“… we’re going after the Wargs,” Erika said firmly. “They will come back, and in greater numbers, knowing we are here… and there’s the chance their lair is outside this… cavern, maybe they have a tunnel we can use to escape?”

A few anxious looks were exchanged but Erika didn’t care, standing up to her full (unimpressive) height she cut her hand through the air. “I will lead our best in the assault, we’ll kill the lot of them and take any food they have, that will solve supplies and defence all in one… after that we can see if the others find us or if we find a door…. Understood?!”

That seemed to do it, the promise of personal vitki backup and a call to action got the others onboard, a few thumps of agreement and soon the others were leaving, jumping down from the back of Erika’s caravan, into the pool or warmth and torchlight that the defences had created, gathering men and supplies.

Erika closed the door gingerly, then fell on her bed and screamed, this wasn't what she’d wanted… the expedition was broken apart, she was only a 2nd circle leading a whole chunk of it, her girlfriend was missing and now she was tramping off into the darkness to hunt Wargs who knew they were coming.

A few moments went by before Erika pulled herself upright, wiping her face she snarled and let Odium flow, the burning in her veins sharpened her mind and shook her thoughts clear. She didn’t want to be here but she was! She didn’t want to be in charge but she was! She was not going to fail again.

Erika padded through the darkness, her cloak of office draped over her gangly form, obscuring her movements as much as it could. Half crouched she followed at the rear as the rangers and veterans, led by Bjorn the veteran ranger of course, flitted to-and-fro through the darkness. Despite the unseen danger, the crackling frost, and the unfamiliar terrain they moved like phantoms soundless and sure, Erika just tried to keep up and not give them away.

The air was cold and still, but warmer than the Fimbulwinter even with the runes blazing, the only scent was the strange sharp smell of coldness undercut by the fading smell of fire from their camp, the thin frost snapped under each footstep and the darkness seemed as thick as mist in the lungs, each breath like a cold drink.

Beyond the firelight the shadow pooled like ink, when she first arrived Erika had thought she could see the size of this strange room in the torchlight, she had been wrong. The caravans had arrived next to a wall, the other four however? Those were lost in the darkness, swallowed by the black and the distance. Erika wasn’t even sure if it was a room anymore, or if they were walking through some vast and trackless cavern that a mad mason had been imprisoned in, wasting away as he planed and smoothed the living stone. Above them Erika could just faintly make out a distant ceiling which stretched out just as infinitely and unmarked as the floor, except for the runes, small clusters of runes she could barely see in the murk, they looked like light runes Erika thought but they were so old, so ancient, that the stone they were carved into must have crumbled and twisted with the passage of untold years until the shape of the runes changed enough that they became nothing more than fancy engravings, dull and dark and forgotten.

Erika heard a faint whistling from up ahead, a soft repeated tone that nonetheless carried far in the still air. Next to her a ranger that Bjorn had sent to watch over her (and whose name she hadn't gotten) frowned and leant close to Erika’s ear. “That means they found something, something important to since they didn’t just come back but risked a call, step where I step ok lady vitki? We’re going to hurry.”