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He understood that it was named Kharnath, and he had come across... them, at the monastery before, only, he had not acted as he would have liked. Nervous, no, outright scared of them would be a more honest way to put it. Yet, he had learned that the con- Kharnath was of special interest to the Sanctum of Dusk, a being that held some intrigue in the eyes of Captain Selene herself, and Masters Featherwind and Grimstone alike. Only Master Hawken of Dusk had voted against letting them into the Monastery, or so the rumors at the Knoll would have it.
"Hector, Kharnath," Eironmar called back from atop his dappled grey mare. "Remember, the reports we received stated that the caravan to Silvermorn was lost days ago, with our trek putting us another three days behind," a weighty silence spread between them, only disturbed by the clip-clop of their horses' hooves. "It is most like that we will not find survivors," he looked back at his two charges. "Our primary objective is to investigate, and find out what we can about the mysterious fog that was mentioned in the report." His eyes cast out across the rolling hills and the rocky outcrops that jutted out from the Spine's foothills, like so many scales on a slumbering titan.
"No survivors," Hector repeated in grim awe from atop his painted rouncey.
"Only a possibility, but one we must be prepared to face." he assured the young squire.
Kharnath