The Unknown Cavern

Each of these wolves was far larger than a courser horse. Their grey furs and deep blue eyes were enough for him to know they were antherions, wolves which had been harnessing the power of Ether.

The ones to his sides put on a sudden burst of speed that propelled them closer to Lynn. Soon, he could hear them salivating as they closed in on him. At this point, he was tired and worn out, but he continued to run towards a small hill, overlooking a narrow valley to the north.

He collapsed against the base of the hill and turned around before using a few seconds to catch his breath. Just a stone throw from him, stood the largest member of the wolf pack. The wolf with its head low to the ground, stayed still, watching Lynn. A deep growl rumbling from its throat. Lynn stopped and drew out the steel sword he took before leaving his clansmen. He'd seen wolves take down prey before, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

The huge wolves circled him, pacing and watching, ever drawing closer. They continued this routine until the nearest was no more than five or six paces away. Their breath formed a nimbus of misty cloud around them. Yet, they didn't attack him, but they were hounding him, waiting for their master, the Worg.

The stink of them hit Lynn and he coughed in apprehension. He was turning in all directions trying to keep the wolves at bay when he saw a hidden narrow opening at the base of the rocky hill. Without giving it a second thought, he ran to the crevice and squeezed his body through the opening. By the time the wolves realized what was happening, Lynn had gained a few precious seconds on them.

The wolves quickly bore down on him. But before their fangs could get hold of him, he had managed to pull himself through to the other side of the crevice. He watched the wolves' snarling and growling, trying to get inside but were too large to fit in. Their deadly eyes set on Lynn, forcing him to crawl away from the crevice, backwards. Behind the wolves, he could see the eyes of the Worg, partially concealed in a shimmering shadow.

Slowly, he turned around and stared into the darkness that was partially lit by the rays of sunlight that passed through the small opening, high above. Gradually his eyes began to adjust. Stony walls, detached stones, and scuttling insects appeared before him in subtle shades of red.

In a hunched position, he began moving down the low tunnel. At some points he was forced to crawl on his belly over heaps of rubble where the tunnel had caved in. The foul air was oppressive, but he breathed it in shallow gasps through his open mouth. Determined to find another opening out of the hole, and away from the wolves, Lynn moved forward.

All of a sudden, after covering several yards, he came to a halt. The passageway, which had been level, up to this point, suddenly plunged down before him. The darkness here was highly unnerving but he had no choice, but to keep going forward, looking for an exit. After his eyes had adjusted to the dark passage, he saw a glimmer of light at the far side of the tunnel. Slowly, he walked towards the light, his legs crushing what sounded like remains of some animals.

The further he walked, the more of the eerie feeling he had. It was as if the whole tunnel was not made of stone, but was alive. The feeling was as if he had been swallowed by an enormous creature, and was now moving around in its stomach, raising hot bile in his throat.

Soon, he reached an incline. Keeping his center of balance low to the floor, he inched his way over the edge of the incline. His legs skidded on a layer of slime and he fell. His hands shot out, but it was no use. The walls and floor of the tunnel were both dripping with slick slime. His legs and fingers scrabbled furiously against the slimy surface. He was about to make it back up to the edge of the incline, when he lost his grip and careened headlong down the steep slope.

Lynn fought hard to slow his descent but to no avail. Covered in slime and out of control, he slid faster and faster. He flailed in fear as he plummeted through cold air, wondering how long he had until he struck the bottom. Out of instinct, he snapped his body around and reached out with his right hand. His fingers slipped as they brushed across rough stone, before they took hold of a sharp crevice. The sudden halt in descent nearly wrenched his shoulder from its socket. "Aaaargh!"

He let go of the crevice and plummeted the rest of the way down. He offered some prayers to the mourning gods to prevent him from falling to his death. Fortunately, he landed on a large mound of hay and straw, breathing hard for a few long minutes.

After what appeared to be eternity, he dragged himself off the nest and leaned against the wall of the cavern, holding his right shoulder. From his backpack, he removed some herbal plants and began to chew them to relieve the agonizing pain. Some minutes later, he was able to shake off his the pain and his grogginess before gazing around. He realized he was at the center of a large circular chamber that resembled a lair of a large rodent.

He hadn't seen much of creatures in his life, but as a member of a hunting clan, he knew what a rodent's lair looked like. And what he was staring at, resembled a giant rodent's nest. But how could a rodent be many times larger than a dire wolf? It looked deadly strange. Nonetheless, he was grateful. He knew if he hadn't he landed on the padded straws and hays, he would now be lying on the floor over forty feet below, gruesomely wounded or, more likely, dead. More so, the owner of the nest could be nearby.

Craning his neck, he gazed upward. He could just make out the edge of the tunnel from which he had fallen, around fifty feet above. There was no way he woud reach that height. So he let out a deep breath, and decided to continue pushing forward.

A short distant away, he saw a massive stone statues on the opposite sides of the chamber. Above it was a large opening on the cavern wall which resembled a passage. If he could use the statue as a ladder, he should be able to reach the opening.

Spurred on by renewed hope, he felt for crevices and protrusions and started inching his way up the statue. Although he couldn't feel much pain on his right shoulder, he found it difficult to use, but he didn't stop. But ss he was about to reach the back of the statue, he perceived a peculiar odour in the air, sharp and metallic, like the scent of the air before a lightning storm.