Conal looked up from his notes as he felt a damp chill on his skin, instinctively looking towards the sky for rain. The sky was overcast, but he could just make out the dim glow of the sun setting in the west. "Can't be that time already?" he muttered, checking his watch. "Hmm .. guess it is." He started to head back to where his car was parked, cutting between the mounds to save a little time.<br/><br/>As he walked back, the mist around him grew thicker, and he frowned as his visibility grew less and less, till he could barely see a handfull of meters with any clarity. "Oh, give me a break." he said, frowning, as the surrounding mounds seemed to vanish. He walked towards the last place he was fairly sure he'd seen one, and fetched up against the grass covered earth. We walked around it til he found the entrance, looking it over, matching it the ones he knew. "Mound of the Hostages." he murmured, the mist seeming to swallow his words, and he shivered involuntarily at a sudden chill gust of wind.<br/><br/>He frowned, turning towards the mound. It felt like the wind had come from there, but the mound should have blocked it. He gave his head a shake and turned away, trying to get his bearings for the next one. He paused, looking around ... there was a faint sound .. raised voices? He hefted the stick in his hand, setting his backpack on more firmly. "Local kids?" he murmured. "No doesn't sound like ..." he let the words trail off.<br/><br/>From behind him came a gust of freezing wind, and he spun to face what looked like a tunnel in the mist. He barely had time to take this in before he realised there were a pair of figures coming charging out of it, and straight into him, the three of them going down in a pile of thrashing limbs.