On the seventh day of their grueling expedition, Bishop's warning drifted out through his parched lips, ravaged by the scorching sun and a fierce thirst, barely audible, "We've arrived at the Reptile Pass. Stay alert."

  Hitherto, their journey had consisted of an endless crossing of hills of varied sizes and unyielding sands. However, as they set foot on Pharrah, at the dawn of the tenth day, they stumbled upon a rugged path. More accurately, a canyon lay hidden between large hills, bearing veins of red rock on their surfaces. Traversing a road that was shielding them from the sun's sizzling heat for the first time was a boon for the caravan. As they delved deeper into the path, the shadows kept expanding.

  "I can hear whispers hissing like the wind," Raaz commented.

  Indeed, the faint sound of an occasional breeze graced their ears like the distant chime of a bell. Vegetation emerged gradually, a stark contrast against the desolate backdrop. Dry shrubs, clover grasses, and yucca trees with prickly trunks clung tenaciously to the red-hued hillsides that veiled the path. A glimpse of a desert fox graced the steep slopes briefly, vanishing at the sight of the travelers.

  "I believe we should christen this place 'Shadow Path'," Baaz quipped, his spirits lifted as the sloping terrain provided some respite from the harsh sun.

  As they approached a meandering curve, where the path narrowed considerably amidst fallen rocks and began its descent, an unexpected sight greeted them. Hundreds of scorpions materialized before them. Their crimson bodies and yellow appendages, some nearly a meter in length, poised their barbed tails menacingly in the air, challenging the advance of the vanguard soldiers.

  Bishop's raspy whisper pierced the air, "Retreat, swiftly. These scorpions pack a venomous punch."

  The front-line orcs scurried off in terror. The pathway and surrounding boulders were teeming with white scorpions. The caravan hurried to a secure haven in response to the surprise invasion of these toxic predators. The scorpions remained motionless, biding their time.

  "You called it the Reptile Pass, didn't you? Seems like the Red Bane Scorpions have gobbled up every last reptile," Baaz taunted, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

  Bishop didn't dignify the comment with a response, instead giving Baaz a withering glare.

  "By the gods! They're too numerous. What's the next course of action?" Raaz inquired, concern etched on his face.

  "Obviously, we'll build a raging inferno to scare them away from the path. You two, take a handful of orcs and harvest abundant timber from the hills' trees," Bishop ordered with conviction.

  The two elven scouts sprang into action, climbing the hills with ease, leaving the orcs who were struggling behind. Baaz, bored with the task at hand, spotted a steep hill with sharp-edged cliffs arranged in rows, making it appear unclimbable. It resembled a mushroom cap, sloping inward before tapering outward at the peak.

  "What are you up to, Baaz? Get back to work," the other elven scout snapped, scowling at him.

  "I'm scouting. We might need to chart a different path," Baaz retorted, his voice laced with defiance.

  He tested the power of his sinewy arms and nimble fingers, hunting for a stable rock to grasp. The ascent was a test of his agility and finesse, a veritable gymnastic feat, fraught with risk. In a matter of minutes, he ascended to the summit, vanishing from sight.

  Allendra offered her astute observation, "Once, this land was a coursing riverbed." Bishop, having just dismounted the camel and deposited the diminutive girl, heard her utterance but elected to remain mute. "Take yourself to the rocks yonder and prepare. We may yet require to conduct the ceremony this eve," he commanded.

  Allendra acquiesced in silence. Their throats were parched, and their limbs, weary. The encroachment of the scorpion army had drained their morale. Bishop's own misgivings, concealed from all, gnawed at him.

  "Where, pray tell, are their queens?" he pondered, casting wary glances in all directions.

  Allendra scowled as she settled down and unfurled the vellum parchments proffered by Bishop. The ominous script of the runes loomed before her. She scrutinized each intricate form and struggled to correctly intone their meanings. Weaving together the incisive and cutting emphasis that cleaved through her soul was an onerous task for the girl.

