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On the wind-carved ridge, a snowbound road climbs toward the pass as auroras drift across the night sky. Locals say the north wind calls elven patrols to these woods; hidden among bare branches and snow-cast shadows, they guard the lone path into Vindrael, judging whether each traveller is merely lost—or a threat.
Where the forest meets the mountains, a lone cabin glows with a steady fire. Known as the last mortal lantern, it marks the threshold beyond which lie elven realms and ancient storms. Its campfire and dim windows offer one final moment of warmth before travellers step into the inner circle of Vindrael.
Deeper in the valley, the forest reveals a hidden riverside garden lit by soft shafts of light. Known as a sacred elven site, it protects the life of the Vindrael mountains and gently guides lost travellers back to their path.
In Vindrael’s southern valley, a leaf-covered forest path winds through gentle hills as tall conifers sway and sunlight sweeps across the slopes. This quiet stretch is seen as a shared threshold between mortals and elves—a place of safety before winter and storms close in.
At dusk, Vindrael’s central peak glows with an orange-gold halo as the setting sun ignites its remaining snow.
Elven lore says that when the summit is fully wrapped in this light, wind spirits appear between ridge and cloud, guiding the lost and reminding travellers to respect the mountain’s power.
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