Spoiler: Chapter 44 - The Devil's Heart - Part 2
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It was a further three hours to traverse down from the plateau and return to find Pellius having finished digging through the old cellar doorway. When she arrived by the ancient site, she peeked into the tunneled hole, seeing the flicker of a campfire beneath. Carefully dropping down, she found herself within a small chamber, walls carved from rough stone in a place shielded from time.
“What is this place?” she asked Pellius, looking over the small recesses in the stone.
“Old,” he answered, standing from where he was unpacking his belongings, “Very old. It has been here possibly since before humans came to Talingarde. Look at these.”
He guided Willow to a crevice in the wall on the opposite side of the room, where Garvana and Traya stood. The recess housed a curious figurine, carved crudely from stone. Though it vaguely resembled a human, it bore a long slanted forehead, sharp angular features and tall antlers that grew from its head. Turning her head to look at the others nooks, it was clear that once they had been filled with similar carvings, though the long wear of time had taken its toll on the others.
“I have never heard of such creatures,” Willow said quietly, eyes raking over the statue, looking for something to spark recognition, “But so little is known of the north. Well, little more than it being inhabited by savages.”
“An ancient civilization,” Traya said in awe, “That would fetch a grand price with the right scholar.”
“Indeed,” Pellius nodded, arching his brow to Willow, “My thoughts exactly. But I fear to touch it, for it seems it may crumble within my fingers. It needs one with a gentler touch.”
Willow smirked, turning to the leather sack that Pellius carried. It was a curious bag that radiated arcana, a curious magic that expanded the inside of the bag immeasurably. Willow reached her hand in, pulling out a simple wooden box. She placed in on the ground, opening its latch to reveal the silk lining that comfortably housed three potions. Though Pellius had insisted that glass vials would be safe within the bag alone, Willow had always been more cautious. She quickly removed the vials and slipped them into her pouch, readjusting the silk to fit a single item. She returned to the figurine, using careful fingers to lift it from its rest and place it within the box. She shifted the silk around it, ensuring its snug fit before sealing it away.
“And that is why,” Pellius chuckled, “We wait for you.”
“Did you find anything at the dome?” Traya asked, a frown pulling her brow.
“I did,” Willow nodded, placing the box back in the arcane bag, “A second way in, direct into Nithoggr’s treasure horde.”
“Truly?” Garvana said, brows rising, “Did you see him?”
“Yes,” she replied, a slight chilled trepidation encasing her words, “The depictions do not do him justice.”
“They do not,” Garvana agreed, an understanding in their shared glance.
“So what is the plan?” Pellius asked, a firm charge in his voice, “Do we use this second entrance?”
“I think it is most wise,” Willow responded, nodding stiffly, “It is at the very top of the dome, an easy exit for Nithoggr. It is closed by a large boulder, but there is a gap in the stone large enough for a person to fit through. Though, if my assumption is correct, when Jeratheon appears, Nithoggr will use this exit and cast aside the boulder. It is the most direct opening to the outside.”
“And we what?” Traya scoffed, “Hide by the boulder and hope he does not see us?”
“I will hide by the top,” Willow shrugged, ignoring the snapping tone, “We do not know how long Jeratheon will keep him away, we need every second we can get inside that chamber.”
“Did you see the phylactery?” Garvana frowned.
“No,” Willow shook her head with a small laugh that held little humour, “It will not be that easy. The horde is far larger than we could have imagined. We have our work cut out for us…”

They spent the night in uneasy slumber, hidden from the barreling rain, listening to the deafening howl of the winds. This far north, there was not a moments peace from the ravaging weather. Even as inland as they were, the sound of the seas pummeling the stone edge of the isle could be heard as if they were atop the shore itself. When dawn finally arrived, it brought no change save the light of the sun. They had given Jeratheon three days to travel the skies to the bitter lands claimed by Nithoggr. And so they had at minimum another day and night to await his arrival. As the Forsaken rose for the day, they each had a different way to pass the time. Pellius had chosen to scout the surrounding forest, to find a few places of refuge, small nooks where he could hide should the dragon manage to catch his scent upon their escape. Traya refused to leave the safety and comfort of their camp, choosing to keep her blood warm in the hidden chamber, rather than risk the biting cold of the forest. Garvana was not content with the extent of Willow’s scouting, and so she took off early towards the dome, intent on finding more information on the cavern and its inhabitants. For a moment, Willow had thought on accompanying the stubborn woman, but decided against it. Close to camp there was an overhanging rock, complete with a slender shelf of ice, large enough to house her comfortably and shield her from the rain. From this vantage point, she could keep watch on both the camp and the northern mountains. She nestled in, pulling her fur and wool tightly around her, opening the tome they had found in Chargammon’s lair to the pages dedicated to the Strider in the Dark. There she spent the day, learning everything she could on the feral beast of death, watching his caverns from afar.

