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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Hrothgar" data-source="post: 2672569" data-attributes="member: 22226">Aislinn sits silently, her ears straining as they communicate to her the story unfolding around her.  Near her, Kaela kneels by the long-dead Dorn, scraping at the encrusted blade.  With a sharp "click" a large chunk of limestone breaks off suddenly, Kaela's fingers accidently sliding along the blade.  Looking at her fingers and the drops of blood that form, Kaela is amazed the blade has kept its edge after all these years.  Brushing away the limestone chips, Kaela notes the bold runes are Dorn in origin, much like runes she has seen on ancient Dorn structures, but totally unlike the elegant, flowing script on the ruins in the room.OOC: I've checked characters in the Rogues Gallery and it does not look like anyone is literate!Starhl sits quietly, his massive body just glad to finally rest.  Like the unforgiving north, he does not complain, he just accepts.  His eyes glance over the motley crew.  How much his life has changed in just a few hours.  A few hours?  Impossible to tell in this darkness.  It might have been several days for all he could tell.  His eyes drift to the girl Aislinn, already drifting off, her young body spent.  What is her story?  What is so precious about her that the Shadow would destroy an entire village to capture her?  Was he foolish to put all his trust in protecting her?  And what is this "goddess" she speaks of?  Strange no one else has dared question her and the motives of the villagers of Caft to hide her.Valurel, finally overcome by his wounds and the aching march through Northern Eredane's underground, drifts into sleep...A human girl runs before him, her long brown hair trailing.  Who is she?  He calls, but she continues to run.  He must catch her before she hurts herself.  His breath comes in gasps, his legs leaden.  He cannot catch her.  Dark shadows begin to gather around her, her form beginning to fade from his vision.  No!  She is being taken from him.  Nothing he can do.  Run!  Run!  Run!  No! A cliff..falling...falling...the girl...gone...Valurel stands on a mountain.  Tall and cold.  The wind in his hair.  Touching the sky.  Below him stretches a green sea.  The Veradeen.  To the west, golden rays of a setting sun pierce a black cloud bank over the western ocean.  Under the dark clouds lies the girl.  She is dead.  Her skin a pasty white.  Passing over her the clouds break on the Veradeen and the green sea to the south, bringing a soaking rain, strengthening the forest.  The emerald forest.   Valurel throws his head back, his face spattered by the life-giving rain...</blockquote>

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