Chapter 24: The Shadows of the Pits The hellish glow of firelight flickered over the twisted landscape. Great black pits stretched as far as the eye could see, belching thick smoke that clung to the air like the breath of something dying. Towering scaffolds loomed above, their wooden frames heavy with the weight of chains and rusting iron cages.
The smell was worse than death.
It was despair.
Kalo, Lukan, and their ragged band darted through the darkness, moving between the deep ruts of overturned peat carts and the sodden trenches where the enslaved toiled. The cries of the workers—bent and broken under their burdens—carried through the night.
Kalo’s grip tightened on his sword.
For every prisoner they freed, ten more remained. But freedom—true freedom—had to start somewhere.
Brownies and Redcaps roamed the pits like wolves, their whips lashing out at the slow, the weak, the dying.
Among them was Grimp.
A wiry, rat-faced Brownie with eyes like rotten chestnuts. His voice cut through the night like a rusted blade.
“FASTER, you slop-sucking slugs! I’ve seen drunken pixies move quicker than you! Your mothers should’ve drowned you at birth—spare us all the misery of your pathetic existence!”
And then—a crack.
A sharp whip lash followed by a pained grunt.
Grimp cackled, his bony frame perched atop a rickety ladder, whip snapping down at a hunched, shackled figure below.
Kalo froze.
The badger.
The weight of the name crushed the breath from his lungs. He blinked, unable to believe it. But the voice was clear.
“Move, Mr. Thornwick! Or I’ll skin you and wear your miserable hide as a coat!”
Kalo’s pulse roared in his ears.
His friend. His old friend.
But something else stopped him.
Something worse.
Lying among the peat, gathering mould, was another body.
Still. Silent.
A lump of bread, half-rotted, its crust flaking away like dead skin.
A Breadfriend.
Once soft, once warm, once alive.
Now?
A forgotten scrap, wasted to the pits.
A life that had once been kneaded with care, now nothing but a discarded lump, sinking into the rot.
Kalo’s hands trembled.
Grimp’s whip cracked again.
It was personal now.
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Chapter 25: The Rescue of Mr. Thornwick
They moved like shadows, crawling through the filth toward the base of the pit. The closer they got, the clearer the scene became.
Grimp stood on the ladder, sneering down at the badger.
The years had not been kind to Mr. Thornwick. Once broad and strong, now he sagged under the weight of his chains, his fur matted with sweat and grime. His back bore the fresh welts of the whip, but he did not flinch. He only stared forward, his eyes dull, his spirit long broken.
But Kalo saw the truth.
Mr. Thornwick was still there.
Beneath the wounds. Beneath the chains. Beneath the years of suffering.
Crack.
The whip struck again.
And beside him, in the mud, the Breadfriend lay untouched, unmoving, gathering mould.
Something in Kalo snapped.
“NOW!”
They charged.
Grimp barely had time to shriek before Kalo tackled him from the ladder, slamming him into the mud.
Lukan moved fast, cutting the chains with a single sweep of his dagger. The moment the iron hit the ground, Mr. Thornwick gasped. His body shuddered, his paws weakly reaching out, as if the idea of freedom was something he could not yet grasp.
Then, he fell into Kalo’s arms, sobbing.
“I—” His voice cracked. “I thought you were—”
“You’re free, old friend,” Kalo whispered.
For the first time in years, the badger smiled.
But then—a piercing scream.
Grimp was gone.
A bell rang.
A terrible, shrieking alarm that set the pits ablaze with movement.
From every dark corner, Brownies and Redcaps poured forth, their eyes gleaming with bloodlust.
The ground shook with the stampede.
And Kalo knew—
They were trapped.
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