The bitter cold of night clung to me and I watched as the mountain gate was cast open. I could not help but feel a sense of foreboding at this... the loyalists beyond. The outcast were outcast precisely because they clung to tradition. We could make no friends by inviting them in, least of all among those we were letting back in. Yet I had come to trust the wisdom of the king. The Drakel beyond the mountain gate would be allowed to return. Then, however, I heard it: the chilling sound of wings. Something was coming from the other direction, coming quickly, and the K'eld was without its walls.