In the far north, where the icy mountains are reflected in the crystal clear waters of the fjord, the village of Thorgard was bustling with life. Children ran between the smoky huts, and dragon boats were tied up on the shore, preparing to set sail. Amidst the bustle, three friends stood out: Ingrid, who always had pockets full of trinkets, Erik, the blacksmith's son, strong as a small bear, and Liv, who knew all the stories of the elders. The turn-of-winter festival was just underway, when the children would sneak out into the forest to look for treasures hidden under the snow. That day, Ingrid found something strange: an old horn with runes, partially covered in moss just inside the entrance to a rocky cave. It was heavy and cold, and the runes shimmered silvery, even though the sun had already set. - Look! - cried Ingrid, showing the find to her friends. - I think it's something very old! Liv leaned over the runes, trying to decipher them. - 'I know some of these signs from old stories. They speak of... about something hidden deep underground. Erik, always eager for adventure, was already lighting a torch. - Let's go to the cave! Maybe we'll find more there! Already from the entrance, the cave seemed strange. Echoes echoed off the walls, and somewhere in the depths a quiet murmur could be heard. As they entered further, they felt a sort of trembling of the ground under their feet. Suddenly Ingrid, walking ahead, stopped abruptly. - Look! - She whispered, pointing ahead. On the cave wall, just around a sharp bend, something moved. A strange shadow shimmered in the twilight, and a huge outline emerged from the depths.... Was it a dragon, or just an old statue? The friends exchanged surprised glances. Suddenly, a quiet murmur cut the silence and two yellow blinds flashed in the darkness....