  Baaz, who had vanished from view after departing the canyon, bellowed from a lofty perch, alerting Bishop to his presence.

  "As far as I can deduce, this canyon takes a bend to the east and broadens beyond that bend. Allegedly, a tunnel lies in wait at that juncture. But, alas, a daunting rocky fa?ade impeded my progress. I might have scaled those crags with the aid of a spider climb spell, had I possessed the requisite magical materials. Strangely enough, not a single spider was to be found in this vicinity."

  Bishop shrugged nonchalantly. His divine spells didn't require any magical components; he only needed to supplicate his deity, Therion The Lord of Darkness, and channel the raw energy that emanated from the god's absolute ownership. His greatest obstacle was the sporadic failure of his entreaties to reach the ears of his deity or to be deemed worthy of an answer.

  "I discerned the resounding clamor of water emanating from the bowels of the rocky formation," Baaz chimed in.

  The black-cloaked cleric's eyes glimmered with anticipation.

  "We must locate a way to transverse to the other side of this canyon. In all likelihood, there might be another grotto or water source to be found there. We must devise a scheme to attain our objective."

  Baaz nodded assent and vanished without a trace. They never heard from the mist elf after that. Time fleetingly flowed by, and the sun had already passed its zenith. Bishop mused about sending Raaz in search of him but swiftly discarded the notion. The martial mist elf had deduced from the anxiety-ridden gaze of the black-robed priest that he was retaining certain secrets, as he was prone to do.

  As dusk encroached, Bishop's edginess ratcheted up. He directed the orcs and ogres to amass boulders and heap up sand to erect a bulwark. The obscurity became more obscure as the day gave way to night.

  "I sense an air of concern about you, revered Bishop," Raaz remarked, unable to hold back.

  "If we do not discover a way to depart this place ere the night descends..." the priest's sentence was interrupted.

  "So we are ensnared. Shall we turn back?"

  "No, we cannot. This passage is our only way to our destination."

  "What do you expect to face?"

  The priest gestured towards the scorpions. "We shall come face-to-face with their queen, somewhere in this vicinity. Her powerful aura can be felt."

  "How large is she?"

  "According to legend, she is sizable enough. Curse that Baaz, where has he disappeared? We require every man. Stay vigilant, warrior."

  Raaz stretched out in anger. "I am forever prepared," he declared. He retrieved a pitch-black obsidian stone from the pocket of his dark grey robe and began honing his sword with fervour.

  Allendra had surreptitiously eavesdropped on their conversation, and the little girl's terror had intensified. When Bishop noticed, he scowled and firmly warned her to keep memorising.

  The anxious waiting persisted until late afternoon. The sun was on the brink of setting. Baaz's prolonged absence, the scorpions' disquieting footfalls, and the sounds of their tails striking the rocks, gradually grew louder like a beating drum.

  Raaz stood with his sword clutched tightly, bracing himself for the impending attack from the enemy, and reported to the venerable priest, "All is ready for the rite."

  The priest, running his sand-filled, grey-streaked beard through his fingers as he observed the setting sun with care, commanded, "Ignite the flames. The ritual shall commence anon."

  They set the scrub they had stacked between themselves and the scorpions ablaze. The dense odor of prickly foliage enveloped them, and billows of black smoke ascended into the heavens. Then, as if out of nowhere, the sky darkened with stormy clouds, as a blood-curdling wail rang out from the north. The ground began to quake, and Raaz knew that the source of the tremor came from the high plateau beyond the hill that Baaz had scaled. Mounds of sand showered upon them.

  The Bishop sprinkled some powder onto the flames, releasing a burning and overpowering aroma.

  "Listen well, little one. The scorpions will imminently attack us, and it is time to demonstrate your knowledge. You will recite the arcane incantations, and I shall channel the energy emanating from the obsidian smoke towards them. Should you fail to maintain the inferno and flee in terror, all will be lost, including yourself. This is a battle of life and death. Do you comprehend?"

  Allendra nodded, her voice quivering, "Yes, sir."

