Being that time seemed to hold no sway over this accursed land, I knew not how long the snow blindness had taken my sight. I felt the sudden blizzard that had washed over the encompassing wilderness to the eerie city at its center. Then blackness sucked me into its embrace..... ....I awoke after what seemed an eternity. I could tell that the storm had subsided through senses other than my deluged eyes. I could hear that the wind had died down and felt the temperature slowly rise back to tolerable levels. Before my sight had completely returned I began to hear something I didn’t think was possible. I didn’t want to believe anything capable of threatening the most holy resting place, but the low slow repeating gooooong.....gooooong......gooooong were unmistakable. As my eyes focused, my knees grew weak as I looked back toward the ringing of the huge bell atop the Temple of Bernthal, where my friend and the High Prophet of Bernthal, God of the Supreme Molasses Cookie. Haste quickened my actions as I looked around the surrounding area for my hammer and Molasses Cookie emblazoned shield. My Holy Cookie scapular was still around my neck, part of its enchantment that it wouldn’t come off unless I willed it, conscious or otherwise. As the Dwarf hurriedly gathers his gear, his wrists begin throbbing. Mysterious wounds he’d acquired many years ago when on a mission to raise his friend from the dead had begun to bleed again after he believed they’d scarred over. He wasn’t sure how he’d reopened those wounds, but he didn’t have time to investigate or properly bind his wrists because from his vantage point he saw green magical flames spout from all sides of the Temple! He still had a long run back to the Temple and seemingly no time left to get there. He began his run back to the Temple paying no heed to the drip....drip....drip of blood coming from two holes and a crescent slit in both wrists.... [spoiler]Sorry I’m late to this, if something doesn’t mesh well let me know[/spoiler]