“We’ll help you,” Barlo said. “But we should wait for sunrise. We can’t go blundering around in the dark.”
“But they need our help! Please, we must look for them now.” Sefu grabbed Barlo’s arm.
Barlo yelped, pulling his arm away. “You’re freezing! I can feel it through my mail shirt.” He looked Sefu up and down, and frowned. “Why are you so pale? Are you all right?”
Iarion drew back with a startled hiss. “Drakhal!”
Sefu grinned, revealing a gleaming set of fangs.
“Uh, Iarion?” Barlo said as he backed away. “What’s a drakhal?” He may not recognize the Elvish word, but it chilled him. Sefu stepped toward him, drawing his spear.
“Something that shouldn’t be here,” Iarion said in a bleak voice. He circled around Sefu with his knife poised and ready.
“Well that clears everything right up
