Avishraa Reloaded

An-uxhwi had heard Evrith and Shyriath speak of Barith's Gate, the only pass with any real amount of accessibility through this part of the mountains. What he had not heard them say, however, was that “gate” was not merely a metaphorical description, but a literal one.

Though he had little detailed knowledge of stonework, the brief glimpse of it he had gotten from a distance suggested that it, or at least its foundation, was very old; newer, if somewhat more haphazard, construction had taken place higher up, but it rested on massive, solid stones that had clearly been there for ages. It also entirely blocked travel through the pass except by going through the gate, where there was considerable traffic.

Shyriath had, with surprisingly little complaint, instead volunteered to take the book around, by going through the rock. It was bound to be time-consuming and tiresome, but also considerably less trouble than trying to go through the gate without being noticed. And so a mobile hollow began traveling through the mountainside, with Shyriath inside it, as well as someone else occasionally keeping him company.

An-uxhwi was fulfilling this function when Shyriath once again paused in exhaustion. But at least from here, through the slot that served as an airhole and an observation point, there was a certain amount to see, because they had a good view down into the settlement that existed within the fortress of which the gate was part. Here, too, ancient stone buildings had been repaired, and new ones crammed in. Caravans entered in from either side, giving the meager settlement - and its inn - what life it had.

Shyriath grunted at the side before gently sliding into a heap on the floor. “Busy little place,” he wheezed. “Gods, what I'd give to be in an inn with proper beds. And food. And possibly a drink. And also whose denizens wouldn't kill me on sight.”

“That is the general problem we're facing, isn't it?” An-uxhwi echoed to share in the lament. Privately, he noticed an amount of envy for Shyriath's talent - in the deep darkness of the hollow, his memories were bringing him back to those awful mines he had escaped from. Being able to simply suffuse through the rock would have been an awfully useful trait to have, even if it cost this much energy. With a pickaxe, their current endeavour would certainly have taken longer than the time he had left in his life to even come to the current point. “Do you want to rest for a while?” he asked, encouragingly. “I have no bed to offer, but I could certainly bring you some food and drink from the book world.” Or Shyriath could disappear into it and get his own, of course.