Kagam Khazads -- Oracles and Visions

[KingODuckingham]

Many feet up the slopes of Zirakzigil sits a small cave, clear and clean. Within is the den of the few members of the Kagam Khazads who have peered into the mists beyond space and time. These dwarves can interpret the past, present, and future. Those in Middle-earth who wish a prophecy, vision interpretation, or simply sage advice make the treacherous, difficult climb up the side of the mountain. They wait patiently and reverentially for the attention of one of the old dwarves who sit unmovable as a boulder within the cavern. Inscribed above, high on the walls, are dwarven runes that read:

The true knowledge is that of self.

You may come one and all to ask questions or tell visions or dreams of the dwarf Nali, currently sitting peacefully near the front of the cave. There will be answers. There will be no guarantee of understanding, though,a nd no clarifications are offered. The Kagam Khazads do not have the patience for more than one question. It is up to you to interpret the answers.

Rules
Only rules are: this is an RP Thread so please stick to IC posts and follow the Plaza Rules. Come ask of the Oracle(s)!

[Lokktar]

Snak and her raven Vit. She's a dragon hunter from up north in the Ered Mithrin

Snak knew the risks. These mountains were crawling with dwarf. She wanted to believe that she was making the right choice. The dwarf lands were not friendly to orc kind. But decades on these mountain ranges had made her practically a ghost in the pines, and Vit would alert her to any dwarf axes from the sky above. Besides, she was almost desperate for answers at this point.
These were ranges the she-orc did not frequent. Too much dwarf. And so the going was slow and careful. It had been a month since she set out from her camp in the North. And up here above the clouds, Aule's presence was as clear as ever.
She had brought a long scarf, almost a rag, to drape around face. It would not fool any dwarf, but perhaps it would be less offensive to the Oracles eyes. With every step, she prayed to Aule that she would be the only seeker there this day. As a girl, she heard all the stories of the savagery of the dwarf. how they would eat little orcs alive if they ever found one. How their lust for gold drove them to betray their own kinsfolk. How they dug ever deeper into the earth and communed with things that were best left asleep. Snak's kind did not prefer to hovel in the caves. They were orcs of the open mountain ranges. Orcs of the pines. Of the hunt. Her wide brimmed hat protected her from the sun. She had no idea why anybody would want to spend their wholes lives hiding in a cavern.

She was three days out from the Kagam Khazad's lair. Her gut was telling her to go back. Back to the safety of the North, where roving orc tribes kept the land clear of the wretched dwarf. In the last few days alone she had passed half a dozen dwarf shrines. Their presence was everywhere. But Aule was driving her ever forward. She had to obey.

[Lokktar]

"In the beginning, before the heaven and the earth and the sea were created, the great abyss Ginungagap was without form and void, and the spirit of Fimbultyr moved upon the face of the deep, until the ice-cold rivers, the Elivogs, flowing from Niflheim, came in contact with the dazzling flames from Muspelheim. This was before Chaos."
~Prose Edda

As a girl, Snak once spent 8 days in the highest branches of a Greylin Cedar waiting out a rival orc raid, after which it took her another week to meet back up with the remnants of her tribe. Her kin took her for dead. She waited 3 days in a crevice above the mouth of the Dwarf Oracle cave, during which she saw no one, dwarf or otherwise, enter or leave.

On the third night the old dream came back to her. The yawning abyss at the North edge of the world. Beyond which even the dead could not go. The Dragon asleep on the bottom as big as the world itself. She sat, bare feet dangling over the edge of creation, over the slumbering beast. It was as if she were some god looking over the entirety of Arda carved out in scale and tendon and wing. It is said among her kind that, long ago, the North was home to great dragons that aided Prince Melkor against his foes in the West. These beasts were myth, nothing more. Snak had traveled all across the Gundabad and the Withered Heath since her childhood. Never had she come across evidence of any fire breather bigger than a horse, living or dead.