  The moment had arrived. The priest barked his orders, commanding the girl to recite the ancient runes. Allendra obeyed without question.

  "Inna morra, buarra, inna morra, soarra..."

  As the words spilled from her lips, they rose and echoed, magnified by the power of the flames. Sand cascaded down from the hills encircling the canyon, and scorpions skittered towards the inferno. The smoke billowed higher, and footsteps thudded closer.

  "At last, their queens arrive," Raaz growled with pleasure.

  Allendra glimpsed the fierce, unyielding glint in the elf warrior's eyes. Fear seized the girl, and she squeezed her eyes shut. The orcs and ogres fell back, forming a barrier around the fire, with Raaz leading them.

  "Anathra, berthar, inna lorra, roarra..."

  A storm erupted from the heavens, rain lashing down in sheets, wind whipping up a tempest that battered them from all sides. Despite the onslaught, the fire continued to blaze, casting an eerie light over the scene. Orcs who had been parched and thirsty for days in the desert greedily lapped at the muddy water that fell from the skies.

  Allendra cracked her eyes open a sliver and spotted the looming shadow of a colossal scorpion. Beasts the size of men clashed with the frontline orcs, but the warrior elf dodged their blows with lethal grace. All the while, the priest wove the inky black smoke into a weapon and hurled it at the scorpions. Allendra shut her eyes again and continued chanting, terrified of what might come next. The screams, the searing heat, the stench of smoke clogging her nostrils, the spattering of muddy droplets against her skin, the hissing and snapping of pincers... it was all too much to bear. She fought to remain conscious, urging herself to hold on just a little longer.

  "Athinna moarra, buharra, inna moharra, soarra..."

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  The storm raged on, growing stronger with every passing moment. The ground trembled beneath their feet, threatening to crumble into dust.

  "Run!" someone shouted in the distance.

  The ritual was broken, and the words died on Allendra's tongue. Overwhelmed by the onslaught, she let out a piercing scream. After that, she remembered nothing.

  At first, they perceived the rumble of colossal boulders disintegrating and rupturing. Next, grains of sand and rocky debris blanketed their forms. Suddenly, like a deluge unleashed from a mighty waterfall, tons of water surged through the entire canyon. All of them recognized that this tempestuous torrent could not be solely attributed to the inclement weather. They found themselves abruptly swept away by the raging waters. The young girl fought to remain buoyant, but the force of the current was too great. She teetered on the brink of drowning, until she faintly recalled glimpsing a cable or a rope that encircled her frame, and an enigmatic force hoisting her up.

  She jolted awake, expelling a torrent of water and mire she had swallowed. Their surroundings had transformed into an arid and sterile terrain, encircled by sedimentary rocks and crests. Muck smothered every surface in sight. Baaz sat beside her while Bishop retched nearby. However, there was no sign of Raaz, the orcs, or the ogres.

  "What happened? Where are we?" Allendra gasped.

  "Alive, and that's what counts. What else matters?" Baaz snickered.

  "And the others?"

  Baaz grinned silently, offering no response.

  * * *

  Upon ascending to the high plateau, Baaz cast a watchful eye upon his surroundings. The vast and unforgiving desert lay to the north, stretching out as far as the eye could see. The westward path, marked by a towering range of jagged mountains, appeared to be the sole passage. To overcome the mountain's sheer face, he could employ the ancient sorcery of spider climb. Alas, he lacked the essential ingredient, a live spider, and had yet to encounter one in the barren desert.

  Baaz traversed parallel to the canyon, seeking a crossing point where the elevation intersected with the canyon. The mountainside rose like an impregnable fortress wall, unscalable by mere human grip alone. He contemplated descending beyond the scorpion's realm. At the intersection, the mountains widened southward, and just below lay a cave or tunnel, likely a continuation of the caravan's canyon path. The scorpions were emerging from this tunnel, scuttling towards the group.

  He lingered in the area, attuned to the sounds and movements of the scorpions.

