Settings Drawn from the Deep Recesses

A neat stone wall, almost man height surrounding untended gravestones. In the centre a larger monument stands proudly but many other markers tllt this way or that. The graveyard lies at a crossroads near to a rocky escarpment. The hills are brown and windswept with small twisted trees and areas of exposed rocks. Like bones showing through decaying flesh in the full moon's light. Nothing is moving. Nothing that can be seen.

A flat raised circle of lush grass rises through the dense broadleaf forest. The rising sun will soon rise between two carved stones, Two circles of stones sit within the space. Thirteen stones in the inner ring, more in the outer ring. Grass, stones and forest are still shades of grey in the half-light.

A settlement of black-timbered houses are splashed with sunset red reflected from the snowy peaks around it. No church or castle is evident but a single temple rises up in the middle of the town. And at it's summit is an altar and towering over that is the image of a wolf-god it's head still crowned in gold. A chill wind blows through the empty streets, stirring up the ochre leaves.

After using his talents to seek out a few images from the mind of the cultist, the magister of the Loyal Aurdun of Fyhar Gora slumped forwards exhausted. The resistance of the dark disciple had been formidable.