Dar leaned against Gwyn, trying to move his head so that he could see more. "We should try and put some more distance between us and those we left behind."

The kobold nodded again. "Stupider is right...scamper scamper!!'

Dar looked confused. “Did whoever this is just call me Stupid?”

Gwyn shook her head and started after the little beast. “No, I’m Stupid. You’re Stupider. Try to keep up.” And so they continued to climb into the rocky hills.

Treasure hunters delving into the necropolis of Tyrn Gorthad were held to be disreputable and base for pilfering ancient tombs of grave goods. But, Laicamiril reflected as she picked her way over a flying bridge over an unplumbable chasm, how was this any different than anyone who trespassed in Hadhodrond? The place was a colossal tomb.

Treasure hunters delving into the necropolis of Tyrn Gorthad were held to be disreputable and base for pilfering ancient tombs of grave goods. But, Laicamiril reflected as she picked her way over a flying bridge over an unplumbable chasm, how was this any different than anyone who trespassed in Hadhodrond? The place was a colossal tomb.

     Here is a tale for you, passed to my grandfather by his father, and then to my grandfather’s two sons (my father and uncle, you understand), and then told to my father’s wife (who, of course, is my mother), and from each of them to me.

F.A. 67

----

Cedwyn pulled at the front of her dress, lifting it to give her legs more room for movement as she ran through the bracken, into the nearby woodland.

Her breathing was heavy and her chest felt like it was burning as she tried to increase her pace, adrenalin and fear pumping through her body.  Her head turned, just a fraction, to see if she could see her pursuers and how close they were.

There were two hooded men with angry looking faces, both carrying axes and focused on catching her.

It was after a long day. The five year old girl was dragging a large fish, almost twice the size as herself, towards the slave quarters close to the lake. Hiding amongst the bushes and using a much smaller fish as a decoy, the little girl panted as she paused. Orcs had a history of stealing good catches from the Nurnhoth, which was why the girl was acting extra cautious bringing the large catfish she was lucky enough to harpoon back home.

This is a continuation of Black Iron - The Smith starts his fires (VI)

Also related to Black Iron - Thoughening up (IX) by Turuviel

And for this I but repeat Ethel’s own words, as she told it to me: