Harbinger of Doom series by Glenn G. Thater

Author:Glenn G. Thater [Thater, Glenn G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-01-22T05:00:00+00:00

Somehow, while holding the ensorcelled talisman, Tanch knew which way to turn, though he knew not their destination, nor their full route. He led the group through the fair districts of Lomion City and then down into a seedier neighborhood called The Heights. There, the broad avenues gave way to alleyways, narrow and grim. The streets became a maze and all manner of ruffians, beggars, and vagabonds prowled the ways. A far cry from the beautiful, tree-lined lanes of the High Quarter or the Mercantile District, but no worse than the coarser sections of other cities of the realm.

Despite the nondescript cloaks worn by the group, the wary denizens of The Heights marked their passing. Some folk made way for the sturdy group, and others stood glaring from doorways, windows, and darkened alleys. Not a place for an outsider to pass safely alone this was.

“Just where are you taking us, Mister Tanch?” said Dolan.

“To Master Pipkorn, I hope,” said the wizard. “Assuming that this thing actually works.”

“Where is Old Pointy Hat hiding?” said Ob.

“I can't say, I'm afraid, though it seems we're heading for Southeast.”

“Southeast! Oh, that just beats it,” said Ob. “All we need.”

“It can't be much worse than this place,” said Dolan.

“The Heights are a palace compared to Southeast,” said Ob. “Good thing I brought my axe.”

“You bring your axe everywhere,” said Tanch.

“Gnomes are always prepared. That's why we're so long lived.”

“How much farther, Mister Tanch?” asked Dolan.

“We're there, laddie,” said Ob gesturing ahead.

Before the group was a high stone wall, many feet thick, with a massive wood and steel gate and iron portcullis, both open. Several armed Lomion City guardsmen stood about and approached when the group made to pass through.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” said one of the guards, apparently the officer in charge.

“Afternoon,” said Ob loudly, standing on his toes to catch the officer's eye.

“This is Mideon Gate; beyond lies Southeast,” said the guard. He addressed Theta and took no notice of Ob. He stared as if expecting to see surprise at his announcement and for the group to turn away.

“We know where we are, man,” said Ob. “We're not daft you know. Now stand aside so we might pass.”

The guards did not make way.

The officer narrowed his eyes and scanned the group with suspicion. “What is your business in Southeast?” he said, still addressing Theta.

“Our business is our own, laddie,” said Ob. “If you move yourself aside, quick-like, I may not have to step on you.”

“No one passes this gate,” said the officer in a stern voice, only now taking notice of Ob, “unless they state their business and sign their names in the logbook, by order of the Crown.”

“And then may we pass all friendly-like, laddie?” said Ob.

“Aye,” said the officer.

“Then give me the logbook, bucko, and sign I will.”

The officer motioned to one of his men, who passed Ob the logbook and a quill.

“Here's the spot for our names, I see,” said Ob as he studied the book. “Too Tall is what they call me, and my friends are Scaredy Cat, Pointy Ears, and Mr.

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