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A blizzard thrust snow through the air upon the Misty Mountains, the whistling was harsh and the gust of the wind was like a blast upon any who sought to oppose it’s natural power. “Therwen! Where are you?
When dawn had come the men and woman of The Mead Company had risen and began their search for the Beorning Mead which they had come to the Misty Mountains in search of. Through cold snow the marched and whilst the morning was still young they had found some wooden wreckage held up in the snow near a frozen lake. They began to dig with their bare hands but they found naught but a corpse. It was then when they had decided to call a vote, to go on in search of their mead or turn back.
The Mead Company braves a vicious storm at the edge of a cliff, they stop to behold a grim totem, a bad omen it truly was for the event that followed was both grim and horrifying.
The company has a council of whither to go next: Did the dare what they deemed the very gates of hell itself, Rivendell? Or had they taken another route to their destination upon the Misty Mountains?