It was a few hours later, that a curious sight unfolded high along the sharp plateau. In a flash of brilliant colour, explosions of bright fuchsia and shimmering green erupted through the air, before something rippled into view. From as far away as Willow was, it was hard to make out what had appeared in the skies, but as she lowered her book and quickly pulled free the arcane lenses from her pack, she narrowed her eyes upon the curious descent, seeing a fur hood fall from atop what she now knew was a creatures head. A laugh tickled her tongue as she recognized the figure, falling from the skies and hitting the ground with an unceremonious thud, a spray of water shooting outwards as she landed. Garvana gathered herself, sparing a quick glance behind her before she sprinted the long haul towards camp. Though clad in heavy steel, the trip downwards was quick when it was run as fast and desperately as the woman had run it. Willow could not help the chuckle that escaped, watching the small spec of Garvana, sprinting through the wind swept slate. She strained her eyes to scan the plateau, but saw no more colours nor pursuing guard. She quickly grabbed her book and slipped it into her pack, deftly dropping from her high perch to the wet ground beneath. She skimmed towards the cellar, quickly jumping into the hole, to the obvious surprise of the startled sorcerous.
“Garvana is on her way back,” Willow said quickly, “And she may not be alone.”
Traya was quick to her feet, grabbing her fur cloak and wrapping it around her.
“What is going on?” she rushed.
“I am not sure,” Willow replied, dropping her back in the corner, checking the fastenings on her sheathes, “I saw an explosion of colour, spells of some kind I think, and then Garvana fall from the skies. She–
“Fell from the sky?” Traya balked.
“Yes,” Willow laughed, “I have no idea. But I can see no one chasing her, though she is running this way as if something is.”
“Have you seen Pellius?” Traya frowned, scurrying towards the exit.
“Last saw him heading west, about an hour ago. I have not seen him since.”
The pair scaled the rock wall, looking to the north, but seeing nothing amongst the arching lands. Willow returned to her perch, climbing along the jagged ice to see higher across the valley, spying the small image of Garvana still running towards them.
“If she keeps up the run,” she yelled over the wind, “She’ll be back within the hour!”
“What about the lair?!” Traya yelled, her frown pulling low.
“Quiet and still!” she replied, tracing the plateau with her sight, “I do not see anything!”

After Willow helped pull Traya up the ice and into the nook, they waited and watched the slow approach of Garvana, eyes keen for the threat she was trying to escape. As she crested the last hill towards the camp, Pellius returned from his own trek, brow pulled low as he spied the pair crouched in the alcove.
“What was that magic?!” he yelled, “Did you see it?!”
Willow swiftly stepped off and dropped from the perch.
“Yes,” she nodded, walking to his side rather than shouting over the crying wind, a humorous smile lifting the corner of her lip, “Did you see Garvana fall?”
“Fall?” he frowned, “Fall from where?”
“The skies,” Willow scoffed, “Just after the spells. She appeared from no where and fell to the ground. We’ve watched her return; she should be here any moment.”
Just as she spoke, Garvana appeared upon the hill.
“What happened?!” Pellius demanded.
Willow could not help but grin at her sheepish expression.
“It is a long story,” she dismissed, stalking passed them towards the cellar.
“If there is anything we have in abundance,” Willow commented, trying to hide her grin, “It is time.”
The woman scowled, shaking her head before dropping into the hole. Pellius shot Willow a serious look to silence the giggle that fell from her lips, before he followed Garvana into the camp. When both Traya and Willow dropped down, the three of them looked to Garvana expectantly. The woman ignored them for a moment, while she stripped off the heaviest pieces of her armour, wiping the ice from it that had formed between the funneling rain and cold chill of the wind.
“You will have to tell us eventually,” Willow sighed, though the grin still tugged at her lips, “I simply must know the story behind that amazing fall.”
“You saw that?” Garvana said, frowning in indignation.
“Of course,” Willow chuckled, “I spent the day watching the dome, remember?”
