Spring finally came, and despite the area where they were residing was in Arden's view the most profitable to gather the newly born blossoms, they decided to move northern of Vallaki to explore new areas, and to improve against their main foes. Arden felt happy, he saw Storm improving day by day, she spoke less and less of her fears and it seemed they had found a sort of balance. It all started with their wolves, Dom and Monja, before of them with all the others who had joined their pack, Saber, Riva, Raven.
Riva was there laying, half-drained. The exploration for her, alone, had not been rewarding. Storm and Arden used all their swiftness, their deadly blows, in a macabre dance with the vampires, the vampires falling down their feet. They exhulted and soon they had to take care of Riva's body. It was heavy, the young priestess did not move, the two rangers had switches in carrying her. Luckily for them they met the elf Aduial, who had helped in the past also Saber. She was there, again, alive, in that sort of miracle only priests could do. Yet both Arden and Storm shared their thoughts about religion: they were not against its power, but the political use the priests tried always to have on others in the name of the faith. No sermon followed, they went to rest to the nearby lodge.
The pack was curious as a cat, they found a secret passage. And wolves against the wolves they fought their way out of that place which smelled of death. At first Arden thought they had been kidnapped by Mists who knows where. After the many hours of fighting they were reached by Dom, and eventually by Monja. They were not far from the lake, they were probably below it, somehow. The wolves tried to kill them. The pack was simply stronger. The strength of a pack.
The following days kept on calmer. Arden kept on working with his varnishes which were revaling very useful in their explorations. And then the earthquake and the smell of rotten. A bad omen. He needed to find Storm...