Only in her dreams did she walk among the colossal rib bones like pillars of some long ago civilization. Asleep in her hide bag she would enter the deepest part of her mind and find herself on top of a treebare peak. There above the clouds she would shelter in the skull of an ancient Cold-Drake. Bigger than any mansion of man. In her dreams she would find hidden valleys above the treeline littered with them like some half excavated burial ground. Tree sized bones protruding from the ice and snow.

And yet none of these beasts came close to the enormity of the serpent sleeping, coiled, under the foundations of Arda. This dream first came to her a year ago.

Snak ate the last of her rabbit. Whenever Vit brought her a new kill she skinned it, eviscerated the flesh from the bone, and wrapped the sweet chunks of flesh up in the pelt. She sucked the raw flesh down her throat and threw the pelt away in the snow. She drank the last of her water and wrapped her face up in the brown scarf. Of her person, only her eyes were visible. Even these would be enough to give her away as orc.

Carefully, she scaled down the krag to the mouth of the cave. The dwarf carvings on the cavern walls reminded her of the most ancient shrines on the Gundabad. Of the snow temples the first dwarves carved into the young rock of Arda. The cavern was warm and dimly lit. And Aule's voice was hushed to just a whisper as if even he did not want to break the silence of this sacred place dedicated to himself. She sat down at the Dwarf Oracle's feet cross legged.

"Blessed Oracle," said she. "I seek the edge of the world and Ginnungagap. And the beast that slumbers therein."

[KingODuckingham]

NPC Nali, Oracle

Nali breathed heavily these days, even in a resting or sitting position. He was surrounded by cushions to offset the hardness of the stone floor beneath. He disdained chairs. His posture was hunched, his face nearly hidden behind the upward curls of his beard. His hair was as white as it was possible to be in a filthy, smoky cave.

Yes, smoky, for the fumes lay heavy upon the oracles' cave. The air was difficult to inhale for the unaccustomed, but the oracles had grown used to the weight of the air, and common dwarves said it fueled their visionary inner eyes. It was said the fumes made clear the sight of past, present, and future, and gave the Kagam Khazads the words to speak, even words that sometimes the oracles themselves did not understand.

Nali spent most of his time in the day simply sitting, staring off into nothing, perhaps meditating, perhaps waiting. Who was to say? The occasional oracular attendants never dared to ask or to speculate. He never talked, almost never moved. Something truly important must occupy his time and thoughts, they were sure.

Whatever thoughts there were in Nali's hard head, they were interrupted by the appearance of a most unlikely visitor. An orc this close to Khazad-dum? While not in itself unusual, sometimes, this was a visitor rather than an attacker. Crouched low and coming to sit, the visitor was watched closely but not approached by the three attendants. They stayed at a respectful distance, waiting for some sign from the oracle himself. No sign came. Did Nali know that the visitor was of goblin-kind? Did Nalieven know there was a visitor at all? If he did, he gave no visible sign as the orc posed a request. There was a very long silence.





The dwarf suddenly inhaled sharply, then stopped breathing. His posture did not otherwise change. There was another extended silence.





Then the dwarf had a coughing fit. After hacking for a little while, he cleared his throat and looked up for the first time. His eyes were large and milky, but not pure white. He squinted in front of himself. He spoke in a raspy voice that was nevertheless strong and loud.

"You ask of the Oracle, but you first must give. Give freely of what Aule has shared with you. It will return to you in many ways."

[Lokktar]

Snak

As soon as the streams, that are called the Elivogs, had come so far from their source that the venomous yeast which flowed with them hardened, as does dross that runs from the fire, then it turned into ice. And when this ice stopped and flowed no more, then gathered over it the drizzling rain that arose from the venom and froze into rime, and one layer of ice was laid upon the other clear into Ginungagap. Then all that part of Ginungagap that turns toward the north was filled with thick and heavy ice and rime, and everywhere within were drizzling rains and gusts.
~ From the Younger Edda

Snak was sweating profusely. The cave was sweltering compared to the crisp mountain air outside. And there were dwarves behind her. Her thick neck hair stood on end like some hackley cur. She itched to turn around. The dwarf eyes trained on her backside were as heavy almost as the smoke. A current reached her and she could feel the chill of her sweat soaked cloths and face scarf. How long had the dwarf elder been sitting there like some sleeping halfwit? This was a mistake.