Garvana expelled a heavy breath, shaking her head before taking a seat.
“Should we be wary of anything tracking you here?” Pellius asked firmly.
“No,” Garvana huffed, “They did not follow outside of the dome, I think their instruction is to defend the lair, threats within it only.”
“They?” Willow asked, arching her brow.
Once more, Garvana sighed heavily.
“I found another entry into the caverns,” she began, “Not quite so direct to Nithoggr, but to the inside. Actually, there was dozens of them. A small network of tunnels, leading in every direction. I have no clue what carved them, but they were everywhere. I followed one for the better part of an hour, deeper into the cavern, but apparently picked the tunnel that lead up towards the entry. But, the entrance is not unguarded.”
“What did you find?” Traya asked, a trace of worry in her voice.
“Three stone guardians,” she said quietly, “One who looked much like that statue we found in here. But the other two were different. One was carved to look like it had flesh made from rough stone, no details on its face, just crude stone. The other, had the face of a canine.”
“And the three of them were together?” Willow asked, “I have never heard of such things. Except possibly the stone skin, could it have been an elemental?”
“No,” Garvana shook her head, “It was not an elemental. It was a guardian statue, one of good and chaos...”
Garvana described the powerful auras carried by the guardians. Imbued with the might of good and the wrath of chaos. They had shouted words of pure force towards her, words in an undecipherable language, words of chaos that punished those who repel against them. They had brandished archaic blades towards her, moving in perfect unison to destroy or banish the intruder of the cavern that they were bound to protect. The words had carried such might that they had rung a piercing wail inside Garvana’s head, blinding her senses and dulling her vision. She had tried desperately to dispel the foul magic, but struggled to understand her own words as they fell soundlessly from her mouth. Her arcane tricks had failed as the three had converged upon her, leaving her little choice but to flee out of the entrance. They blocked her exit with their raging swords, and so she had turned herself to gas to slink threw their offence. But she had not counted on the powerful wind that thrashed along the plateau. In the form of mist, she was swept away and forced high into the air, no way to fight its course that moved above the dome.
“The statues followed me to the exit,” Garvana continued, “I could not hear anything, but I saw the blasts of magic. If the wind had not been so strong, I would have been hit. But I could not fight the wind, it was moving to fast and pushing me too high… so I had to transform back…”
“Are you hurt?” Willow asked warmly, though the way she bit her lip to contain her laughter deceived her caring words.
“I am fine,” Garvana snapped, lifting her chin, “But I recommend we do not try getting in that way.”
Willow grinned, unable to stop the soft laughter, “Perhaps that is best…”

It was deep into the darkness of night when the Forsaken were shaken from their sleep. The ground trembled beneath them as Willow’s eyes flickered open, to see Traya who had been awake and on watch, standing by the overhead entrance, looking up with wide eyes. Footsteps, from the sounds of a dozen creatures, heavy and thundering, but slow and methodical pace. Willow quickly threw off her blanket, grabbing hold of her blades that lay by her side. The Forsaken were trapped. Enclosed within a small room with only a single way out. With a swift look to the others, Willow pulled free a scroll from her case and motioned to each of them. Though Garvana and Traya nodded, quickly moving to her side, Pellius shook his head firmly, gripping his blade defiantly. Willow rolled her eyes, signalling her impatience, yet he simply shook his head again. She scowled under her breath, but quietly read the words of the scroll and transported the three of them up into the hidden alcove she had spent the day in. Trepidation set in swiftly. Six curious shaped earth elementals, shaped in a form that vaguely resembled humans. They were slowly shuffling around the foundation that once housed a building, speaking in voices that crackled like grinding stone. As one moved towards the cellar door, Garvana stood from her crouch.
“What are you doing here?” Garvana snapped, “What do you want?”
Only one of the beings bothered to look towards her, at least, Willow assumed it looked towards her. Where its face should have been, was simply portion of rough stone with no features. Grinding stone greeted her, no words they could understand. Traya reached out and lay her hand on Willow’s shoulder, whispering an incantation under her breath. Suddenly, the rustling stone morphed to crudely strung together words that Willow could understand.
“Shelter?” said one of the stone shapes, in a questioning tone.
“Defilers?” growled another, in a more accusatory voice.
Yet, they did not attack, nor seem bothered by the presence of those who stood above them. Slowly, two of them sank beneath the surface, moving towards the centre of the cellar.
“Have we done something to offend?” Willow asked, assuming she had understood the magic correctly.