  As time ticked by, Baaz witnessed ever larger scorpions emerging from the tunnel, prompting him to conclude that venturing into that area would not be wise. Pressing his ear to the mountain's rugged facade, he discerned two distinct sounds: the first, a tumultuous rush of water; the second, a cacophony of clattering rattles and piercing screams. The reverberations emanating from the tunnel's depths grew increasingly ominous, causing him to surmise that even more gargantuan scorpions might emerge after sunset. Upon conferring with Bishop, he divulged information about the water, but kept his thoughts on the colossal scorpions to himself.

  Thereafter, he resolved to traverse northward along the mountain's base. He journeyed unhindered for roughly three kilometers before catching sight of some movement about five hundred meters to the east, amidst the undulating dunes of sand. Although the rising plume of dust obscured his view, the commotion was undeniable. His knowledge of the Pharah continent was meager at best. Nevertheless, he had taken note of the abundant lore concerning mythical creatures that were frequently mentioned in the Barren Lands, including the colossal, Hook Teeth-like worms that might very well present themselves in the desert.

  Baz hesitated for a brief moment, waiting with uncertainty. No other plumes of dust had ascended. He deduced that the stillness weakened the prospect of a colossal creature's presence. Advancing cautiously with silent steps over the sand dunes, he progressed towards the source of the commotion. Climbing a sand dune taller than the others, he beheld a broad opening, stretching to about one thousand and five hundred paces, in the heart of the concealed plain amidst the great sand dunes. At the center lay a vast and likely deep abyss with a hundred-foot diameter.

  The Snakeskins, garbed in barely anything, congregated around the chasm, performing a ritual. Five drummed a small drum with their hands, while another five played an exotic melody on a flute-like wind instrument. The remaining twenty waved their spears around, dancing, turning, and singing. He watched them in silence for a while. A few guttural roars emanated from the abyss's depths. The tempo of the ceremony intensified with each roar.

  "Blast it. They're summoning the beast here," he muttered to himself.

  Helpless against thirty foes, Baaz, the mist elf, decided to turn back to warn the others. But then the ground shook with such ferocity that he lost his footing and tumbled towards the plain. The Snakeskins had spotted him and hurled their spears. Baaz scrambled to his feet, pulled out an obsidian jar and flint from his pocket, and kindled a fire. He hesitated before looking at the wick of the jar. Time was running out.

  Baaz drew a deep breath, clutching the one enchanted bomb he had left. Was it the right moment to unleash its power? He couldn't tell. Yet he lit the fuse, aimed with care, and hurled the bomb towards the pit. A thunderous blast and a howl echoed from the depths, interrupting the Snakeskins' ritual. The crazed warriors swarmed towards Baaz.

  He glimpsed a swift figure felled by an arrow that flew from an eastern route, more than six hundred meters away. Only one elf could shoot with such deadly accuracy: the same one who had nearly struck the priest during their escape from Wassel port. The halfling stood beside him.

  The elf of mist bolted away in a diagonal stride, paying no heed to the rear. The earth quaked once again, but this time with greater ferocity. A deafening growl reverberated in his ears, and then, all transmuted into dust.

  Baaz knelt down, feeling as hapless as he had ever felt before. He surveyed his surroundings; it was akin to a scene that could have been spawned from the bowels of hell itself. The somber clouds, deluge of rain, dust clouds billowing from the tempestuous winds, cacophonous tremors that shook the ground, and assorted debris that pummeled him incessantly, all coalesced to form an environment of complete chaos. The only certainty he had was that the colossal creature was drawing nearer.

  His survival instincts kicked in, and he took off wildly, without knowing which direction to take. He could hear the sounds of the massive beast scraping the earth. As he attempted to wipe his face, he discerned a small creature crawling on it: a minuscule spider. He grinned, taking the creature into his palm with great care. Looking towards the peaks that resembled shadowy forms, he continued running in the direction he hoped was west. The gargantuan worm that had fixed its sights on Baaz continued its pursuit.

  The ground continued to quake, thunder rolled, and the tempest and rain grew ever more intense.

