Location: The Glegnoegh Iboeg
As the party's route through the Glegnoegh Iboeg (Ibweg Mountains) takes them near to HräshHläng's early home and birthplace, the ettin decides to take a the party for a quick detour. As they near the mountainside, HräshHläng's excitement takes over and they race up the rocky slope to the cavern they once called home. At first they almost miss it, but then they notice the opening back to their left. They duck inside, suddenly realising that the last time they left the cave, almost five years ago, the opening extended far above their heads. The furs and grasses of his bedding have since been reduced to dirty fluff. Old barrels and crates have been broken and long ago been emptied. A few of their old tools litter the floor, looking startingly crude and primitive. A flash of memory crosses Hräsh's mind, and he glances over at the blank look on Hläng's face, wondering if he is thinking the same thoughts. The air tastes the same, and it sticks to the back of Hräsh's throat. He gently pushes on the nearby crate, and it tumbles to the ground; a small rodent scurries away to hide in a shadow. Hläng keeps looking around, as if looking for something he should take, maybe something they forgot in the cave five years ago. Five years ago when the sounds of battle in the valley shook them out of their numb life hiding in a cave, like the mouse in the corner. But there isn't anything. The sinking feeling that there's probably even less left for them in Dachoen that day starts making Hräsh feel dizzy. He rolls his shoulder, straightening their back, and their heads connect with the stony ceiling with a couple of klunks.
“Ow.”Hläng says, clapping his hand to his head.
“Now I know why they left this place.” Hräsh adds.
They turn and leave, rejoining the party on the hillside.
HräshHläng: Chris