“Shelter?” repeated the being.
“Defilers?” chimed in the other two left above the surface.
As one of them leant forward and lay its hand upon the stone foundation, hovering for a moment as if listening to something Willow could not hear, points and clues seemed to connect and align in her mind. Defilers, they had said. To damage or mar a place or person. Perhaps, she thought, her assumption had been correct. The guardians Garvana had awoken, she had described one looking much the same as the creatures that stood before them. She made slow movements as she dropped to the ground, keeping her intentions clear as she slowly made her way towards the cellar. When she dropped into the small cavern, she heard the ground shifting as the other beings followed her through the earth, squeezing into the chamber with the two already there. But Pellius was no where to be found.
“Pellius,” Willow said carefully, a sudden worry now she was encased in such a small chamber with six massive earthen beasts, “I need the figurine we took. Quickly.”
For a moment, all was eerily still, as Willow’s panic began to rise. But just as she thought on her slender chance of possible escape, Pellius rippled into sight beside her. Though he looked to her in an uncertain glance, he pulled the wooden box from the arcane bag. He handed it to Willow, who slowly unfastened the latch and carefully opened the lid. When the beings saw the statue within the silk, a rumble of grinding stone that sounded much like growls filled the chamber. Willow slowly made her through the throng of elementals towards the crevice where the statue once lay. With cautious hands she lifted it from the box, replacing it where they found it, laying it on its side just as it had been. As she stepped back from the crevice, hoping her hunch had been correct, she returned by Pellius’ side and awaited their fate. One of the beings reached out its hand, touching the stone carving with an almost loving gesture. It paused for a minute, once again listening to something that Willow could not here. It turned to the others, speaking only a single word.
“Complete,” he rasped.
With no more emotion or reaction, they turned into the walls and disappeared beyond the stone. For a moment Willow and Pellius simply remained where they were, in silence they listened to the fading sound of crumbling rock.
“Very clever, my lady,” Pellius commented, brows still high and wary.
“Very lucky,” she replied, with a half hearted chuckle.
When Garvana and Traya returned to the underground chamber, they looked perplexed and suspicious as the spied the empty room.
“Are they gone?” Garvana asked.
“I believe so,” Willow shrugged.
“What did they want?” Traya frowned.
“Their statue,” Willow replied, indicating to the figurine back on its shelf, “I think they are accepting of us resting here, but not to touch or break anything. They were questioning if we were using the cellar for shelter or if we had come to defile the place.”
“They just left after you put it back?” Traya scoffed, “And we are expected to sleep soundly here tonight?”
Willow laughed, turning to the sorcerous with an arched brow, “And do you have any better ideas?”


As the sun lifted from the horizon and the Forsaken emerged from the cellar, the sound of enormous wings blowing gusts of air powerful enough to strip bristles from the pine trees caught their immediate attention. Jeratheon, the seething black dragon circled low over their position, battering them with waves of loose branches and pinecones. Willow looked up to the beast, pressing her finger to lips and speaking into the silence of the magic gloves.
“Wait until we reach the dome,” she said, pointing with the other hand towards the foreboding stone structure, “Then draw the beast away.”
The vicious dragon nodded stiffly, snarling to show he was still displeased with his part in the plan, before taking off towards the south to await their signal. With a last check of their gear and weapons, the Forsaken gathered together, hands upon each other’s shoulders. With a final glance to one another and a slow shared steadying exhale, the magic whisked them away, through the coursing portal and up to the iced plateau. It was there that they split up, Willow quickly and quietly scaling the rocky dome while the others found their own places to hide from the beast as he emerged from his slumber. When she arrived at the top, she lowered herself into a jagged crevice in the slate, lying flat upon the surface – ready and waiting to pounce. When the roar of the young black dragon echoed across the expanse, the hairs on Willow’s neck stood on end. The anticipation built within her, as she watched the boulder with enraptured attention. Jeratheon snarled out another frightening roar, the sound of his beating wings passing overhead, before he turned for the west and began to make his way out to sea. Suddenly, the boulder was thrown from its rest, barrelling down the side of the dome. Willow cursed under her breath, swiftly rolling out of its path, keeping as low as she could. It was then that the feral beast arose from the dome, glaring white eyes piercing the skies, his large nostrils flaring wide as he sniffed for the scent of his prey. As he took off into the sky, Willow felt the fear and repulsion slither along her skin, as he moved in absolute and utter silence. Once he had travelled far enough away, she swiftly pounced towards the gap, taking a deep breath into her still and useless lungs before taking the leap to jump down into the darkness below.

