Decisions

They headed through the woods to the south, sitting on a log for a rest around midday.

“So, four things to get,” Nystar said. “Which one are we getting first?”

It was a choice between south or west. The Harluke mountains meant they couldn’t go directly west, they’d have to head through a couple of elven cities, then through the lands of the humans to get to the lifeblood tunnels of the northwest.

The light of the deep would be a little more dangerous. They’d have to go southwest after leaving the human cities, into the lands of dwarves, and down the dwarven mines. The dwarves of those regions hated elves. Not to mention the dangers down in those mines.

The Badlands wouldn’t be too bad, but they’d have to pass either the orc city of Orthuc, or the dark elf city of Yaviskas. Either would be perilous for a prince of Lorian.

The seas to the south of the human cities filled Melinir with the most dread, not because of anything he knew about them, but because of what he didn’t. Nobody had journeyed to the islands and back and lived to tell the tale, none other than Dolostos. And he never spoke of it again.