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City Escape

9/10/2017

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There was no sight or sound of enemies as he emerged from the stairway. He took two steps forward and posed on a flat rock. He sheathed his sword as he looked around. He was in a part of Old City not visible from the hilltop near New City.
The rugged faces of the mountain cliffs were behind him, sporting crude structures at the mouths of caves. Tiny fires smoldered in some of them. A flat-domed structure stood in front of him, decorated with a string of small baubles and sporting an irregular chimney structure.
A good distance away to his left were more chimneys. But these irregular structures had white smoke issuing from them. Between those and the mountains were more spires like the one he'd climbed and decorated.
To his right, as he stood upon the flat rock, was a clear pathway leading out of the city.
Gypsum gave a snarl of satisfaction, his torch held at shoulder height in his right hand; then he turned sharply and silently made his way toward the exit that offered a clear escape from the old and unlovely ancient city.
 
He had many miles to travel to reach New City. He would have to skirt the perimeter of Old City and do it cautiously to avoid any residents of the city.
Plus, he was hungry and getting hungrier every minute. There was no rule that he needed to return by the end of the day, and night would be soon upon him.
After working his way through the piles of rubble that cluttered the exit avenue, he headed straight away from the city and then veered away from his destination and toward the foot of the low mountains. He hoped to find a cave or at least some kind of concealed place to sleep.
He kept his senses alert for anything that might serve as food.
He was disappointed.
But he did find a small cave.
It was little more than a shallow hole in the rocky face of the cliff. But it allowed him to sleep out of sight of any casual passerby and it offered shelter from the wind that seemed to always pick up in the evenings.
There were a few trees in the vicinity. Gypsum tore off a thin branch with plenty of leaves and then walked back to where he exited the city.
He used the leafy branch as a broom and swept away his footprints. It was a tedious chore, backing up the entire distance to the cave while sweeping the ground behind him. But he felt it worthwhile. If any patrols should come looking for him, or just on random patrol, they would have no clue that he had passed this way. He would be able to sleep without being on high alert.
He shed his armor for the sake of comfort and quiet, growled his displeasure at the hunger pains he felt, and went to sleep. His last thought was a hope that Topaz would not worry too much.
But Topaz did worry. She had kept faithful vigil atop the hill with Feldspar and Beryl. When hours passed with no sign of Gypsum, all but Feldspar and Topaz sadly left the hill and returned to their homes. After darkness was the dominant theme, Feldspar insisted that Topaz return to her home and they would begin again their watching in the morning. She reluctantly went, taking hope in Feldspar's assurances that his brother would return on the next day, and relatively unscathed.   

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This Way to the Exit?

8/20/2017

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​Pulling the door open with his left hand while it still clutched the torch would have resulted in burns if not for the armor over his hands and forearms.
The opened door revealed a passageway, darker than any moonless night Gypsum had ever experienced. It also smelled of stale air long undisturbed. His muzzle wrinkled in  an expression of distaste.
Before entering he took one of the unlit torches from a wall sconce and tucked it into his now empty scabbard. With sword and lit torch in hand he proceeded through the passage as swiftly as caution allowed. The ceiling of the passage was high enough to accommodate him without the need to make himself shorter by bending or crouching. It was also wide enough that he and his brother could have walked abreast without either brushing the walls.
The passage descended gradually and after ten minutes Gypsum realized that he was passing under other buildings in the city. His sense of direction also told him that he was heading away from New City and toward the cliffs and mines. He would have preferred some other direction, but his preferences were of no matter. 
Besides, he was exploring an area that had not seen visitors in years—perhaps centuries. The dust on the stone floor of the passage had not been disturbed for a very long time. A glance behind him confirmed that his own travel left clear footprints and even a haze as the dust resettled. With the evidence of this tunnel being long deserted, plus the complete lack of sound or smell to indicate danger, he took the spare torch from the scabbard and resettled his sword there. The torch was much lighter.
It was over half an hour before the passageway offered any break from its monotony. At the same time the torch he carried began to sputter and die. He used it to light the extra he'd brought and he left the expired one on the floor against a wall.
His stomach reminded him again that he had not eaten in too long. He growled a wordless expression of discontent and continued forward to where a faint light source awaited.
He found that the tunnel ended in a closed door. Plus, there were also doors in the wall on each side. He had three exits to choose from.
With a shrug he chose the one on the left and attempted to push it open. He was not successful. He tried to pull, but it was obvious that the door opened only forward.  He pushed hard against it with his shoulder and it gave an inch or two. He could tell from the sounds of scraping on the other side and the smell that the door was blocked by rubble. Apparently the old building there had collapsed.
He had a moment to worry that the other two doors would be similarly blocked; he shrugged and tried the door on the right. It opened with only a little difficulty into another empty room as dark as the tunnel.
Before exploring further he closed that door and tried the one that opened in the direction he had been traveling. This one offered some promise since a very faint light shone around the imperfect seams of the door.
That one revealed a stairway, and at the top of the stairs was a source of light. He drew his sword, clutched the torch in his left hand, and climbed slowly and silently up the stairs.
What he encountered at the top surprised him a little and pleased him even more.
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Ups and Downs