The small glimpse from above that she had seen could not have truly told the story of the piled wealth that she fell upon. Glittering gold, shining silver and smouldering amber filled the chamber. Heaped upon itself, spilling to the edges of the cavern, more wealth than Willow had ever seen in one place. This horde differed vastly from the carefully arranged prize of Eiramanthus. The copper dragon had garnered his wealth and treasures with pride, meticulously organising each section. He had grouped together matching piles of silver, boxes filled with gold, special trinkets upon their own pedestals. He showed respect and admiration for each individual piece, cherishing the story of its attainment along with the prize itself. But here, this was a horde fuelled by nothing more than greed. The legendary greed of a draconic fable. There was no order among his treasures, broken chests pouring their contents into the fray, scattered pieces of armour and silk torn between and buried beneath buckets of coins and the unbearable weight of metals. The bones of countless creatures scattered amongst the treasure told the fatal ending of any man or beast foolish enough to enter the great Strider in the Dark’s lair. There was no order or care here, just an insatiable need to collect more and add to the teetering pile of treasure.
It was hard to keep concentration on the task at hand. Willow had never considered herself possessed by greed, but standing in the presence of such immense riches took more self control than she would have liked to admit. As the sound of Garvana and Pellius dropping from above echoed behind her, Willow snapped out of her dream, shaking her head quickly as she scanned the room. While Traya waited above and watched for Nithoggr’s return, the three of them set out into the treasure horde to begin their search. Willow had thought long and hard on where the heart was most likely to reside. With her momentary vision of the horde, she had thought over all she had seen. She was sure it would be buried deep within the gold heaps, keeping it safe from accidental discovery or destruction under the dragons weight. She was also sure it would be disguised as something simple and unassuming. She had seen many chests big enough to serve as a coffin, but one plain wooden box stood out in her memory. She had only seen the corner of it, the rest buried deep within the mountain of coins. But from what she had seen, it fit every piece of her assumption. Her eyes scanned the horde, widening as she saw her target, laying at the foot of the great stone monolith in the centre of the chamber. Though she ached to inspect the curious pillar that radiated such strong and powerful arcana, she pursed her lips as she decided against it, keeping her attentions on the pine box. She deftly climbed the crumbling pile of gold, using all of her strength to sweep off wave by wave of coins from her goal.
“Are you sure this is it, Willow?” Pellius called, scrabbling atop the heap to aid her in clearing the coin.
“No,” Willow growled, hefting another wave from the box, “But it is the best guess I have.”
“You are usually right,” he laughed, giving her a wink as he pulled the corner of the box, shifting it further into the open.
She could hear the rasping incantations falling from Garvana’s lips, as the woman’s eyes glazed over in white magic.
“I think you are,” Garvana said, “There is something in there. Immensely powerful, a treasure of the utmost evil.”
“That sounds like it,” Willow chuckled, heaving more gold from the top.
“I HAVE LOST SIGHT OF HIM!” Traya called from above.
“Quickly,” Willow rushed, “We must not dwell here long.”
With another heave from Pellius, they had the wooden box half way out of the golden mountain, but not far enough to get it open. Willow heard Garvana skittering around the horde, throwing treasures into her bag, using her seeing magic to find the most powerful and arcane treasures amongst them. As she swept another cascading flood of coin from atop the box, she swore as only more seemed to fall from above it.
“Damn it to hell!” she cursed.
“Help me pull it!” Pellius commanded, heaving with the box firm in his grip.
As she made it to his side, they grasped a corner each and hauled backwards.
“HE IS COMING BACK!” Traya cried, terror shaking her voice, “YOU MUST HURRY!”
Willow and Pellius shared a look, swiftly nodding to one another. They gritted their teeth and pulled with all of their combined might, throwing themselves backwards. It was enough, and all at the same time, too much. The heaved the box free, but their momentum could not have been stopped. They were flung backwards from the wooden crate, skidding along the coin and bone, as the box sailed down the side of mountainous heap. Willow pounced up to her feet, scrambling atop the coin towards the box, unable to stop the smile that rose upon her lips. It was not a simple crate or box they had been hauling, it was a coffin. She flung the lid open, the wood smashing against the metal beneath, flinging splinters of wood across the horde.
“HOW LONG TRAYA?!” Pellius yelled.