She did not know what sorcery was in the air. Her people burned many types of incense and intoxicating aromas. Orc shamans would lock themselves in holes in the ground inhaling toxit fumes for days in order to commune with the Spirit of Arda and the other dark things that dwelt deep in the world. She herself had shunned away from such practices. The drugs made the voice of Aule become too loud for her to bear.

Before long her eyes were watering and she could feel her throat closing up. Aule's voice was gone from this place but she could sense some other presence. Something dark and deep. Wholly dwarvish and ancient. The vision was seeping back into her wakefull vision.

She was on the verge of choking, on the verge of leaving, when the elder finally spoke. It was preceded by a deep nasty coughing fit.
She was never prepared for the sound of dwarf voices. She had learned enough of their slow tongue from prisoners. Usually she tortured it out of them. Their language was slow on her ears. As if their mountain fortresses protected them even from time itself.

At first Snak did not understand what the elder was asking of her. Her request was simple. Was it lost in translation? "Give freely of what Aule has shared with you."
She unslung her woven birch bark pack and rummaged through it. The elder obviously needed compensation for his services and she had come prepared. The dragon skin flask was full of curdled dragon mother's milk. In the weeks past she had come upon the brood near the top of the Heath. She had tracked the younglings like so many giant chickens crisscrossing across the scarred earth. The mother's own tracks were heavy and as chaotic as her brood's. A spear in the heart took care of the mother and she caught and killed however many of the hatchlings she could catch with her teeth and her shank. That night she had gorged herself on dragon milk and on the sweet fire roasted flesh of baby dragon. Better than ten thousands chickens.

As she pulled the flask from her pack the smoke started to take hold of her mind. Voices coming from the deepest parts of Arda. This was strong medicine.
"Elder," she said. "Aule's gifts are bountiful on the krags and in the high places of Arda. I am but a poor pilgrim. What Aule has gifted me is yours." She laid the flask at the elders feet. Under her sweat sodden robes the she felt cold. The cave was going dark and dim. She could taste the salt of her perspiration inside the heavy facecloth. The bile was coming to her throat.

Slowly, the her mind went back to that antipodal cliff overlooking the vastness of the Ginungagap, the void that exists past the edge of Arda. Overlooking the beast. She could not focus her eyes on the dwarf elder. Or on anything in that spinning cave.
She did not know what words she was saying or in what language they were in. Was she still capable of clipped dwarfish in this sickened state? She told the dwarf elder all about the edge of the northern world. How below her feet the Arda fell away into eternal void. And how Aule would spirit her away there from time to time to watch the beast asleep and dreaming of devouring the heaven and earth. And the most terrible parts when the beast started to stir.

This was a mistake. The dwarves were going to kill her here, she knew it. They cared not about the mad ramblings of a some dirty travelweary orc. Snak ripped her face scarf from her face. Bearing her orc features to the elder. Her yellowed fangs, her skin as pale as the birch trees with a hint of moss green. She could not breath. She made to stand up but couldn't. The smoke of this place made her limbs heavy as stone. She looked over her shoulder at the attendants. On her hands and knees, her elbows were trembling with the weight of her. She had her shank under so many layers of clothing. She wondered if she could kill at least one of them before they took her.

OOCNot necessarily looking for a fight btw. Snak's just paranoind.

[KingODuckingham]

NPC Nali, Oracle

The ancient dwarf made no move toward the flask when it was presented by the stranger. Objects and actions that did not accord with his visions did not seem to trouble his senses at all. It was difficult to tell whether his eyes were looking through Snak, or at her. It did not matter. He listened. Listened to her tale of far-distant lands, so distant they almost did not deserve the title of land, but perhaps the word void. He heard of her connection with Aule from her own mouth, and of the visions he had granted her. And this gorged the oracle, in a way that contents of flasks and food packs never could. He sighed in deep satisfaction, rasping.

