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The wind high on the mountain whistled through the crags, swept across the sparse vegetation and found its way in through any slight gaps in clothing to chill the people within. Over two hundred mountainfolk were gathered on the bleak mountain slope, from every firesite in the foothills. Word had gone out and even the trappers, usually a solitary breed, had joined them, all wanting to make sure that, if they were at all related to Hail, they would be cleansed of the curse. The black sky above them was littered with stars but few had any thought to admire them. They were used to such sights and their attention was dominated by two figures seated a little apart, who were staring at each other and gesticulating but making no sound. One was their acknowledged liege lord, long black hair fa
