The small group made their way through the dense woods, the three cloaked men in the front seeming to know a path that the captive Kurtz could not see. As they moved forward, the rope bound young man could spot tall, pole like stones rubbed smooth from age and covered by great green moss, jutting from the forest floor ever mile or so. The canopy of trees began to grow, causing the sunlight to slowly vanish under the shadow of the ancient growth.

After what seemed hours, the party found a large mount of earth and stone, seeming jet black in the shadows, rising to meet them. To the stable master’s apprentice, the mound seemed unnatural, as the earth around it did not rise as a natural hill would. The ground within 100 feet of the mound seemed unnaturally smooth, as if the vegetation and undergrowth seemed unwilling to encroach upon the mound, and Kurtz slowly gained an uneasy feeling as their feet began to step on the bare dirt.

The large man pulled an aged parchment, crumbling and cracking on the edges. Holding the parchment in one hand, and a lantern in the other to allow light to fall upon the dark stone of the mound. The group circled the mound, which must have been larger than the castle of the count, until something unseen by Kurtz drew the attention of the leader of the group. “Place your hand inside the crack. What do you feel?” the man said to Kurtz, cutting the ropes that bound him, allowing the boy to do as ordered.

Another sharp spike of pain brought Kurtz out of the shock of being spoken to for the first time in hours, as the thin man pricked him once more with the knife. Frightened, he walked up to the mound and looked for the crack the man had spoken of, having to use his hands to find it. Upon reaching his hands into the small crevice, he felt what seemed a smooth metal pull ring. Panic filling his voice, Kurtz mumbled “Rii..a ri.. rii.. a ring…” Unsure of what the troop had brought him along for, since he was obviously no expert on rocks or maps.

Sending a silent look to his companions with a curt nod at the end, causing them all to take a few paces backwards. “Pull the ring boy, and then step back if you value your life.” The brigands voice ordered with a tone of absolute authority. Trembling, Kurtz took the ring in his right hand, and pulled it as hard as he could, having to brace his feet against the rock to gain enough force to move it. As the chain attached to the pull ring began to move, a sharp pain coursed through Kurtz hand and arm, like a burning that went the entire length of his arm. The searing pain caused Kurtz to let go of the ring and fall backwards, screaming.

The large man stomped over to the mewling boy, picking him up by the front of his shirt. “I told you to pull the ring boy!” delivering a powerful blow across the youth’s face with the back of his hand. “The pain you feel now won’t come close to what we’ll do to you if you don’t. We’ve sought this place for a long time, and we won’t be stopped now boy. Do it.” Kurtz rose slowly, tears streaming down his face and blood dripping from the corner of his lip. He moved towards the mound again and grabbed the ring a second time.