Gathering of the Titans: The Tol Chronicles Book 2 by Robert G. Ferrell
Authors: Robert G. Ferrell
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marble floors. From a rack near the door Tartag removed a long pole with a torch on the end and set it aflame; as they passed each wall sconce he lit the torch inside. Every torch he added showed more and more of the utterly magnificent interior. After a while it became apparent that they were in a complete underground city, and not a small one. Massive support pillars had been left in the native rock every ten meters or so, with the distant ceiling arched between them.
“This is a magnificent city, Tartag,” Tol said after a while, “You must be very proud of your ancestors for creating such a marvel.”
“Actually, this is probably just one of the outlying communities. If the legends our people tell of Hellehoell are accurate, there are nine cities in total, in a wheel formation with the largest at the center. It took several thousand workers over a centum to carve it all out. ‘Hellehoell’ translates to Goblish roughly as ‘the world beneath the rock.’ Eventually the plan was that all titans on N’plork who wished could live here.”
“That plan was cut short by whatever closed off the entrance, eh?”
“Apparently. The records from that time are confusing and contradictory.They speak of a great enemy who tore off the mountain top and poured it into the Valley of Welcome—Daludobris—which was formerly located on the west side of the complex, supposedly so that invaders who attacked at dawn could not use the rising sun to hide themselves. I’ve searched that area and while I did find evidence of a massive slide that filled in a ravine, I can’t conclusively prove that ravine was Daludobris.”
“Thank you for that information, Tartag,” said Episk, “The RSCA will be glad to assist in excavating Daludobris once it has been positively located.”
“I will pass that kind offer along to the Council of Elders who will be deciding policy for Hellehoell once it is reestablished,” Tartag answered cautiously. Tol noted the subtle shift in his rhetoric.
They wandered down countless avenues, boulevards, and narrower streets, marveling at the wonderful architecture and expert stonework. Tartag was spiraling them in toward the center of the complex, because that was where Titans historically built their mausoleums, to make it easier for all residents to honor their ancestors. While Tartag did the navigating from the mental map he’d made of what little was known of the complex layout, Tol was viewing the city from a cop’s perspective. He looked down blind alleys, along rows of closely-packed townhomes with connecting balconies, and at isolated mercantile shops on broad avenues with dense residential areas close by and realized that either titans were impeccably honest or they had a substantial crime rate in this city. It was almost designed with larceny in mind: and don’t get him started on all the classic ambush points.
As if on cue a titan voice suddenly rang out: “Stay where you are. Put your hands in the air and keep them there. You are trespassing in the suspended law city of Hellehoell and are under order of confinement.”
Tol looked around and saw bows drawn all around them on rooftops and in windows: a dozen or more. He wished he’d brought along that amulet of proof against missiles that Oloi had given him as a token of friendship, but no such luck. Wait... no such luck...
They had asked Tartag to step forward and explain, giving Tol the chance to whisper into his pocket without attracting too much attention. “Eyejay, are you powered up? This is a bit of an emergency. Can you scan the area around us for other infrared signatures? There are only four in our immediate party.”
There was no response at first, then through bone induction he heard, “I count fifteen other forms, all titans, in a semicircle ranging from eight point four to thirteen point six meters in your forward direction. And I told you not to call me ‘Eyejay.’”
“I have to call you something shorter than
“This is a magnificent city, Tartag,” Tol said after a while, “You must be very proud of your ancestors for creating such a marvel.”
“Actually, this is probably just one of the outlying communities. If the legends our people tell of Hellehoell are accurate, there are nine cities in total, in a wheel formation with the largest at the center. It took several thousand workers over a centum to carve it all out. ‘Hellehoell’ translates to Goblish roughly as ‘the world beneath the rock.’ Eventually the plan was that all titans on N’plork who wished could live here.”
“That plan was cut short by whatever closed off the entrance, eh?”
“Apparently. The records from that time are confusing and contradictory.They speak of a great enemy who tore off the mountain top and poured it into the Valley of Welcome—Daludobris—which was formerly located on the west side of the complex, supposedly so that invaders who attacked at dawn could not use the rising sun to hide themselves. I’ve searched that area and while I did find evidence of a massive slide that filled in a ravine, I can’t conclusively prove that ravine was Daludobris.”
“Thank you for that information, Tartag,” said Episk, “The RSCA will be glad to assist in excavating Daludobris once it has been positively located.”
“I will pass that kind offer along to the Council of Elders who will be deciding policy for Hellehoell once it is reestablished,” Tartag answered cautiously. Tol noted the subtle shift in his rhetoric.
They wandered down countless avenues, boulevards, and narrower streets, marveling at the wonderful architecture and expert stonework. Tartag was spiraling them in toward the center of the complex, because that was where Titans historically built their mausoleums, to make it easier for all residents to honor their ancestors. While Tartag did the navigating from the mental map he’d made of what little was known of the complex layout, Tol was viewing the city from a cop’s perspective. He looked down blind alleys, along rows of closely-packed townhomes with connecting balconies, and at isolated mercantile shops on broad avenues with dense residential areas close by and realized that either titans were impeccably honest or they had a substantial crime rate in this city. It was almost designed with larceny in mind: and don’t get him started on all the classic ambush points.
As if on cue a titan voice suddenly rang out: “Stay where you are. Put your hands in the air and keep them there. You are trespassing in the suspended law city of Hellehoell and are under order of confinement.”
Tol looked around and saw bows drawn all around them on rooftops and in windows: a dozen or more. He wished he’d brought along that amulet of proof against missiles that Oloi had given him as a token of friendship, but no such luck. Wait... no such luck...
They had asked Tartag to step forward and explain, giving Tol the chance to whisper into his pocket without attracting too much attention. “Eyejay, are you powered up? This is a bit of an emergency. Can you scan the area around us for other infrared signatures? There are only four in our immediate party.”
There was no response at first, then through bone induction he heard, “I count fifteen other forms, all titans, in a semicircle ranging from eight point four to thirteen point six meters in your forward direction. And I told you not to call me ‘Eyejay.’”
“I have to call you something shorter than
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