old and snowly, the high mountain forests of Gar - Og - Nedrak. Ice covered pines and fur-trees and cold grey sky... The frost chills you to your bones, when you travel through the forest to the Drasnian border. Yet another ten miles... But the sun is down, and twilight covers the earth. Wufff, now it is time to make camp. But... what is that? In the slope of the hill in front of you, you see a hole, and walk over to it. Taking into you right hand your cold sword and into your left a burning torch, you enter the cave. Wonderful! No tracks, no snow... Several wood blocks lie near the wall. You make camp, light a fire and cook something to eat. But what is that? You hear a "Wowwww!" coming from outside the cave. Where is my sword... take torch and... In front of you in the entrance of cave stands an old kind looking man, and you smile.
"Who are you, sir?"
"Well, you know me, don't you?
"Belgarath? Really?!!"
"What a clever boy! However, please, give me some supper!"
"Take it, your Lightness"
"Stop this"
"Yes, your Lightness"
"You are incorrigible!"
"Hrummm... good supper. Thanks. And you probably want to hear some stories, don't you?
"Yes!!"
"So, far far away from here on the misty island of Riva..."
You sit in front of the fire and listen to old Belgarath. Outside the cave are a frosty night and cold moon, but in here - it's nice and warm...

‡ Land-of-Immortals ::: epicus fantasy digital art project © 2001/2002 ‡
† created by Anton “Eriol” Sergeev © and counted by toplist, rambler †