A mix of adrenaline and the magic running through his veins seemed to blur his surroundings. Up ahead through his tunneled vision he could see another stone marker. His bare feet pounded against the soil as it drew closer, specks of light were falling like a brisk snow before his eyes flashed with pale green once again. The dewy scent returned along with the sight of lush vegetation. In front of him a womans hand rose out of long satin green sleeves, thin and pale in comparison to his own. Hovering above the palm a white ball of light shined before jolting toward the rune-marked obelisk. He watched a shadow extend along the dirt floor to his right before the vision he was having ceased in a flash.
As his sight returned he could see a large tree lay fallen before him. His balance wavered with sloppy steps as he barely had time to traverse the dead wood. Awkid was only feet behind, trailing the hobbit to wherever it was he was going. He saw the marker pass him but the cloudy sky hid its shadow. The young mapmaker quickly cut right and Awkid followed after almost losing his footing. One of the tar covered beasts slid and slammed against the trunk of a tree but it was quick to recover. The other turned with ease and started to gain ground over the dwarf. Balamor and Awkid could both hear the heavy panting behind them growing louder with each step. Suddenly the hobbit tripped and crashed to the ground holding the rune to his chest. Awkid ditched the torch behind him before yanking up the hobbit by his ragged robes. The woods were now jarring with the sound of hungry wolves. The Wisebeard quickly surpassed the dwarf when they both could see something in the distance. Through the remaining trees the gray surface of large ground stones became more and more frequent. Before the young hobbit could behold the entire sight his vision quickly changed.
Plants now whipped past him and the wind whistled in his ears. The stone beneath his feet was numbingly cold as he finally broke through the thick brush. Ahead massive walls and structures of dark stone were crumbled and eroding along the edge of a sheer cliff. Stretching from the edge was a narrow bridge hanging with moss and vines. Segmented with beautiful lancets the ancient bridge spanned hundreds of feet far across a pitch black chasm. The hobbit felt himself drawn closer when he could make out the flickering light of some glassy barrier. Halfway across was an enormous dome of some magic encompassing everything beyond. The wind was whirling when the sound of Awkid’s voice finally broke through,
“Balamor no! The Bounds of Akinn, you cannot cross!