8/2/2017

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As Gypsum began his careful descent of the spire he discovered a pleasant surprise: a trapdoor entrance on the roof! He had not noticed it earlier because his vision was focused upward. But looking down, he could see the square door squeezed into the small space beside the base of the spire.
There was very little room around the base of the spire, and none of it was horizontal. The trapdoor had been constructed into the slanted roof. Gypsum needed to anchor himself from sliding down the roof and off while working to open the door.
Before he risked a descent through the trapdoor, Gypsum surveyed the ground at the base of the building. It did not look good. He could see at least six citizens of Old City silently staring up at him.
There was not a friendly face in sight. Gypsum comforted himself a little by reflecting that Riotori faces did not tend to look friendly even among friends.
He shrugged and eased himself down through the door feet first.
Feldspar and the other watchers on the hill were almost shocked to see him simply vanish from the rooftop. Topaz gave a brief cry of despair as Gypsum literally dropped from sight.
That was the last they would see of him that day or night.
He found what he had hoped for, and expected. A metal ladder descended from the trapdoor. He did not for a second trust the rungs. He clutched the vertical stringers firmly with both hands at all times.
He was delightfully surprised when the rungs proved reliable all the way to the bottom. He was glad he'd kept the door open. There was no other source of light, and that source was fading with the coming of evening.
Fortune smiled on him again, and more than once. At hand at the bottom of the metal ladder was a torch in a sconce. Next to the sconce was a tinder box and flints.
Two minutes after his feet settled on the floor of the building, he had a lighted torch in his hand.
The room was sparsely furnished with chairs and a table and additional torches along the wall. And to his right as he looked into the room there was a doorway. It was not the door to the outside he'd seen when he circled the building.
He strode across the room and gripped the latch handle with his left hand. His right hand drew his sword, and he opened the door...  
 

