Dusk was descending over the Blacktooth Mountains when the column emerged from the suffocating shadows of Dead Man's Gorge. A freezing alpine gale howled down from the snow-capped summits, carrying stinging sleet and dropping the temperature well below freezing. The horses were exhausted, their flanks trembling with fatigue, and two of Kenneth's dragoons were nursing broken collarbones sustained during the rockfall. Mira pointed her finger toward a colossal natural fissure…
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