User blog comment:SCORNFUL1/Audience With A Vampire: Ask Armata De'Sange/@comment-28358106-20171226071958/@comment-28358106-20180102023243

There is a half pause as Adelaide's eyes continue to look beyond, back to the day of Deidre's procession. She doesn't mention the contingent of Elves that rode before the column, silent sentinels in their silver armor and atop their white mares, making way for the daughter of the Dwarven King. She doesn't mention the Harpies that circled above, in the wide collar of clouds that Leontyne had made to hold back the storm as they sang their unending songs, a chorus to ease the hearts of the Dwarves. She doesn't mention when, after they arrived within the deepest roads of Hrungnir, as Deidre's casket was given to the eternal cairn, looking over and watching Thomas, and the great tears that streamed down his face as he watched his friend lowered into the darkness, disappearing beyond the reach of the torchlight.

"I do not know," she says. Her eyes move back to him.

"Very few do.  The royal cairn of the Dwarves lies deep within a shaft of the earth, its entrance hidden to all but those who know how to open it.  It is a maze of stone, with tomb doors sealed by the old magics that the Dwarves have had since the oldest days.  Like many others, I watched her sent down the shaft to the cairn, but where she lies beyond is unknown but to a precious few."

She pauses. "Why do you ask?"