The madman's breath grew wildly throughout the cavern. We hurried towards the exit. No one spoke. While we ran I cast furtive glances at the others' wounds. Patches of their skin had turned from a healthy pink to sickly purple. The mood was urgent.
The cavern was filled with our overlapping footsteps. Beneath the footsteps were their breaths. I tuned my ears to the sound. The jog shouldn't have been a strain for them. Their endurance was greater than any human's could ever be. Yet their breathing was fast and laboured. The blood vessels around there eyes were inflamed and bulging. Their irises were tinged with purple. Neither the books nor the TV adaptation had made any mention of the fungi that was currently taking root in their bodies.
We came to a cliff face. Bevald's eyes roved up and down, judging whether the rock would bear our weight. There was little choice in the matter. We had to climb.
"I'll go first." I declared.
The stone was slick with moisture. Trickles of water ran down from above. Moss grew plentifully. A heady damp smell was thick in the air. I found purchase beneath my foot on the irregular stone and pushed myself upwards. Without hesitation I followed my body's instincts and quickly grabbed a slightly jutting out edge just above me. I pulled myself closer to the wall.
Moss fell to the ground beneath me. I tore it from the stone in huge handfuls. The others waited with focused expressions at the base of the cliff. Their interlinked arms would catch me if I fell. Then, in an instant, I did. The stone beneath my left hand cracked and fell away. I clutched it tightly in my hand. For a moment I stayed there, weightless and free. Gravity tore me down a few seconds later.
"Shit. Sorry."
Bevald offered a smile and a joke. The tense mood lightened a little, "Not your fault. Unless you didn't tell us that you really like handfuls of rock."
Everyone was eager for some relief. Bevald's middling joke was received warmly. Vivald and Linon began to chat once more as I began my second climb. I was glad to see the shift in the group dynamic. The fungal infection weighed on us all heavily. Keeping mute about it only allowed our worries to fester. Vivald and Linon's spirits lifted considerably as they chatted.
The sound of running water gradually grew louder. I suppressed my curiosity and focused my attention on my hands and feet. Meter by meter I ascended the cliff. Then, just as I neared the cliff's end, the rock beneath my feet crumbled. So close. The pull of gravity sought to drag me down. I was unwilling to submit. In an instant I made my decision. The ard sign formed at my fingertips. Desperation made my magic potent. The invisible force roared out from my palm with frightful strength. Gravity's hold on me waned. Magic halted my descent and carried me higher into the air. My heart pounded. With a grunt I frantically clawed into the cliff's peak. To my delight my fingers found purchase in the thick moss that had previously stood in my way. I heaved myself upwards.
There was no grace in my success. The final moments had been messy and panicked. It didn't matter. I had achieved my goal. From more than a hundred meters above I peered down at the three below. They looked up at me with excited smiles.
"Plenty of moss to go around up here." I called down.
Linon went first. He moved with slow and measured precision. The route had already been mapped out by my previous attempts. There was little suspense. After ten or so minutes he pulled himself over the peak and joined me.
The two of us kept quiet while Vivald climbed. Neither of us wanted to be held accountable if he lost concentration and slipped. With a grunt he pushed of the final foothold and dragged himself onto solid ground. Linon didn't miss the opportunity to crack a few jokes about his spider-like posture while climbing. Vivald retorted fiercely. Bevald stepped forwards to climb and our laughter stopped.
The son of fortune suceeded easily. His climb was the fastest among the three. The role of destiny on the continent was immense. I was more than willing to bet that his name would rise to prominence in the centuries to come.
After catching his breath for a few minutes, Bevald looked into the distance. Winding valleys and gorges stretched on for miles. A trail snaked its way through the landscape, it was impossible to miss. Bevald eyed it up with a mixture of eagerness and concern, "Let's keep moving."
Grasses grew as high as our chests on either side of the trail. It was apparent that it had not been maintained in a long time. Nonetheless, it was a welcome improvement from the thorns and brambles of the forest that we had trekked across previously. Without vegetation or wild beasts to hinder us, our speed was swift. The miles fell away quickly.
The journey was pleasant. The infection of madman's breath still remained, but our spirits were high. After a few hours Bevald called out to halt, "I can smell them."
We all knew what he was referring to. The rock trolls were the final obstacle in our way. The scent of their sweat and faeces stretched for miles. The stench was reminiscent of rotten eggs.
Bevald laid out his plan, "Reason first. Violence second. I'll lead."
The sounds of the rock trolls' rumbling voices echoed through the valleys. Every so often they crashed into one another and roared with laughter. Their bodies weighed several tonnes and their playing shook the earth.
"Ah! A tiny one!"
We had been spotted. From atop the crest of the valley an enormous figure looked down at us and stretched out a massive gnarled finger. His cry was swiftly followed by thunderous footsteps. Several more rock trolls appeared beside him.
Diplomacy was a trademark of our profession. Bevald raised his hands in a gesture of non-aggression and stepped forwards, "Honoured ones! We mean you no harm! We only seek to pass through this valley."
The largest among the rock trolls bellowed with laughter and pounded the earth with its huge feet, "Ah tiny one I knows your game! I has seen many of you before. You's come when the flowers bloom."
"Tribald, is that your name honoured one? We have spent years reading about your handsomeness!" Bevald flattered.
