He then began drawing the line across, which was affixed to another, thicker, larger rope. Once this was accomplished, he secured the rope to a tree.

The instant this was accomplished, Baldric found himself shaking his head in wonder as a pair of elven soldiers began walking across this rope at a quick, surefooted pace, bearing two more lines. Almost sooner than could be believed, three heavy lines were stretched across the span of the White River, creating a rope bridge for the workers to cross!

The dwarf bridge-builders were as good as their word. Within three days the work was done, and the horses, blinkered so they would not panic, were led across the bridge to the far side. As he felt the trembling of the decking through his feet during the crossing, Baldric realised the truth in the dwarf's words, that the materials were just strong enough to do the job, temporarily, but would soon be torn apart by forces they weren't build to withstand for any great length of time. The moment they were across, the bridge was cut loose, and they watched in awe as the disintegrating structure was carried away on the back of the raging torrent.

The climb out of the river valley was not easy. The hills were steep, and heavily forested as before. The horses had to be led on foot because the ground was rocky and irregular, as though the soil and dense foliage that grew upon it were a recent occurrence. Thick, damp moss and lichen made footing for the horses hazardous, as it would often slip loose, leaving the slippery, wet, stone that lay beneath exposed. Deeps brakes of fern often concealed impassable knolls and knees of rock; the trees' roots themselves seemed able to gain a purchase in the most unlikely places; sheer rock faces, crevasses and flat, bare shelves of rock. Some even somehow managed to straddle great boulders with their roots.




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