"You have spoken well, child." the oracle said, completely ignoring her de-cloaking and posturing. One got the sense, stronger than ever, that his eyes were not perceiving her skin or body. The attendants had arisen and approached, but they settled back into place upon hearing Nali's voice. They trusted him implicitly, or they would not have this post.

"Aule truly has blessed you. I hope you understand this." the dwarf continued, slapping his own knee in a sudden fit of good humor. "Hahaghh" he brayed, lapsing back into coughing.

He stopped as suddenly as he had begun, his lids sinking down over most of his eyes.

"Sit back down." he ordered. "And tell me again. You wish to know how to find the road to the Ginungagap? Is that why you have come to me? Or is there something more?"

His eyes seemed to focus on her for the first time all meeting, waiting intently for her response.

[Balfur]

Balfur wipes the sweat from his forehead, while he rests on a rocky outcrop in the mountainside. The land surrounding him is barren and he supposes that it is all part of the journey. "To know yourself is to scale the sttepest cliff and fall in the deepest abyss," he quotes an old dwarf he once might have called 'father'. He reaches for his flask and cringes when he feels how light-weighted has already gotten. Why did he ever think this would be a good idea? The ice-cold spring water from his flacon refreshes him a bit, but he fights down the urge to drink it all in one go. At least he has been wise enough to not fill it with anything stronger: he would have surely lost his footing on this mountain-scaling trip. It seems that the road to knowledge is not an easy one.

After his heart has stopped racing like a barrel down a wild forest river and he is no longer foaming at the mouth from the rate his breathing was going, Balfur pushes himself back on his feet and starts climbing and crawling to his destination. Far above, it is said, the oracles lives. An oracle who can interpret one's dreams. And he has been having some of those, as of late. Still, he hopes they have a source of water there, because this area does not seem to yield many prospects.
Along the way he sees some familiar signs and settings that remind him of the last time he climbed these slopes. Back then, he also pursued knowledge, but thought he had found it along the way, when he encountered that father-like Kheled. It was that silver bearded dwarf who led him away from his home in Dwarrowdelf. Away from his clan, away from his family... A pang of regret climbs up along his spine, but he wills it back down. No use regretting the road taken. Besides, on this treacherous path he is going to need all the concentration he can get.

When he finally reaches the cave of the Elders, his worn and dusty clothes are torn and mostly ruined, and his body is covered in new scrapes and bruises. It is now rather late in the afternoon,whereas he set out early in the morning. The climb has taken him longer than anticipated. Yet he is content, even though his bare feet are bleeding from the small cuts caused by jagged rocks, he will finally get some answers.
He is surprised to find another person (Snak) in audience with the oracle (Nali). An orc, no less! For a moment, panic strikes him for a moment. Are there others nearby? Is this an attack? Yet, it seems not to be the case and that is all the better for him. He no longer carries a weapon and is at the present not in any condition to fight. But if he thinks about it, it does make sense that an orc would seek out an oracle. The latter basically has the former in its name! As he drinks the last drops of spring water, he sits down and waits for his turn. He cannot help but wonder, though, whether there are any orc oracles. He decides to meditate on that particular question.

[Lokktar]

The old Dwarf spoke once more and Snak fell back down to the floor. He spoke of a blessing from the All Father. He ordered her to sit and Snak pulled her feet underneath her thighs. She could sense another presence in the cave. Another dwarf (Balfur). The she-orc felt naked without her face covering and so she dipped her head. The old seer did not take her offering of curdled dragon's milk. Was it not enough? She had no treasure to offer him. Maybe he was too blind to notice it.

Snak listened closely to his dwarvish tongue. His voice seemed detached to her, and yet somehow calming. The oracle asked her about the Abyss called Ginungagap.

