Chapter Five: Into the Burning Land

 

The voyage from Velious to Kunark took many days.

As the ship cut through the waters of the Ocean of Tears, Caradawc spent long hours standing at the rail watching the endless horizon. Beside him, Izzy often spoke of the places she hoped to see, while Sunflower and Skittlesz debated which of the stories they had heard about Kunark were most likely to be true.

Most agreed on one thing.

Kunark was different.

Older.

Wilder.

More dangerous.

The continent had only recently become widely accessible to the peoples of Norrath, and stories of ancient kingdoms, lost magic, and forgotten treasures had spread rapidly across Antonica, Faydwer, and Odus.

By the time the ship finally entered the harbour of Firiona Vie, Caradawc understood why.

The docks were crowded with adventurers.

Humans from Qeynos and Freeport.

Dwarves from Kaladim.

Elves from Kelethin and Felwithe.

Erudites from Odus.

Barbarians from the frozen north.

Dozens of expeditions were forming and reforming throughout the settlement. Some sought wealth. Others sought glory. Many sought knowledge.

For everywhere one travelled in Firiona Vie, the same rumours could be heard.

Ancient spells.

Lost techniques.

Forgotten magical artefacts.

Knowledge buried beneath the ruins of empires older than any kingdom now standing.

The lure of discovery drew adventurers onward like moths toward a flame.

Before long, Caradawc and his companions found themselves joining the great migration inland.

The road through Kunark proved unlike anything they had experienced before.

Towering jungles stretched across the landscape.

Ancient ruins emerged unexpectedly from the undergrowth.

Strange cries echoed through the forests at night.

The continent seemed alive.

The further inland they travelled, the more dangerous the journey became.

The Burning Woods in particular earned its reputation.

Predatory creatures stalked the shadows beneath the trees.

Enormous insects emerged without warning.

Vines seemed almost determined to drag travellers from the safety of the road.

More than once the expedition was forced to fight simply to continue moving forward.

Yet the dangers brought opportunities as well.

The adventurers travelling eastward rarely remained in the same groups for long.

Some turned back after suffering injuries.

Others completed their goals and moved elsewhere.

New arrivals constantly appeared from Firiona Vie.

Groups formed.

Groups dissolved.

Companions changed.

Caradawc quickly realised that every new company required something different from him.

A group built around powerful warriors required one approach.

A company relying upon spellcasters required another.

Some needed healing.

Some needed protection.

Some needed spiritual guidance.

Others needed an enemy weakened before battle could safely begin.

With each changing group, Caradawc learned something new about his craft.

He was no longer merely learning spells.

He was learning people.

Each companion brought different strengths.

Each expedition taught different lessons.

And with every passing week, he became a more capable shaman.

At night, the adventurers gathered around campfires and exchanged stories.

It was there that the name first began to dominate every conversation.

Chardok.

Some described it as an ancient fortress.

Others called it a lost city.

A few claimed it was a kingdom hidden beneath the mountains.

No two stories agreed entirely.

Yet every tale contained the same promise.

Knowledge.

Power.

Secrets waiting to be uncovered.

The deeper they travelled into Kunark, the more frequently the name appeared.

Until eventually it seemed that every road led toward Chardok.

It was during this period that Sunflower approached Caradawc one evening after most of the camp had settled for the night.

The jungle hummed softly beyond the circle of firelight.

"I've been asked to undertake a special mission," she said.

Caradawc looked up.

"With whom?"

"Skittlesz."

A faint smile crossed her face.

Caradawc nodded.

Both women had earned the respect of many adventurers during the journey.

He was not surprised that opportunities had begun to present themselves.

"There is more to it than that," Sunflower continued.

The smile faded.

For a long moment she stared into the fire.

"I have been thinking."

Caradawc waited.

"I've watched you and Izzy."

The barbarian glanced toward the far side of the camp where the cleric sat speaking with several adventurers.

Sunflower followed his gaze.

"I knew the two of you had travelled together before."

"We met in Blackburrow."

"And Splitpaw."

Caradawc nodded.

Sunflower smiled sadly.

"I think perhaps your road and hers are leading in the same direction."

The barbarian remained silent.

"I don't want to become something that stands in the way of that."

For a moment neither spoke.

Finally Caradawc said quietly,

"You should do what you think is best."

Sunflower studied him for a moment before nodding.

"I thought you might say that."

The following morning she and Skittlesz prepared to leave.

There were no dramatic farewells.

No promises.

Only the understanding that roads sometimes diverged.

Sunflower embraced Izzy.

Skittlesz exchanged jokes with Caradawc until both were laughing.

Then the two women shouldered their packs and departed with a company bound for another corner of Kunark.

At the edge of the trail, Sunflower turned and raised a hand in farewell.

Caradawc returned the gesture.

Moments later the jungle swallowed them from sight.

Though he did not realise it at the time, it would be the last occasion on which he travelled beside either of them.

The expedition continued onward.

The mountains gradually rose before them.

Ancient roads appeared among the wilderness.

Ruined stonework hinted at the existence of a civilisation far older than any currently living upon the continent.

The closer they drew, the more excitement spread among the adventurers.

Stories gave way to reality.

Rumours became landmarks.

At last they rounded a bend in the mountain road and saw it.

Chardok.

The city rose from the mountainside like something from another age.

Massive walls towered above the surrounding jungle.

Ancient gates stood watch over the approaches.

Even from a distance the place radiated power.

For several moments nobody spoke.

The stories had not done it justice.

This was not a dungeon.

This was a kingdom.

Around the entrance, adventurers from every corner of Norrath had gathered.

Some prepared to enter.

Others returned wounded from unsuccessful attempts.

Clerics treated injuries.

Wizards discussed strategy.

Veterans compared scars earned within the city.

The place had already humbled many who had come seeking its secrets.

As Caradawc surveyed the crowd, a familiar voice suddenly called out.

"By the spirits, is that really you?"

He turned.

Then stared in surprise.

"Cymru?"

The beastlord pushed through the crowd with a broad grin upon his face.

Beside him padded his loyal warder.

The two barbarians clasped forearms in greeting.

"I thought you were still in Splitpaw," said Caradawc.

"And I thought you were still getting lost in Blackburrow," Cymru replied.

Both laughed.

Izzy shook her head.

"How did you get here?"

Cymru gestured vaguely toward the horizon.

"The long way."

The answer only made him laugh harder.

That evening the old companions sat together around a campfire and exchanged stories.

Though their journeys had taken different paths, somehow those roads had brought them all to the same destination.

Tomorrow they would attempt to enter Chardok.

Tomorrow the true challenge would begin.

For one evening, however, old friends sat together beneath the stars and celebrated the roads that had reunited them.

Beyond the campfires, the ancient city waited silently in the darkness.

Its secrets remained hidden.

But not for much longer.