TCOB: CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Into the belly of the beast (1)

Clyde marched expressionlessly alongside his fellow yeomen via a forested path. A deathly aura hung over the group. Sir Justin's most recent 'publicity stunt' had placed a dampener on the already vestigial remains of the group's long-deceased morale. Recently, it appears matters with the expedition have started to run on a very one-dimensional basis. Think for example;

You run?

Your necklace strangles you.

Get in a fight without permission?

Your necklace strangles you.

You raise your voice in protest against a supervisor killing two men just because they were fighting?

Your necklace strangles you.

Take a dump in the bushes?

Eh, most of the time nothing happens… Unless you stray too far away from the group and a trigger-happy supervisor accidentally has your necklace strangle you to death while shit runs down your hairy thighs.

So, Yeah…

Pretty one-dimensional.

"We are here," Sir Dunice announced, gesturing for the expeditionary group to stay alert. The knight had a look of sobriety on his face as he alighted from his horse and unsheathed his longsword with Sir Justin taking a defensive position to his left.

Even the unnaturally gloomy Miss Nai sat up on her steed as her eyes grew wary. She gripped her staff tightly in her hand as a small vortex of air twisted around the object's bulbous end.

Seeing their superiors taking such a cautious stance placed the rest of the group in a state of high alert and unease. Men gripped their weapons with whitened knuckles while some subtly huddled together.

"Form up your ranks and move, Maggots!" Sir Dunice ordered coldly. Some men seemed hesitant to follow the knight's orders, but a quick squeeze from the ornaments around their necks helped to reorientate their priorities.

Soldiers hurriedly reformed their scattered ranks, standing shoulder-to-shoulder before resuming their march in a more orderly and cautious manner. Soon the group came upon a secluded ravine. Tall trees grew on the walls around the site while a tiny stream flowed along to one side.

In a shadowy corner, at the heart of this narrow gorge was an earthen fissure. The opening stretched about five metres long and two metres wide as it led downwards into the ground.

From where Clyde and the rest of the yeomen stood, the jagged opening vaguely resembled the maw of a great beast. A faint feeling of fear sprung in Clyde's heart as he heard the faint sound of malicious growls echoing deep from within. Some more fearful men subconsciously stumbled backwards.

The ominous feeling festering in Clyde's chest since he departed Neverna grew, yet a new emotion was born in his mind. An irrational desire. A faint longing…

Calling for him to descend…