The spine of the mountain

I set up camp for the night.  Ain’t nothin’ following me from that band of fanatics an’ don’t have to worry ’bout gettin’ weary from the cold while I ‘ave this Bugman’s XXXXXX.  I managed to round up some hares, unlucky morsels.  So, I dined ‘andsomely and enjoyed a few swigs o’ me Bugman’s.  I’ll be restin’ full and ‘appy tonight.

Earlier today, while the dusk was settin’ in and I was still scoutin’ a way through this mountain, I came across an unnerving pass.  Jagged looming spikes of ice growing out of the mountainside, forming a ravenous mouth out of the path.  The light dare not enter such a place, nor any creature that I happen to see.  I wasn’t too keen on goin’ into such a place with darkness comin’ upon me so quick.  I’ll be sure to bury my Bugman’s next to a tree that I’ll put the Hammersmith rune upon, leave me writin’ in my camp as well.  If I don’ come out of there, I pray Grungni leads a dwarf to this stout.

– Thrangis “The Red” Hammersmith

A chill no bitter can better...

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