Evil permeates the hill Svartrau is built upon. Evil older than you, older than me, older than any dwelling in the valley. And it digs.
Its movements are slow, yet deliberate, as if it had no eyes or sense of direction, yet it feels us and it’s coming for us. We are what it craves, we are its single goal. It digs.
When the moon is gone from the sky, when the night’s so dark you can't see the world, head to the hill and listen – place your ear to the ground, and hush. Do you hear it? The shuffling of the soil, the scratching on rocks?
If so, then run. Run and pray it wasn't too late already.
For, though it digs slowly now, its coming is inevitable. Best you can do is be ready. Always check. And never forget.