She felt foolish hearing it aloud with a clear head. Was it simply a child's fantasy? She was much to old to be chasing fairy tales. The orcs she grew up with were all settled down with little ones. They were eking out a living in this world of men in the foothills and the Northern valleys of the Anduin. Was it not too late to go back to her tribe? To abandon this Lunacy?

"It is as you say, old one. In my heart, Aule steers me ever Northward into the cursed Forochel. I wish to learn the road to Ginungagap. I wish to know how my journey will end. But tell me, old one, will this quest be the death of me? Is it not too late to rid myself of these visions?"

@Balfur oracle does have orc in it!

[KingODuckingham]

NPC Nali

The dwarf bowed his head again as he listened to the young orc's eager talk. She reeked of hidden energy, of enthusiasm he no longer possessed. He felt a twinge of envy. Oh, to be young again! But what would he do? Run off on some worldwide chase, as she wished to do? He coughed again, involuntarily. When she was done, he let the air thicken and hang. He had sensed another presence approaching. He waited for the attendants to move in from either side to intercept the newcomer. Each oracle's saying was only for one set of inquiring ears. When he was sure this would be the case, Nali said,

"You will know how your journey will end when you come to your end, child, worry not over such matters. It is so for all of us." he said brusquely. "To know the future is to know everything, and such is not given to the created of this world. Yet your question gives you an answer, in a way." He paused and looked up, gazing keenly at the hunched figure in front of him.

"Too late, you ask? You wish to know the end of your journey, yet you cannot even decide on the beginning? Of course it is not too late. If there is no beginning, there can be no end. You have the power to make it so. But do you want to? No oracle can answer this for you." He hacked, wretched. When he recovered, he continued,

"None of your questions are the right questions." He sighed heavily. "Will this quest be the death of you? Is life the death of you? Is the act of living slowly killing all of us? Enough with blank philosophical vanity. Say this: your time runs out at a fixed pace, but you know not the amount. Scarcity creates the value of your time. You may spend it how you wish. So, we return again to the thought: what do you wish to do?"

He stared hard at her, his face unforgiving and stern. But after a while he relaxed, and added,

"You must learn to ask the right questions, young one. I offer you another chance. Your questions are as short-sighted as your physical offering, nay, as short-sighted as I!" his laughter cracked hard enough he sounded as though he were choking. "Take back your offering. Ask again. Consider it a gift, since you come from Aule. One more question."

[Balfur]

Attendants come to silently lead him a little further away from the oracle. Balfur understands: one should have privacy when consulting with a seer. If the wrong ears hear the words of the Wise, the hearer may interpret them wrongly and many a catastrophe might follow. Or so someone has told him a long time ago. What kind of catastrophe could follow from me hearing the words spoken to an orc? The thought enters his consciousness for a moment, yet he lets it flow away. In Iglishmêk he signs to the closest attendant if there was some well around, where he could refill his flask. The climb has caused him to be not only thirsty for the knowledge of the Seer, but also for clear water. Maybe he should not have stopped by the tavern yesterday, after all.
Then again, he had not been able to enter into his old household yet. There lie too many memories to be uncovered and Balfur is afraid of how he might find them. Waiting to be called forth, either for water or for words with the Seer, the ash blonde dwarf sits down cross-legged; a good distance away from the cave's mouth and certainly out of earshot.
All there is to do now, is wait. He closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing. Slowly the world around him fades and he enters a state of calm. In his mind's eye a familiar figure appears. How? he wonders. How have you found me here?
The figure answers not, but sits down in front of him and stares silently. The dwarf's body shivers.

[Lokktar]

The other dwarf (Balfur) had left and Snak's shoulders relaxed slightly. One less dwarf meant one less threat in this strange place. She sheepishly reached for her flask and tucked it into her cloak. This was not what she expected. In the North an orc prophesy cost coin at least. Even so, the orc price seemed somehow cheaper than what this old dwarf was demanding.

