Nobody stops them, but once they’re out the door, it’ll be shut firmly behind them once more, as though to bar further entry. The stout fellow guarding the entrance won’t meet their eyes, muttering a prayer or a curse under his breath until they head out.

The visibility is, unsurprisingly, poor. Fires set up by Defenders and those who have taken a more proactive stance toward warding entrances against possible intrusion provide beacons of light, small pockets of deceptively safe space. The rest of the place, well, it’s all the same impenetrable darkness.

Impenetrable to the eye, at least. There is plenty to pick up on that isn’t visible. Out here, without the walls to dampen them, sounds seem closer to the ear. Ellie’s companion (“Jurgen,” is what he introduces himself at some point, eyes damp with emotion as he thanks Ellie for coming with him) picks up speed as they move on, head turning left and right as though trying to listen for a sound only he can hear.

“I ...” he licks his lips, swallows shakily. “I know she was supposed to guard that outpost.” He points a mittened hand at a bonfire that seems an impossible distance away — it’s really not that many paces away, but the emptiness yawns wide in between.

A body skitters at the edge of their circle of light.