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The Pinnacle

7/16/2017

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For once in this mission, fortune was on his side.  He reached the building that held the spires without further challenge. He circled the edifice looking for an entrance. Fortune was not on his side that much. The only possible door was sealed from the inside. He would have to scale the walls.
This was not as difficult as it might have been. The outsides of the walls were covered with irregularities—holes, protrusions, small rough ledges—as if the designers had intended the climb as a test of mettle.
The climb offered only a little more difficulty than did the spires of the Ironcut Mountains, and that added difficulty was because he would be climbing alone.
He did not hesitate. Once he realized what would be needed he scanned the walls upward, circling until he found what looked like the surest way up and began to climb. His armor made it difficult but he was used to wearing it by now and he was able to compensate. He considered briefly removing it but did not. He would probably need it before the climb was over, and certainly after his descent.
If he was spotted while on the spire he would make an easy target for any bowmen. But, he realized, he had not seen any residents of the Old City carrying bow or arrows. Perhaps that was an art lost during the time when the city was uninhabitable. Or maybe they never had that skill here at all.
But even if that was the case, it was likely he would face a battle when he grounded. He pushed the thought away. His primary concern now was to reach the top and secure the flag to the spire. After that he would concern himself with those that might await him.
As he neared the top, the climb became more treacherous. Several times he was forced to skittered to the side to find a hand or foothold to use to further his ascent. He kept at it, patient and careful yet aggressive.
On the hilltop, the watchers were delighted to see the figure of Gypsum laboring his way up and around the tallest spire on the skyline. They almost held their collective breath as put his hand around the uppermost circumference of the spire. Feldspar was especially tense. He knew his brother might face a dangerous task in holding onto his perch while using two hands to attach his banner.
Although the distance was too great to be sure, the movements of Gypsum's arms and body told Feldspar that his brother had freed a rope from his waist and used it to secure himself to the spire. Then they could all see him reach behind him and loose the scarlet flag from its clasps on his shoulders.
The watchers could not see due to the distance, but Feldspar knew that Gypsum secured the banner with heavy cord to the spire. There was almost no wind. Gypsum stretched the flag out as far as his reach permitted to show those he knew were watching that he had fulfilled his goal. Now, all he had to do was descend to the ground and make his way out of the city against the opposition he fully expected. Too early yet to celebrate.  

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Three-On-One: No Problem

6/28/2017

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The spillage of blood was indeed necessary. Only ten minutes after he decided to quicken his pace he rounded a corner and came face-to-face with a three-person patrol. They were more surprised than he was.
Gypsum growled, "Get out of my way, forget you saw me, and you will not be hurt. I mean no harm to you or your city."
The three, two males and a female, hesitated for seconds only before moving to surround him.  They did not hold their weapons as experienced soldiers might hold them.  And they were young. Gypsum doubted the female had lived sixteen years yet.
Their tusks were not the gleaming white of his own;, their tusks and horns showed an unhealthy gray tint he found repulsive.
"Drop your weapon and surrender and you will not be hurt...at least not now."  
To Gypsum's surprise, the woman spoke the order. She must be the one in charge.  He faced her; the two men took positions on his right and left.
When Gypsum made no move to comply, she added the threat, "If you do not surrender, we will show you no mercy."
"Excellent. I am not looking for any." Without further hesitation he attacked. He faked a raised sword at the male on his right. That one took a step back and Gypsum whirled to engage the one on his left. A clumsy parry by his opponent was slapped aside and the unprotected sword hand was chopped off at the wrist with a single downward stroke.
He turned just in time to parry—skillfully—a lunge by the other male. Gypsum closed quickly and grasped the other's sword wrist with his left hand. He struck with the pommel of his sword against the side of the head, just behind the base of the top horn. That one staggered sideways and fell.
The female attacked with a downward two-handed stroke attempting to cleave Gypsum's skull. He dodged to the right; the stroke missed him completely. Before she could raise her weapon for a second stroke he stepped forward and struck her on the top of the head with the flat of his sword. She collapsed without a sound.  He whirled again and administered the same treatment to the enemy now missing a right hand.
He took a hurried glance; all three of his opponents lay unconscious on the street. He sheathed his sword and continued his hurried path toward the spires.
By this time he realized the error of perspective.  From the hilltop or bottom the spires seemed to be in the middle of The Old City. But he discovered that they were in fact closer to the far perimeter than to the center.  He would have had a much easier time by skirting the city all the way to the opposite side of where he entered and then approaching the spires. He had not yet decided if he would pass that information on to Feldspar even if he got the chance.
He rounded another corner and stopped for only a few seconds. The base of the building that supported the spires was now in sight, and not far! He broke into a casual run, all his senses on the alert for hazards.


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    The story: This serial is about the "mascot" shown at the top of these pages. There are actually two of them, identical twins, Feldspar and Gypsum.
    The people call themselves Riotori, and their planet is Kylrock. The twins have been journeying for hundreds of miles, across many hazards, in search of mates. Please visit the archives to read their whole story.



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