“HE IS ALMOST HERE!”
The coffin was lined with soft silks and luxurious satins, cushioned paddings sewed into the intricate walls with gold threaded embroidery. Though the return of the beast was imminent, and Willow should have been crushed by fear and urgency – for a moment, she was calm and enraptured. Laying inside the box, were two glass vials filled with curious liquid, a silver pendant bearing the star of their dark lord, and small finely wrought golden chest. As if in a haze, alone within the chamber, Willow hands reached for the chest. With careful fingers, she opened the case and a fire of determination lit within her. Held within by sharp metal wire, was a withered and burned human heart, pierced by vicious iron thorns. This was their prize. This, was what they needed to fulfil their duty to their undying lord. The phylactery of the treacherous lich, the heart of Cardinal Adrastus Thorn.
Suddenly, time returned in a rush of spiralling vision.
“GET DOWN HERE, TRAYA!” Pellius yelled, “WE HAVE IT!”
“TOO LATE!” she screamed, utter terror echoing her words, “HE IS HERE!”
Willow clamped the small golden chest closed, head spinning to the others. She threw the box into her pack and started sprinting towards Pellius. As she passed, a calico sack filled with spilled amber chunks caught her eye. She scooped it up with her free hand, before leaping over a fallen chest in her way. Suddenly, the massive dome shook beneath them, the glittering mountain trembling as it scattered its sliding coin. A voice from above, filled with raw and devouring hatred and fury, a bitter sound that pierced a freezing chill along Willow’s spine.
“VA’ROKKA!” seethed the voice in consuming malice.
The ancient draconic word for thieves spat towards them, as Willow’s sight drew upward towards the crumbled opening in the dome. What she saw, forced her steps to falter. When hidden by shadow or obscured by pelting rain and snow, the beast merely seemed a gargantuan foreboding mystery. But as it descended upon them, its serpent bone body creaking as the osseous jagged matter glided together, Willow felt the truth of fear sink deep into her chest. Eyes that shined a bloodied crimson, seething with pure and unadulterated venom, glaring a hatred more vile than any that she had seen before. They had offended the linnorm in the most atrocious of ways. Instead of facing the beast in valour and honour, they had squirmed into his home and defiled his most precious and sacred place. They had dared to try and steal from him. For a moment, Willow’s feet were paralysed amongst the glittering coin beneath her. Though she heard the panicked and rushed footsteps of Garvana and Pellius charging towards her –for a moment, she could do nothing but cower beneath the approaching dragon.
The few seconds that followed, passed like years eternal. Willow’s hands felt weak as they fumbled in her scroll pouch, desperately reaching for the edge of parchment, dragging it free through the leather opening as the beast drew nearer. She felt the weight of Pellius’ hand grasp her shoulder, a second before Garvana’s did the same. She warred with her eyes to draw away from the dragon, words stumbling from her mouth as she stuttered the incantation. The feral creature’s maw opened wide as he plunged down from the ceiling, a hundred sharp and jagged teeth larger than her arms glistening in the rays of light from above. Time was counted in heartbeats, though none echoed from their chests. With one beat, the words finally whispered their way from her lips. With two beats, the beast’s open jaw lunged at her. With a third thundering beat, the maw snapped shut with the force of bone shattering compression. Yet it simply crushed through thin air. The coursing vortex of magic tore upon their flesh as it hurled them through the spiralling portal, dropping them out carelessly into the small cellar beneath the ground in the pine forest. As the three of them were thrown to the stone floor, Nithoggr’s ire was heard in a soul-crushing roar that shook the ground around them. They looked to one another, wide eyes struggling to exude relief as the shattering of rock and stone echoed across the frosted expanse.
“Do you have it?” Garvana rushed, flinching as another eruption of stone trembled.
Willow quickly pulled the clasp of her pack open, sighing a heavy breath to see the glittering gold chest within her bag.
“Yes,” she nodded, throwing a glance around the room, “But where is Traya?”
“She must have retreated to the manor,” Pellius said quickly, “I would advise us to do the same. Now.”
Suddenly, the earth rumbled as sounds of exploding stone and thundering blasts of enormous debris rained upon the slate valley. As they huddled together and the enchanted words sang in the small chamber, they were gifted with a final warning before the portal whisked them away.
“I WILL FIND YOU VILE SCUM!” Nithoggr roared in vicious promise, “AND MAKE YOU SUFFER FOR AN ETERNITY…”