The other rock trolls murmured to one another and cast reverential glances at Tribald. Their booming voices were perhaps quiet by their standards, but still ear-piercingly loud by human ones. Tribald, the largest among them, visibly swelled with pride seeing his kin so impressed by his fame.
"Yes tiny one! I is Tribald the strong. I is going to let you pass." Tribald declared happily.
Bevald's smile widened. He was just about to express his thanks and praise the wise troll when Tribald interrupted, "But you must pay tiny one."
The smile on Bevald's face cracked. He repaired it quickly enough that the rock troll's didn't notice, "What price do you seek mighty Tribald?"
The other rock trolls jostled against Tribald, muttering incessantly. Their loud voices kept no secrets. Tribald listened to the requests of his kin until they were satisfied. For some time we wondered whether our presence had been forgotten. Vivald gestured with his hands, suggesting we slip past them while they were distracted. In response Bevald shook his head and whispered back, "Look closer."
His words alerted us to the troll's cunning. Behind their huge forms hid massive boulders. Tribald was not as simple as he seemed. Any attempt we made to run would inevitably be met with a boulder hurled through the air towards us like a comet. Perhaps we could block a few with ard or quen, but boulders were as abundant as air in the rocky valleys. They could rain down destruction on us for hours before they ran out of ammunition. By which time we would've long been reduced to bloodstains on the ground.
"Tiny ones! You must bring us food! We want the things that dwell in the earth and the trees! The specks that move through the skies before we can catch them! You must bring enough for us to feast." Tribald's request was extremely troublesome. A rock troll's appetite was enormous. Even the smallest among them could devour a cow in a matter of bites. Hunting enough birds and rabbits for them to feast could take years. It was impossible to spend that long on the trial. The pressing nature of the fungal infection added to our sense of urgency.
The situation was grim. There was only one route through the valleys. The cliffs and mountains to either side were practically sheer. Scaling them would require a beak and feathers.
"Mighty Tribald! This small one has heard your name too many times to count. I wish to experience your strength. Let us compete, if I suceed you shall grant us safe passage. If I lose you may roast me over a fire and eat me while my heart still beats." I called out loudly.
Bevald's head whipped towards me. This wasn't the plan. My offer was suicidal. There was no way a human, even a witcher, could compete with a rock troll's enormous strength.
Tribald looked at me for a long time. His breaths were as loud as bellows, "You tiny ones are as cunning as the little specks that live in the trees. Once I's looks away you flee like rats. I will play your game tiny one. Your flesh will be delish when roasted, you shall see how your blood squirts out when I sink my teeth into you. Speak, tell me how we may compete."
Rock trolls had a love of games and riddles. There were some among their kind who held no malice towards humans. They would grant passage through their dens in exchange for a riddle or rhyme that they had not heard before.
"Mighty one, let us compete with stone and strength! We shall both hold a boulder over our heads, whoever can last the longest shall be declared victor! Of course, I cannot compare to your strong arms and mighty legs, my boulder must be less than half my height." The game was simple. The advantage clearly leaned towards the rock troll's. They spent hours every day playing with boulders.
Bevald's smile began to widen once more. I could almost see the fireworks going off inside his brain.
The earth shook with Tribald's roar. He lifted a huge boulder and smashed it against the earth. Unable to withstand his tyrannical strength the boulder shattered into dozens of pieces. He eyed them up and hurled the largest one towards me. I hurriedly dodged to avoid being crushed, "You choose well tiny one. Pick it up! Let us play!"
"Thank you mighty one!" I called out gratefully. The sharp edges of the rock dug cut into my hands. The pain was easily ignored.
With a resounding roar Tribald raised a huge boulder above his head. The other rock trolls discussed in awe how powerful he was. The praise clearly delighted him.
Time ticked by. Tribald bragged and boasted gleefully, telling me how he would cover me in sheep's blood to bring out the flavour of human flesh. I pretended to struggle with the weight as the game went on. The stone was heavy, incredibly so, it required all my strength to hold it aloft. Unfortunately, at least for Tribald, my strength was constantly replenished.
"Deceitful tiny one! What magic do you use?" Tribald roared angrily. His huge arms trembled from hours of holding the boulder aloft. Perhaps if he had chosen a smaller one he might've been able to endure for a while longer. His tribesmen looked at each other uncertainly. Their reverential belief in him was faltering upon seeing such a tiny creature compete evenly with him.
"Mighty one, I use no magic! Your strength inspires me with every moment! Without your mighty prescence I would never be able to hold this heavy stone!" The flattery eased Tribald's rage. The booming whispers of the other rock trolls began to discuss his huge size and broad waist once more. I thanked the stars that they fell for it. If Tribald burst into murderous rage and chose to overturn the game's rules and hurl his boulder at my face, I didn't exactly like my chances of catching it.
He roared and threw his boulder to the ground. The impact shook the earth and for a moment my feet left the ground. His strength was horrifying to behold. There were foes that even a witcher could not best. I intended to pay such creatures a wide berth until I gained greater strength.
"You may pass tiny ones! You shall tell your kind of Tribald the strong's mighty aura that can fill even your pathetic thin limbs with strength!" He roared.
The gamble had paid off. I bowed low, "Thank you oh mighty one! Your name shall be known for hundreds of years!"
The final hurdle had been vaulted. The trial was almost at it's end. Our medallions awaited us.