Free The Northern Approach by Jim Galford

“We are here, not there,” he noted. “Map is wrong, yes? You wish to go north, but here and here are lands controlled by the dead. Here, we lost old camp and many good people. The clouds that consume things roam near there now. We will not go there.”
    Leaning forward, Raeln studied the locations the man was pointing out and added, “He’s right. I’ve been to their old camp. That area is heavily patrolled, and where it isn’t, a large black cloud like the one near Lantonne was drifting around.”
    “All right,” On’esquin said, sounding frustrated. He put one finger on the city he had called Urlenna. “Even if the city has fallen, it had good walls. The ruins will be a usable location—”
    Yoska made a loud click with his tongue and reached out with his knife, slicing away a section of the map containing the city before On’esquin could stop him.
    “City was ripped down and stones used for homes and shrines of tribal peoples,” he explained, swatting On’esquin’s hand when the man reached for his weapon. “My people sold some of the wall stones to Altis nobles as holy relics. City-folk do not know where old things come from, but my people do.”
    “Then show me where we can go and what of these cities still stand,” the orc asked, gesturing broadly at the map.
    Raeln grabbed a muddy stone near his feet and used it to cross off Hyeth and the surrounding area. “My home,” he explained, sitting back. “The Turessians turned our leader…my father…into one of them. He controls that area from what I was told. Everyone there is dead.”
    “Is much worse than one city,” Yoska told them, tapping one city after another on the map with his knife. “None of these exist anymore. Map is too old.” Tapping a few more locations, Yoska added, “These spots are cities that were once good for stopping when no one was upset about trades gone bad. All are now held by dead men or those who are likely controlled by them. These over here I think are controlled, but I do not see with my own eyes.”
    On’esquin stuck his finger in the mud and drew a thick line across the map. “What you are telling me is that the Turessians have cut off the entire northern approach without going around to the east,” he said. “We cannot go through the mountains or it will take us a year or two to get anywhere. Dorralt knows the prophecies and is trying to ensure I cannot go home. He is likely trying to find his old generals and free them before I can get to him. This will become a race between him and us if we cannot find a direct route.”
    “Will he be able to find them?” asked Raeln.
    “Not for quite some time, I believe. The generals are in no condition to travel, and what is left of them has been hidden away where he will never find them. The last one to find them was the man who warned me to the Turessian war’s beginning. I have since hidden the remains again.”
    Yoska reached past On’esquin and traced a line through the mountains. “We go here, yes?” he asked the two other men, smiling. “Is easiest way and dead men would not dedicate large army there.”
    “In the mountains?” asked Raeln, shaking his head. “That’s months of travel before we’re even past Altis. They wouldn’t bother setting up patrols that far out. The mountains themselves will kill us.”
    “No, no, no,” the man told him quickly, tapping the line again. “Not in mountains. We go through old dwarf and elf halls. We go under mountains, yes? Many doors and walls that the dead will use to stop us, so few dead will be needed to keep watch. A smart man can go through in a few weeks, once he reaches the entrance, yes? I am smart man, and handful of undead not keep me out. Even if we cannot take halls all the way to far north, we can use them to get past Altis.”
    Raeln opened his mouth to object, having never even heard the dwarves maintained tunnels that long, but Yoska pointed his knife at him.
    “I say smart man, do not