They walked at steady pace through the twisty paths of the mountains of Shedling into which they had just entered. The path was made up of lots of bends, and dappled with pebbles and stones. Mornaan was now with them on their journey. Day after day passed, and soon they came a cross a wooden signpost, saying ‘Robinion four-hundred miles.

The good weather gave in one day and the heavens opened and poured down on them. But the path soon sloped down and was sheltered by moss- covered rocks, which formed a stone like cave.

Little drops sneaked in here and there but the place gave strong protection from the rain. It continued to lash outside. As night fell a storm broke out. The wind rattled wildly, out of control. They set up camp. It was a bit nippy but soon everyone was settled and at least warm enough to sleep. Mornaan decided to stay watch for the whole night, as the others were already lugging miles and miles of tiredness. He kept his weapons by his side, his trusty friends, but thankfully they were allowed to sleep just like his tired companions. Morning crept up on them and once again they re-fuelled and set off. Caracus could just see a glimpse of the Lotlan tower from a point, a mere blur to the great two-hundred foot tower it really was. The strong sun made the marble of Lotlan look like a huge beam of light, which was beautiful but blindingly bright. It even made the river running down the mountain look sparkling! There was no breeze what so ever, not even a zephyr, but amazingly fresh mountain air, made their lungs feel homely. Juimar loved the air the most, for dwarfs love hiking and he was used to the oxygen. It really made their journey feel less tiring as well as making them feel better; for now they were power walking. They walked much more than an average day and night, and even got a rest with no guarding as the mountains were well trustworthy.

The next morning, they began to walk through a patch of boggy land. The reeds hissed while swaying leftwards by the touching of a summer breeze, that was refreshing to all kinds of faces; the group that trudged along, the chattering crows, the slick foxes, the busy swallows and robins and even the lazy chirping cuckoo took the rare outing as an advantage in this time of high drought.

After trudging more miles, tired minds and feet approached a stream that was in a sort of gorge, dug naturally about one foot into the soft weedy ground.

Leeron bent down with his near empty bottle to the stone filled gargling water. A bubbling sound let him know his bottle was full. “Well” Nargeg spoke quietly, as he prepared to cook some meat and turnips, “a fine day’s work, or should I say a fine days walk!” “Or half a days work!” Caracus sneered jokingly. “Nargeg laughed out loud. Caracus broke into a rumbling laugh and a smile appeared on Juimar’s fresh- looking face. The sun hid behind a patchy cloud as they ate. Within a quarter of an hour, just as their food was falling down into their bellies they had to set off again. The bog land seemed to be unending, at least as far as the eye could see. After some time the bog slopped upwards, then downwards before returning to level and a mile on they came to a large, watery dike. The banks of it fell gently down an incline about ten foot and they were muddy and slippy. The base was large, spreading about twenty foot across. It had strong turfy bits , dotted about sticking up, yet surrounded by pools of water, knee-high. (At a rough estimate, the level would be higher of course if Juimar was the measuring stick!)

“Okay” Nargeg spoke thinking quickly “this will be tricky to pass. Just follow my guide and you’ll be just fine.” They proceeded slowly and carefully, copying Nargeg’s lead. They were all doing well until suddenly Rarlet lost her footing, and slipped, she hurtled down the slope hitting the water at force; a rusty spike sticking up from the water bank was in her side.

They all rushed down to help their little friend. They splashed around ruthlessly, but it was no use. She was lifeless. A tear gathered in the eye of Caracus, it dropped. Another tear followed by another and another. Caracus tried to hold in his pain but with a huge shuddering, he burst into tears. Mornaan was pale with shock. Juimar looked sadly to the ground. Leeron and Nargeg exchanged grim looks. Caracus hugged Rarlet’s body tightly. She had never done anything wrong. She didn’t deserve this. Caracus suddenly stepped back from a vivid, upcoming light. It shone around Rarlet. There was a loud and strange sound, boom. There in the space where Rarlet’s lifeless body had been, stood a young woman of about twenty years.

She had blonde straight hare with sky blue yes and wore a light jumper and lovely animal skinned pants. In her small, smooth hands she held a spear. She spoke in a soft voice: “Thank you all. You have just released me from the curse I’ve been under for four years”. The others were all astonished and speechless. After a few minutes of stunned silence, and in their excitement, they all began to talk at once. They discovered that her name was Uthea, Uthea Harrol. She had been turned into a fox by a goblin lord in Gadlar Moors, a faraway, foul land. She had a family who lived in a village called Aerand, which was going to be their next stop. Uthea was a fine spear fighter; her father had taught her since she was seven. “We’ll send a letter to your family” Nargeg counselled. He whistled a long high pitched whistle. Soon they heard the sound of hooves, and Pablo thundered towards them. He stopped short of Nargeg.

“Pablo, go to Aerand”, he ordered “Put this at the Harrols door. Then make your way to Robinion. We may meet you there, and we may need you. That’s my boy” Nargeg looked into Pablo’s’ soft, velvety eyes and as Pablo looked back into Nargeg’s eyes a thousand unsaid words were spoken between the two. Pablo then turned, snorted, threw his proud arched neck, high in the air, and took off at speed. He galloped over the hill, leaving big, round footprints (well hoof prints) and soon became nothing but a speck on the horizon- all be it a very fast moving speck!)

Uthea gelled quickly with the motley crew of travellers. Just as Rarlet had demonstrated, she had a good nature about her and adapted well to the hard conditions of the journey (they were still in the bogland). Within one week it seemed like they’d known her for years. Within a few days they left the marshy bogland behind.

A mud path lay ahead, which had steep valleys to one side, barley fields to the other. Everyone followed the road and it was easy to walk on. The surface was plain, hard mud with a few pebbles and loose twigs. Soon the road bent towards the gates of Aerand, and gladly they entered.

Uthea rushed to her parent’s home:” I’ll catch up with you all later” she gushed.
Her mother looked pleasant. She was small and slightly plump, with rosy cheeks and short blonde hair. Her father was over six feet tall and had plain black hair, with a roundy face, covered in freckles and bright green eyes. He wore a brown overcoat with a green under, brown pants and white boots. The mother wore sandals and a dress.
And so the group saluted them and walked off on the dusty path to find themselves an inn to rest.