Birds sang in chorus and the wind danced through the forest with the melody of the birds.
The atmosphere was quiet and warm, relaxing. The emotions of the two groups had fluctuated quite a bit as they had traveled, but the most splendid part had to be the place where they would make their oaths.
Nestled in between two of the largest pine trees Lord Throin had ever seen, a small stage stood out, a statue of a man holding a two-handed greatsword before him as he stood regally draped in the winter clothes and armor of the House of Snow just behind.
A long pathway leading towards the small stage was erected, but no carpet or anything of the sort was laid out. Only a simple, dirt path that was almost beautifully cleared led towards the stage that was draped in flowers of the mountains.
