Coroebus and Yenyu are bound, blindfolded and marched for about thirty minutes to gods’ know where and roughly thrown into a stockade. When they are confident their captors have left them truly alone, they begin to work at the ropes that bind their wrists. Fortunately Coroebus was somehow able to secret a blade when the soldiers stripped them. As they whisper in the dark trying to take stock of their situation, suddenly a familiar voice cuts through the gloam — Amon!
The three companions waste little time with sentiment and work feverishly to cut their bonds and with Yenyu’s expertise are able to work the tumblers of the crude lock to their prison. After several tense minutes the door is worked open and the trio crawls quietly up a small hill towards some dim light. They crest the hill and look down into a campsite where five sleeping figures are clustered around a dying campfire. In the dancing shadows they can just see the outline of another cage.