Columba Riverford and Samshad Woodwright looked along the paltry trail and hesitated.
All around them soared frost-tipped mountains, towering escarpments of cold bare stone, their sides so steep as to defeat the purchase of all but the hardiest of vegetation. To their immediate left was one such mountainside, scales of shale themselves holding for dear life to the mountain lest they too be cast into the abyss below.
The abyss below but inches away on a trail treacherous for a mountain goat, Columba shook his head. “I can see why travelers often take the low road.”
“Tis clear why few come this way anymore.” The big man perched on a small trail looked dangerously close to falling from being top-heavy alone. “I"d have thought we"d reached the mines of Stonevale ere too long.”
Although for
