeriss took it on himself to clarify. "May we make camp on your lands then? We will live entirely off our supplies and those of the forest, and I am a …" but was cut off.

The hard-eyed man practically shouted. "No, you sleep in the woods, or you sleep in your graves. As for you two, hand over your weapons. You are not prisoners, but do not think you are guests either."

Both groups of Silver blades complied, one fleeing to the treeline and the other disarming.

#

Beyond the stone, maw was a long promenade capped by another gate, this one blank. The Valdrath opened it with an unseen force that housed the block straight upwards. Velwrith noted the similarity in materials between the two gates and the black war gear carried by everyone they passed.

They rode down that long street for nearly a week, passing hundreds of lacing crossroads that snaked through the hills. Both sides were flanked not only by the natural walls of the terrain but also by a fifteen-foot embankment. At every juncture, the fortifications game way to round yards of stables, inns, and bathhouses, but they all also played host to soldiers' barracks.

 They eventually reached the foot of the mountain range that separated the land of men from elves, the foot of The Wall. The ancient Valdrath had carved the toe of one monolithic peak in the shape of a raging, snapping wolf. Every anatomical detail of the beast's mouth was inlaid on a slab of metal more massive than Velwrith had ever seen before.

Again the way was opened by unseen forces.

Velwrith swallowed and urged Sandbucket inside.