The dune indeed stood where the orc said it had, looming over its little bit of the desert as it watched, sentry-like. As Lucille descended, the maddening whisper of spirits danced into her ear canal. At first, a lone ballerina strutting her stuff, but it grew and grew, practically a crowd of square dancers stomping away as she neared the mound of sand that had so many 'men' quaking in their desert slippers.