  As Baaz looked back, he witnessed the giant beast impaled by a flurry of arrows, and heard its piercing, anguished screams. He surmised that the elf of Galanadel had unleashed those venomous projectiles. What compelled the elf to aid him, he wondered. But he had no time to ponder. He fixed his gaze on his goal, and chanted the mystic incantation. Like a spider, he began to scale the mountain's sheer surface, which towered before him like an impassable wall. Then, the reverberating howls of the colossal creature echoed through the air as it collided with the steep slopes, and the sound of the wall rupturing split the silence.

  Finally, the sound Baaz had anticipated reverberated through the earth. The mountain's surface, hollowed and weakened by the giant creature's ferocious assault, splintered and caved in on itself in multiple layers close to the ground. The part of the tunnel from which the scorpions had emerged also collapsed. Water gushed forth from both the spot where the tunnel's roof had given way and the point where the monstrous worm had first cracked the surface. The ground convulsed relentlessly, with a fearsome, bone-shattering intensity.

  As the road to the west was blocked by mountain ranges, a deluge of water surged from the depths, and when the cave walls crumbled, it suddenly altered course. The flood's raw power surged towards the canyon, breaching the elevations in its path and bifurcating into two arms.

  With no escape to the opposite side, the caravan in the canyon was helplessly pulled westward by the gushing floodwaters. The initial deluge had already swept away the majority of the scorpions. Baaz, an adroit and battle-hardened warrior, scuttled around the high points like a spider, following his companions being dragged for several hundred meters. First, he rescued Allendra, then the priest. Raaz, a nimble and seasoned fighter, had saved himself. Three ogres flung themselves into one of the newly formed crevices. Most of the orcs were deceased, leaving only three. The crestfallen ogres, in a fit of rage, drowned and killed them.

  * * *

  For five consecutive days, Paliborn and his comrades drove their dromedaries towards the northwest, scarcely pausing for breath.

  Their daily ritual remained unchanged: Arvedas tracked the trail, while Xian conjured water with his magical powers. Most days, they traversed in silence, and even Paliborn had become uncommunicative.

  On the fifth day, under the scorching sun, their weary minds were besieged by an instant of hesitation: how would they surmount the colossal mountain range that obstructed their path westward, appearing like a rampart? The tracks had become faint, and they were uncertain where their prey had led. Xian was ignorant of the spell for climbing like a spider, and his mastery of flight magic was inadequate. Eventually, they identified a low point in the peaks and resolved to proceed in that direction. A few hours later, they perceived a distant rumble, as the darkening sky and gusting winds foretold of an approaching tempest.

  The most nimble members of the group, Arvedas and Paliborn, hastened their strides and embarked on a scouting mission. After crossing innumerable sand dunes, they beheld a sacred site located half a kilometer away. Paliborn was unable to discern the details clearly, but Arvedas managed to discern another elf concealed amidst the throng.

  Galanadel elf's finger pointed to the north, "One of the elusive elves that fled is over yonder. Concealed on the northern side."

  "How can you see that far, Arvedas?" Paliborn inquired skeptically.

  "A point-blank shot away," the Galanadel elf replied with a smug grin, rare for him. He tautened his bowstring, fixing his sights on his target.

  "Not so fast. We mustn't act rashly without knowing the whereabouts of the others. And it is imperative that we capture him unscathed," Paliborn asserted.

  Arvedas wasn't content with such a proposition, "Then I'll put an arrow in his leg."

  "The range is far too great," Paliborn responded.

  "Not for me," Arvedas answered with a glint in his eye.

  But Paliborn shook his head, "No, we must proceed with caution."

  Just then, the sky ruptured with a tempest of rain and sand, obscuring their vision. Paliborn and Arvedas endeavored to close the distance, when abruptly the ground convulsed. Losing their footing, they gazed as a haze of dust and agonizing cries emanated from the pit below.

