"And some are just desperate to survive," said Ess. "They think that, no matter the risk, if just this one roll of the dice comes up favorably, it could be the last big break they ever need. So they commit, and to the Chasm with the consequences."
Pierce considered that. Had he ever been that desperate? Many times, he'd thought that death had finally come for him, but at that point, nearly any risk was worth taking, if it meant keeping one's life. He didn't think he'd ever been so desperate for something more mundane.
"That really was something," he said to Ess.
"You've said," she smiled.
"About ten times," Agrathor grumbled.
"Hey, let the man be impressed," Ess chided. "I have been working alone quite often of late, without the affirmation of sycophants those in the Grand Halls of Discovery enjoy. I could use the praise."
"Which Skill was that?" Pierce asked. "What you used to kill them?"
Ess shook her head. "None of them, merely an intermediate application of biologically-oriented telekinesis."
"Intermediate?" Pierce asked in disbelief. "What is advanced?"
Ess shrugged almost imperceptibly in the mountain of her robes. "Greater numbers, wider range. Moving things with mass substantially greater than mine."
Pierce thought that funny. The slender, young-looking mage seemed quite petite in her generous coverings. What constituted a substantial ratio?
"That thought amuses you," she said, favoring him with bright eyes. "It is true, I am not a large person."
He blushed.
"But when Ess says, 'substantial,'" Axebourne said, "she means it. Push the word to its limits, and a little further, and that's what you get when Ess uses it."
Yet Scythia had said that Agrathor was likely the most powerful of the four of them. Pierce couldn't make it compute, but since it concerned the testy skeleton man, he decided not to pursue it for now.
They ate their boar meat in near silence after that, and the quiet of deepening night gave way to the nocturnal sounds of the dense forest.
The blood-red sun baked Pierce awake, stealing through breaks in the forest canopy. The others were already up. Likely Agrathor at least had not slept at all. Someone had gotten the raptorions on their feet, but they still looked a bit bleary-eyed, so Pierce had been allowed to sleep late while they finished recovering from the sedatives they'd been shot with.
It was nearly mid-morning before Gorgonbane set out again, leaving the unfortunate remains of the unnamed bandits to the scavengers of the forest.
Within a few hours, the forest relinquished its hold on the land, and the road to Grondell wound between a pair of low hills crowned with the ruins of old watchtowers. It looked like a wall and gate had once stood here, guarding the road, but now the rubble and wreckage were overgrown with brush and brambles.
From there it was a swift jaunt down the road as it threaded through ever rising hills to the grand old city of Grondell, standing tall on its mesa. Pierce had been there before, but not for long, and never in such stylish company.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Assuming Command
The mighty gates of Grondell stood open to the pilgrims that flowed toward the old city from the lands without. In any season, thousands of the devout would travel there to work, pray or learn in the Everlasting Temple, and the sub-temples, libraries, colleges and shrines that had grown up around it. There were people here from all corners of Overland. All were welcome, and on the surface at least, there was no distinction made between one parishioner and the next.
Gorgonbane attracted many looks of curiosity as they rode up to the city gates and passed through. Even among many thousands the living legends were well known by their descriptions, and besides this, they were travelling with a levitating wizard and an animated skeleton. They were bound to attract attention anywhere they went.
Grondell was fashioned all of a peculiar stone. The high defensive walls were made of blocks of wood that had been shaped, engraved, petrified by magic, and set in place. The surface of each block shimmered with a pale gold light of enchantment, preventing erosion, hardening the stone against impacts and foreign magic. The gates were likewise enchanted, and were massive things - thick bronze monoliths opened and closed by fearsome engines.
Pierce thought that if the Underlord's forces merely attempted some conventional attack, there was no way they would breach this ancient place. Certainly, no one ever had.
Grondell was consistently disorganized in the way of many old cities, but most people living there, or visiting, were intimately familiar with it. Pierce would have been lost here, for though he'd been before, he'd never really learned the place. But his companions, and everyone else he saw, seemed to know exactly where they were going, and what switchbacks, alleys, tunnels and overpasses to use to get there. He was happy to follow along, though he did think it could be interesting to get lost here on purpose. There was no telling what stories or mysteries he might encounter off the beaten path.
Axebourne had indicated that the city garrison's officers had their headquarters near Grondell's heart, the Everlasting Temple itself, and this is where Gorgonbane was currently headed.
Near the Temple, visitors looked more refined, if not necessarily higher in class. Men and women both wore robes woven with patterns in the Temple's own color palette - reds, golds, silvers, and oranges. Everyone was fresh-faced, clean and washed, and looked well-fed. The streets here were also more organized, fanning out from the Temple in concentric circles that were connected with short byways. Between the rings of streets stood smaller temples, shrines, lush gardens, clean taverns, and various shops and apartments.
In the middle of it all squatted the Holy Temple of Everlasting Transcendence. It was taller than the buildings around it, but not the highest building Pierce had ever seen by far. Most of its mass came from its wideness, sprawled across the
