Snow falls heavily, so heavily in fact that nothing can be seen for several paces in front any creature that would seek to venture out into such an inhospitable environment. But there is something out there… In the endless and unrelenting storm…
They are hard to spot but as sure as anything several creatures are slowly trawling through the snow. A group of elves maybe? It is hard to see…
Huddled, the group of elves walk close to one another, afraid of wandering out of sight and becoming lost, alone and vulnerable. And not too far ahead of them, a pace or two perhaps, two sentinels lead the way, they look about themselves, their eyes trying and failing to pierce the wall of falling snow.
To the elves, it seems that the wind is unrelenting, it howls and wails as though angry, throwing the odd fragment of plant life into the faces of the travellers. It seems as though an enraged beast hunting after its prey.
Shaking her head and clenching her hands into fists, Fervain tries to ignore the howling winds and the ever increasing feeling of unease within the very pit of her stomach. Her only comfort comes from knowing that the one elf she truly trusts is up ahead, the only one of those sentinels with the skill to lead them through the wall of snow.
She smiles, though crookedly, thinking about the elf and the time that they had spent together this autumn. She loves him, she knows that, she begins to wonder about the future, about her life with him.
Such a happy life that it will be… She muses.
While deep within her daydream, a slight sound tugs at the maiden’s thoughts for a moment, it seems distant but Fervain is not too sure as to what it is.
All of her concentration now turns to the sound, listening to it intently. At first she can barely hear it over the endless and unrelenting cries of the wind but it seems to be getting louder.
Then suddenly, the two sentinels before them stop, they look from side to side; obviously having heard the sound, it had now become so loud that it sounds as though loud echoing drum beats, rhymic and unnatural. They seem to discuss some matter- most likely the drumming of course.
One of the sentinels ahead, Gilolon, turns toward the group, he approaches and pulling his shawl away from his face, he shouts- almost inaudibly, ‘Something…’ Fervain struggles to hear over the snow and the strange drumming ‘Get…’ Some of the other elves nod, they must have understood his meaning.
Gilolon, seeing her confusion takes her by the arm, his face a mask of concern. Quickly he pulls her away from the group toward the other sentinel. The sentinel turns and nods to the elves, waving the group to follow, and then pointing toward what would appear to be an opening in the side of the mountain.
Fervain, frowns, eyeing the opening with suspicion. Visibly it is obvious that she does not like the idea of going into some unknown cave, though perhaps it would be safer to avoid whatever it is that is making that sound…. Realising this, she eagerly moves toward the cave, Gilolon still leading almost dragging her through the snow.
Fervain pales, her mouth becomes dry, knowing the implication of such a fear that would cause Gilolon to drag her so roughly.
Reluctantly and afraid of what she might see, she looks up to Gilolon. Plain for all to see, she can see that his features are strained, he is trying desperately to hide his own concern. The seriousness of the situation is now evident- Fervain’s heart beat quickens, it seems to skip to the sound of the ever loudening drum beat and now she feels fear well within her.
This cannot be good… This cannot be good at all. She thinks to herself. Swallowing hard, looking to the ever approaching entrance of the cave.
