A maelstrom of snow and ice swirled around the two figures, blurring their lines and concealing them within the clearing. The guards outside of the growing meadow were dead, their bodies already freezing solid, and the pickets within the forest were unaware of the presence of the two.
“Land’s frozen…we’re chosen…we know….we know…where we….go….” the elf muttered, unaffected by the sub-zero temperatures, despite the fact that she was naked, wearing only calf-high boots, a black headband, and smears of brightly-dyed animal fat spread across her bare skin.
The riot of images, sounds, and voices in her head rivaled that of the storm, colliding and morphing with one another. Sanity was no longer a question or concern, but volition persisted, along with the remnants of core values, and perspectives based on them.
“Tuk, tuk,” she clicked at the great cat under her, urging it forward a few steps.
And without further talk, sound or thought, she and her companion vaulted through the winter portal, eager to find and destroy the causes and creatures behind the frozen blight visited on her beloved Narlmarches.