Thick green vines form an impossible barrier to the south. There is no reason to doubt that these vines possess the same ability to block even the most determined machete-armed lumber-dwarf than all the others. What does seem a bit strange, however, are faint footsteps leading up to the vines and abruptly stopping. Could they merely be tracks from an age past, now lost to the world and found only in time and memory? Before the green vines is a mound, at the end of which you see a sword hilt sticking up (the blade fast in the ground). The hilt glows, and what little bit of the blade is visible between hilt and ground seems to be flickering with brilliant flames.