Harshland further into the story

The invisible steps were soggy with the feel of moss, grime and the slow trickle of cold water. Exhausted, Tyke pulled himself drunkenly over the last of them with a sigh of relief. He peered vainly into the blackness and could make out the vague sheen of smooth stone. After gaining his feet and realigning his garments and back pack he moved wearily into the darkness. The cold stone floor was broken and uneven. As his eyes adjusted he could barely make out the shape of a large arch, housing what appeared to be an entrance. He could also define at either side the shapes of two statues. They weren't fashioned to resemble men, but creatures. They wore helmets of iron and held jagged spears, standing as if to strike down towards the path. Skilled hands had carved them straight into the side of the mountain countless years before. Between them hung two iron shod wooden doors, built as if for the entry of someone or thing of enormous height and girth.

Feeling with his feet he moved slowly towards the menacing figures until he was within reach. A warm draft could be felt along with a smell that must have been a hundred years old. With much hesitation he placed a hand on each side and pushed forward with a cry. To his surprise the doors swung silently before coming to an abrupt stop on the stone interior. The clank of steel on stone pierced the air violently and Tyke cringed at it. What a fool he must be. Every living thing on the mountain will have heard my reckless reception. He had no choice but to enter the black chamber. Just a few paces over the threshold and what seemed like an eternity had past before he stopped again. Silence surrounded him as he stood terrified, 'what has he awoken, what darkness has he disturbed?' Terror seized his body... Waiting for something, a response to his foolish entry. The quiet was so deep Tyke wasn't sure weather the sounds he heard were that of his heart beating in his throat or the soft fall of heavy feet.

A feeling of complete dread winded him when it became clear that he was right. His heart was indeed beating in his throat and there were sounds of feet other than his own in that wretched chamber. The next sensation he felt was one of utter dispare. Its breath rolled hot down the back of his neck, its clawed vice shut tightly about his throat as his scream gargled and fell dead in the blackness. Its beard scraped his cheek sending a shiver to every limb of his body. It uttered words of black hatred in a tongue never meant for the ears of men. Suddenly Tyke felt strength in his limbs once again and gathering his wits he remembered, the pin that bound his coat! With one arm still free he drew it, the beasts grip was tightening now and Tyke was out of breath. With every ounce of strength left in him he struck towards the foul fingers that pinched his throat.

Its grip loosened and Tyke fell forward with a gasp. Sitting almost between its feet he shuffled backwards along the floor. The figure although four times the size resembled that of a man, gnarled and bent with time. His face was disfigured and his glare stopped Tykes heart. Sparing no time Tyke stumbled to his feet and ran blindly into darkness. Its roar was deafening and for a moment the presence of its intruder was forgotten.

Outside the moons veil had lifted, letting a small degree of light into the chamber through its entrance at the far side of the vast hall, and now on the other side of the beast. Tyke turned briefly to glimpse his pursuit. Its arms were thrown wildly in the air and its feet beat the floor with such force that loosened debris from the roof. Tyke stumbled on finding a wall and guiding himself along it he made about ten paces before its chase had resumed, another five and it was within striking range. At that moment three things happened. The wall receded, the feeling of bone breaking on rock shot up Tykes leg while the sound of its arm slicing the air inches above Tykes head as he fell before colliding with the corner where the wall receded. Its arm met its target with a splintered crack. The beast passed directly over Tyke with much momentum before tumbling and sliding into a heaving wreck on the cold stone floor.

The pain of Tykes broken foot was crippling yet his hunter had now clambered up and was sitting knelled with one arm propping it on a large rock. He was facing away from Tyke and seemed to be in a daze. Tyke looked down and realized he was still clutching the pin. In a great struggle he climbed to his feet once again and so at the end of his desperation he limped towards his demise.

Now he stood behind the thing and with the last of his energy he through himself onto its hairy mass grasping the locks of its main which hid its grotesque head, rousing it from its stooper. The beast stood and twisted throwing Tyke up onto its shoulder so that he was sitting facing the side of its head. Its eyes were as wide as plates and held a darkness that eclipsed that which surrounded it.
Taking grip of its ear with one arm Tyke drew the other back and bought it towards its head with all his anger. The pin struck its forehead and bounced, scraping across the top of its skull. It went into a blind madness, quickly Tyke drew for another blow this time striking the closer eye. The pin sunk in, petruding from its temple and nearly stabbing Tykes own hand which was desperately holding the ear which was positioned close to its face.
It stopped still... a dumb groan left its mouth.

They fell together and lay face to face, its last breaths splashing blood across Tykes face as they drifted into unconsciousness.