The next morning, Henry and his army, along with a dozen dwarves, including the five elders, made their way along a narrow mountain path. The wind howled around them, biting at their faces and threatening to sweep them off the edge as they marched in a long line. The path had been carved by the dwarves themselves over the centuries, designed for their build and size, offering the humans little room for error. Each step had to be taken with caution, their feet carefully placed on the snowy, rocky trail.
Yngvi, leading the way, pointed ahead. "This way, descendant. We're almost there" - he said, keeping his voice low as they moved forward -"We'll soon be able to spot 'em."
