"Stop," commanded Vaida, his eyes scanning over the vast expanse in the valley below. Taltosh beckoned his companions forward to see what lay on the horizon.
What opened up before them was a wasteland, barren and fetid, a land not fit even for a vulture. The sky over it was black and massive, swirling in eldritch patterns unknown to any of the Grudgebearers. It pulled at the very core of their souls, pleaded for them to venture forth. "My friends, this is no place for men, not even the dead," Vaida advised them, "if you go, you will die, and I cannot lead my people into the same fate." Taltosh nodded, and looked to his companions. They too, heard that same faraway call. "Thank you for your hospitality, Vaida. We shall meet again."
The Grudgebearers began the dark journey down the cliff's face. They could all see the caravan leaving, but none regretted the choice. They had spent much time fighting with the Laffin' Skull, learning not only how to fight, but how to overcome a stronger opponent.
The climb down taxed them to exhaustion. All the while, gale winds came from below, as if to tear them from the cliff, heavy rains slicked their hand and footholds, and lightning lashed out at them, as if some dark hand were guiding it.
But they overcame it, their bodies collapsing at the base. The soil here was no better. It stuck to their skin and clothing, staining everything with a deep earthen red. It was slick and foul-smelling, like clotted blood and bile.
They stood, and marched forward. It was obvious to them that there would be no stopping to rest. Marius began to chant in his native language, hymns that he had learned to keep malevolent spirits and powers out of reach. Barely had he begun than a sharp, horrid howling could be heard from behind them.
But what? And how? From where just moments before the Grudgebearers had reached the bottom, now approached a pair of hounds. No beast so foul had ever been seen by any of these men, and each stood as tall as they. They bore their massive fangs, twice the span of a man's hand! The beasts charged, and with fiendish fury. Azrael swung his massive blade and made contact with one of the great beasts. He felt the creature being cleaved in two, and turned to face it again. But there was no blooded beast, nary a scratch on the massive creature he could have sworn had fallen! The other four Grudgebearers were having less luck with the other. The two of them pinned beneath their shields, it was all Ra'Shalm and Garagrim could do to keep the beast from biting their heads off. Marius drove his axe into the creature's spine, and it let out a shriek as it shuddered and died.
Staring the last beast in the eyes, Azrael waited for it to make a move. Azrael stomped once with his foot, and the beast, thinking he meant to attack, lunged forward at him. Azrael only moved, and brought his blade down on the nape of the creature's neck, severing it's head.
But the beasts did not just lay dead. Their bodies wracked, and foul smoke spewed from their wounds as they vanished in a thunderous crack. They looked to eachother, and only then could they begin to comprehend the danger they were in. The adrenaline faded from their bodies, they were all near fainting. They could not climb back up the cliff. They could not rest. They could only go forward.
They knew then that Vaida was right. This was no place for men. They now walked with evil.
This valley would be their tomb.
