The cold of the vortex did not end at its end. The world into which we had ventured was much colder than our own. It was also considerably damper. Overlaying this scent of mildew and cold earth was a smell of rot and decay. Sigarin's proclamation seemed to be holding true, for in the time immediately following our exit, we saw little living or undead. Yet the presence of decay suggested that there were dead somewhere. For dead to fall, there must have been life. "Perhaps," Sigarin said neutrally. "Indeed?" Xander said, seemingly intrigued but also unimpressed.