Orien makes her way through the undergrowth to the place she remembers from when she first met Tiero. "Don't worry," he'd whispered, "I know another way in!" He had waved away her protest and promised to show her the wyrbeasts. She'd followed him through the trees surrounding the base of the spire, a kind of dark green tunnel. It is still there, smaller than she remembers, but passable. She hesitates, a more recent memory surfacing - that of her uncle telling her to be in time for Taar Shiraya that evening. Then, scowling, she presses on, clutching the traveller's hat and stick.