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. A dark bison-pelt robe
pulled tight around his shoulders shielded him from the
cold, only here and there exposing the color of the long
robe he wore beneath it - a robe that had once been ver-
milion, but whose hood, cape, and hems now were faded
to the red of twilight. The color blended, in the shadow
of his hood, with unkempt whiskers the gray of winter
wind.
In the ice pool was an image: two beings on a black
path where black cats prowled the edges and a black bird
beckoned above. The image wavered and misted as an
errant wind scattered hard, dry snow across the ice.
Without looking up, the man raised a long staff with a
crystal device at its peak. Sunlight glinted in the crystal
and concentrated through it to glow on the surface of the
ice. The misted surface smoothed itself, melted, and re-
froze bright and clear. The two in the valley were on the
move, following the bird. Like a deadly honor guard,
great black cats plodded along both sides of the pathway,
flanking them.
The image shifted then. In the ice was a great, vaulted
chamber hewn from living stone. Dim and deserted, the
chamber contained various structures and articles, larg-
est of which was a great dais upon which rested a crypt.
Here and there on the shadowed walls hung paintings, all
done in the finest dwarven style
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