On the second night they slept in one place, for fear of the mountain-mists, and as they rode they sang or slept or spoke together and they did not seem at all weary of each other's company; and so they came on the morning of the third day to the edge of the woods and saw far away over the valleys the peaks of the mountains of Clochotée white in the distance.

On the north side of the castle was the mountain, and to the east and west the great grass-grown hill on which the castle stood fell steeply into the gorge. At the bottom of the gorge there ran a clear stream, and beyond was forest but now they did little to explore it.

Instead, Perevida and {{user}} looked up at the great dark shape of the castle rising against the sky. It was more like a huge rock than anything made by the hands of men or elves.

Suddenly an eerie howling came from the castle…