  Arvedas, swiftly regaining his footing, glimpsed the enemy elf down in the plain. Observing the mist elf had ignited something and tossed it into the heart of the ceremony, Arvedas readied his bow and arrow as he waited for Paliborn to catch up,

  "The elf appears to be in peril, besieged by serpent skins. What are your orders, Pal?"

  "Protect him," Paliborn proclaimed without hesitation.

  With unflinching determination, Arvedas released his arrow, shattering the serpent skin that was hurtling towards the mist elf, saving Baaz's life in the nick of time.

  The earth quaked violently, followed by a chorus of monstrous roars. A colossal dust cloud billowed up, and both of them gazed at the creature rising from the pit with stupefaction. It was an immense worm, no less than thirty meters long and five meters wide.

  "Incredible. It's a Sand Eater. I thought they were extinct long ago," Paliborn breathed in awe.

  "It appears the enemy elf has roused it to a fury. It's going to pursue him," Arvedas said, his eyes trained on the colossal worm.

  From behind them, Dylan yelled, "Thick smoke is pouring in from the south. There must be a canyon down there."

  Paliborn gazed towards the indicated direction. It was not far away. Three kilometers in the distance, black fumes ascended skywards.

  "What's our next move?" Arvedas asked.

  This was a difficult decision for the halfling leader. Should they follow the colossal worm that was chasing the enemy elf, or should they investigate the source of the smoke?

  "We will split into two groups. Dylan, you and Xian will investigate the source of the smoke. We will follow the giant worm and the elf."

  Paliborn and Arvedas trailed the colossal worm, its monstrous form wriggling through the treacherous terrain. With Arvedas' quick reflexes and precision, he managed to impede the beast's pursuit of Baaz by launching a flurry of arrows. Yet, the pain was not enough to dissuade the worm, and it continued to chase its prey with a relentless determination. Finally, it slammed into the wall-like skirts of the rocky mountain with a deafening impact, its full velocity spent in the collision. Baaz, with his magical prowess, scaled the mountain's peak like a spider, disappearing into the abyss in a matter of seconds.

  Arvedas glanced at Paliborn once again, knowing that he has a clear shot, but Paliborn rejected the idea with a shake of his head. Paliborn somehow knew the mist elf's actions were driven for the sake of Allendra, and he trusted his intuition. Meanwhile, water spurted out of crevices, and the mountain's left side crumbled into pieces. The two retreated to a higher vantage point and observed Dylan and Xian safe in their elevated position.

  "There's more to this than meets the eye, I believe there was another threat down there, one we failed to see. The elf led the giant worm here for a purpose," Paliborn whispered.

  Arvedas remained silent, processing Paliborn's words. While they pondered their next move, a colossal scorpion emerged onto the plateau, but it wasn't targeting them.

  They stood frozen, transfixed by the spectacle before them. The scorpion and worm engaged in a fierce battle, their giant forms clashing in a clash to the death. Arvedas drew his bow, anticipating a potential threat from the worm. When the dust settled, the scorpion emerged victorious, but with grievous injuries. The worm descended the peak from which it came and vanished from sight, leaving them to catch their breath.

  "I didn't anticipate this. Seeing both a giant worm and scorpion in the same vicinity can't be good," Paliborn muttered.

  "The world is full of surprises, my friend. And the night is still young," replied Arvedas, a hint of excitement in his voice.

  "Have we journeyed with you before, Arvedas?" Paliborn asked curiously.

  "Perhaps in another life," replied Arvedas with a sincere smile, before darting off to check on the others."

  The exhausted halfling gazed up at the abyssal, ink-black, starless sky suffused with murky clouds. The rain and tempest had subsided, leaving them drenched in mud. Paliborn inhaled deeply, and with a weary hand, he wiped the grime off his face.

  "We're almost there, Eli. Just hold on a bit longer," he exhaled, his voice drained of vigor.

  Arvedas hollered out to Xian and Dylan, and the quartet forged ahead, combing the rubble for a passage, drained and spent. Although they were drawing near to the other party, they were in dire need of respite, yet they pressed on relentlessly.