They were at the head of a long valley which swept down to a long ribbon lake that traced the shape of the valley floor. The autumn colours ran down the hills like a wave of tarnished copper and the rain in the distance spread across the vista like silvered voile in a window at dusk. After the long paths in the grey, cold austerity of the mountain tops the sight was most welcome. They descended the incline and the upland scrub and scree slopes gave way to Birch and Rowan trees and then finally to rich alluvial farmland. Here at least they might find supplies and warm beds for the night. Asthralain knew these folk well and though they were indomitable and hard they would show no quarter to the enemy. For tonight at least Asthralain would find peace.