Another week past their encounter with the accursed ship of the demon cult saw a small, dark island appear on the horizon. According to all the charts, it had to be Thorndjupr.
The sense of gloom hanging over the island only grew more intense as they approached. It wasn’t just that the trees were black pine: it was almost as though the color had been leeched from the world around that island. There was hardly a cloud in the sky, but it was grey and so was the water below.
At the very least, Einarr thought, they weren’t going to have to scale any cliffs – at least, not immediately. As they approached, the surface of the island looked to be as smooth as a hilltop on the plains save for one tall pillar of a mountain in the very center. It was as though a giant had stood still…
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