The party approached the hill on an oddly clear night. There were stars in the sky, the moon glistened, and a light breeze in the air compared to the full force winds that usually resided in the village. Some of the townspeople began to feel a little warm and sweaty in their overclothes. A grey hedgerow was planted either side of the path, and a couple of the villagers decided that this would be a suitable place to lie underneath and create a defensive retreat position in the event of an ambush. They armed their crossbows and placed themselves underneath the soft, fur-like foliage. The others creeped cautiously towards the huge wooden door. As they reached the peak of the hill, the slope began to disappear out of sight. One of the villagers pressed his ear to the wood and recoiled in horror. He thought he heard screaming, but when he released his face from the door, all was silent.
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