|Douglas Muir 406|
Zoren looks around nervously. It's been a roller coaster ride, these last couple of years, but more good than bad. Two years ago he was a washed-up drunk, a petty criminal barely making ends meet running the third-best magic shop in a hardscrabble border city. Since then, things have swung from "rolling in cash" to "bystander to mass murder" to "desperate last minute escape" to "living like a king".
And now he's freezing his ass off at the absolute end of the world, and, oh gods and painted toenails, that cairn thing looks bad. You can just feel the menace oozing off of it. Zoren would really rather be somewhere, anywhere else.
But it's win or die at this point, and the road to win -- he's told -- goes through that dark, cold door. Zoren shivers, pulls up his collar, and moves forward.