Snak was filled with so much doubt. She doubted her every every decision. Right now she wished she had never come this far South. The journey down here and the journey back could have been better spent in the North hunting drake prey. Or hunting her destiny.

"What do you wish to do?" the old dwarf had said.

"I wish to seek Ginnungagap and the end of the world," Snak replied quietly. "Tell me seer. How may I find this mysterious place."

[KingODuckingham]

NPC Nali

"The choice is made." The dwarf's voice rang out much louder this time, a hint of depth behind it. Was someone else speaking along? The attendants all were tight-lipped.

"You must make for Treegarth of Orthanc [viewtopic.php?f=16&t=93 ]." the dwarf continued. "There you will not find the answers you seek, but you will find new questions. Now go." He dismissed the young goblin with nary a gesture, but merely a sinking of the posture and the closing of his eyes. He was suddenly breathing more heavily. It was clear he would accept no further questions.

The attendants came up to escort Snak out of the cave (tentatively), and to bring forward Balfur to state his own question to the Oracle.

[Lokktar]

Something about a new question and an "orthanc." Snak already struggled with the seer's old dwarfish. And the changes in tone and volume were jarring. Several dwarfs grabbed her by her sleeves and dragged her to her feet. She was reminded of her youth. Of being ungraciously escorted out of the grog houses when she had had too much. This journey was surely a mistake.

Outside of the cave, the mountain range was robbed of its usual sanctity. These were dwarf lands. Enemy territory. What drunken madness had brought her here? She wrapped the scarf around her face once more. This time for warmth. It would be a long trek into the night before she could make camp in peace.

Orcs are resilient. And her tribesfolk in particular were known for their prowess on the high places of the Arda. It was not long before Snak was high above where she knew any dwarf would venture. The night was bright with the moon. In the morning she would start the month long journey back up North. When her friends asked her about her journey south to the dwarf oracle she would joke and make light of her folly. Tomorrow the words of the oracle would weigh less on her. Tonight she slept in peace in the crags with the voice of Aule far away like distant thunder.

[Whackly]

Whackly was struggling. He had been climbing this mountain for what seemed like days. Head throbbing from ale and angry at being lost.

He was too drunk and proud to admit he was going the wrong way - even to himself - and there was some sort of light at the top of the mountain so it seemed like as good a direction as any.

He passed a strangely clothed creature (Snak) on their way back down the mountain. The covering over their face meant he couldn't really tell what race it was (also, Whackly vision was more than a little blurry) but the smell was so unsavoury that it could only be a minion of Mordor. Too tired to really care, he just spat in its general direction and continued up the mountain.

Finally cresting the ridge Whackly sees a cave entrance where the light was emanating from. In a hope of more Ale he quickly shuffled into the entrance. It was a smoky cave, the air so thick it would topple a lesser Dwarf. But through the haze, he quickly discerned there were no barrels of ale. He almost wept in dismay.

"All this way for nothing," he grumbled. "Where should I go now? What should I do next?"

At the back of the cave, he saw two figures. Two Dwarves, one of which was ancient. Perhaps he could provide some guidance.

[Drífa]

With her fur hood pulled tightly around her face, Drifa began her ascent up the Endless Stair towards a small cave. In this cave sat a few wise Dwarves of the Kagam Khazads Clan. These mystic Dwarves could see into the past, present and future. They could even look into the mist, or so she had heard. Although this was all a little above her head, she desperately needed some advice. So here she was, making the trek.

It was cold on the mountainside. Drifa was glad she had her fur hood. She could have used her fur-lined boots, too. Cold fingers and toes are one of the many curses of growing old.
"Move faster old girl," she chided herself. "Get the blood flowing to those cold parts."

As she picked up her pace, she thought about the reasons that drove her up the mountain. Since her return to Khazad-dûm, she had not met many Dwarves. The halls of the Ankixogs remained relatively quiet though reasonably dust-free. She was unsure how to move forward now that the hall was clean. As she pondered over this, she came by and by to the small cave entrance.

A Dwarf (Nali) sat peacefully near the front of the cave. He appeared to be somewhat bluish. She was unsure whether this was from the cold or the mystic mist that had somehow gotten into her eyes, yet he looked blue. Clearing her throat, she bowed low before him and said.

"Greetings! Drifa at your service! I have traveled up the Endless Stair this day, for I was told that you can give me some simple sage advice." Pausing for a mere moment, she hastily went on.

" I have finally cleaned all the dust from the Ankixogs' halls and settled nicely into some comfortable rooms. But the clan is lacking, ehm, Dwarves, you see. So I was thinking of erecting a tent, like the one of old before the fire, to maybe draw some Dwarves in.
I went to the tent makers, who showed me different canvas tents. Now, I am not sure if these tent-makers are trying to make an extra coin or are pulling the canvas over my eyes, so to speak, but they keep pushing this new costly material that they invented on me.
It is a canvas with a thousand facets; it shines like silver in the firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stars,' like, like,' throwing her hands up, Drifa exclaimed in disbelief, "like rain upon the dang Moon!? ' Bah!" Calming down with a deep breath, she continued.

"Anyhow, my question is, should I go with a this new fangled outrageous material or, stay with a simple pale, neutral, yellow beige with a green undertone, material? I do not want to appear gaudy, you know?"

[Lokktar]

Snak, free orc of the pine forests of Gundabad and the Ered Mithim

Snak wasn't going to wait in line. She was sure the dwarves wouldn't mind as long as it got her out of the cave quicker. She stalked past a line of penitent dwarves and dropped to the floor in front of Nali (@KingODuckingham), legs crossed and palms on her knees. She cocked and bobbed her head by way of greeting. She doubted the old dwarf remembered her. She had visited this place in seasons past when her mind was clouded by dark dreams and cloudy portents. Now, her resolve was like steel. She craved the blood of a god. But she knew not how to wet her hands.

"Wise dwarf," Snak intoned, pulling the cowls from her pale green face. "I crave knowledge. I crave blood. On the moonless nights the demon appears to me on the ridgelines, shrouded in the stars of some other sky. In my people's tongue he is called Cernunnos, father of the staggs. My elders tell me that no steel can slay him." Snak remembered the rules. She places a single thin coin, tarnished and ill gotten, between her and the wizened old dwarf. "I need his blood on my hands, but I know not how to make the kill."

Her head bowed, Snak rolled her eyes up hopefully glancing at the sage.

[Drífa]

The mist at the cave entrance had turned a thick pea soup blue, and Drifa could no longer make out the dwarf sitting there. She was now thinking that maybe there had never been a dwarf sitting there. "Bah", she snorted. That was nonsense. She had seen him with her own eyes. She concluded that he must have gone inside to hobnob with the other oracles about her dilemma regarding the tent canvas. And so she passed the time waiting for his return, doing jumping jacks and deep breathing. Having exhausted herself doing this, she sat on a rock, rolled snow into balls and made a snowball Mountain. Time passed. The Sun got higher in the sky and beamed down more intensely. The blue mist had disappeared, but the entrance remained empty. Lucky for Drifa, she had packed a good food supply for the journey. But this journey up the Mountainside had not been one she had imagined would be exceptionally long. Yet, it seemed like she had been up here for ages (hadn't KD passed into the Fourth Age?)

As she watched the snow melt and puddle around her snow Mountain, she decided. Gathering up her supplies and packing them away, she advanced towards the cave entrance. She called into the darkness beyond the opening.
"Hello! Is anyone in there?" she waited, counting ten heartbeats, then called again.
"Oi! Oracles! Are you in there?"
She waited even longer for a response than the first time, yet the entranceway remained silent. Hesitating for just a moment, considering whether she should or shouldn't, she stepped through the cave entrance and was swallowed up by the darkness inside.