The party hikes up a challenging incline for nearly an hour.
The trail quickly gets less well traveled from the spot where the dig team disappeared. There are now only a half dozen sets of footprints passing each way ahead of the party, made in light, fluffy snow about six inches deep. Some steep sections of the trail are practically sheets of ice under the snow, and everyone slips and stumbles at least once or twice.
The evergreen trees begin to thin out and the wind starts to bite again. The snow has mostly blown off of the uppermost tree branches, and every so often a new pile falls lightly to the ground with a soft swish.
Apart from the wind in the trees, it grows very quiet. The party can no longer hear the calls of the soldiers below.
About 40 minutes into their hour-long hike, the party hears the rough caw of crows cut through the silence. They catch glimpses through the trees of a few crows circling somewhere higher up on the mountain, but the birds seem unwilling to land.
In the lead, Alaina is the first to spot huge pawprints in the snow that cross the trail. The tracks look erratic; whatever made them didn’t walk with an even step or in a straight line.
It looks like whatever made the tracks was injured or unwell. There is some scraped snow where it clearly slid down part of the mountainside. This implies it passed from above, headed down. From where you are standing, you do not spot any blood.
When the party gets close to the tracks, Cel will line himself up with the scrape marks and see if it lines up with roughly where the crows are circling.
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Cel and anyone who watches the birds for more than a few minutes sees that their flight radius is fairly wide. The winding tracks are visible for about 60 feet above the trail before they're lost to view over a ridge. If the tracks continue on in the same direction, it looks like they would intersect with the wide area the crows are circling over. It's difficult to tell from the fleeting glimpses between the trees where exactly the center of that area would be.
Cel notices the dropoff point and goes to investigate that area to see if there is anything that may suggest someone fell from the edge.
Henri glances at the ground in front of her, the bright snow reflecting off of her mirrored goggles, concealing her eyes as she crouches at the trail, glancing in the direction it came from. She didn't know much about animals, but she could at least see that whatever made this thing was big. "We're pretty far away from the search team, yeah?" She asks in a quiet voice, but not a whisper. "Looks like it might be hurt. But something that could injure something this big..." She crudely measures the pawprints by spreading her arms apart. "Well, I should hope it's just another search party."
The elf glances at the party. "Think we should investigate? Could be something interesting to find. 'n if it was attacked by our ice drake..." She adjusts her hat, smiling, "Maybe we could get an idea of what it is."
Cel and anyone who approaches the edge of the steep slope sees that the tracks turn into a long skid mark in the snow with a lot of disturbed snow around it. It looks like whatever made the tracks slid unwillingly down the mountainside. Once the slope evens out about 70 feet down, the tracks continue on down the mountain until they're lost in the trees.
Cel notices from the steepness of the slope that if they investigated just the tracks they could see from the trail, it would take a long time to climb back up the slippery slope, even using a rope.
Henri measures the tracks to belong to something about eight or nine feet long, assuming it's a quadruped.
Dulae frowns. "If this creature was injured, why is there no blood? Other animal remains were found torn apart. Whatever made this was unwell or confused." She crouches down to examine the tracks.
The shape of the tracks reminds Dulae of a dire wolf. She can see that a significant amount of snow has drifted into the tracks in the direction of the wind, and it's blowing in at a very slow trickle. The creature probably passed by here last night if she had to guess.
Peering over the edge, Cel says to Henri's question, "I wouldn't have any trouble getting down there, but getting back up would be a problem. I'm not entirely sure any of us would be able to make it back up if we go down, and I'm at a pretty heavy advantage with getting down a grade like that without getting hurt. The rest of you may get really hurt. Maybe we should just check on it on the way back down?"
"Could be an interal injury. Maybe it fell?" He adds the last part with a tone of doubt.
Xizoh looks at Anathema for a moment, before saying,"I can send Anathema down to inspect. I'll bet he can climb up, and if not I can resummon him. It's up to you guys though.
"These look like Direwolf tracks from... last night maybe? Not easy beasts to take down, though I don't think we would have a problem working together. I doubt even a pack could take down a full patrol..."
Dulae glances over the edge and grimaces. I would rather not fall down that and die right now... "I think we should move on - we only have so much time left in daylight. And while it might provide clues as to what we are facing, it could be many miles away by now, and off the path."
"Hm," mutters Henri quietly, chewing on her thumbnail. "I think we can do it both ways - if the snake can slither down there, and just do a quick glance around, we can know if there's anything interesting, and maybe do a thorough examination on the way back, if we have time." Henri nodded, agreeing with herself. "But if it - he? Doesn't see anything, he can just climb or get teleported back up. Shouldn't take more than 5, maybe 10 minutes, yeah? We can afford that." She throws a small nod out, this time toward Xizoh, as if asking for confirmation on her imagined timeframe.
Alaina listened carefully to the options given. Study the situation and take what gives you the best advantage Her Father would say.
"I'm afraid I have to side with the Sergeant on this one. We don't really have the time and there's no telling what may delay us when we get to the map marker. I say we note this and press on."
Henri sighs and shrugs, crossing her arms. "Fine then, I won't go against the will of the party. What kind of mercenaries are ya, no sense of adventure." This last bit is said quietly, but with a small smile - she's at least partially joking.
"Adventure is all fun and games until someone gets eaten." Dulae deadpans back with a mirroring smile. "Though tomorrow when we have more time I wouldn't mind detours."
"Normally, I'd agree with you Blondie, but I really want a warm bed tonight for the long haul tomorrow." Alaina responded.
Cel finds his place at the back and continues actively looking for anything out of the ordinary.
Peering at the edge for a moment, Xizoh shakes his head before returning to his place behind Alaina.
The party hikes on for another forty-five minutes. As they finish rounding the next switchback, the tracks of the search party before them end. In the lead, Alaina and Xizoh deal with drifts as high as 2-3 feet in places as the party forges their own footing through the snow. The trail is still clear in the surrounding snow, sitting significantly lower than the banks of earth on either side.
The wind has shifted to blow down the mountain, carrying sharp gusts of fine snow that burn chafed skin. Ice starts to form on the edges of hoods and any uncovered hair, including in uncovered noses. Their breath billows in large clouds behind them as they walk.
Cel notices the cold getting a bit worse as they climb and calls out, "Hold on a second everyone!" A piece of wood pops out of his sleeve into his hand.
He walks up to each member of the group and pokes them in the face with the stick creating a small flash and a feeling that it's not quite as cold as it was a second ago. The snake, on the other hand, he doesn't poke in the face. He just touches him on the body for fear of being eaten. When he's finished he slides the wand back up into his sleeve and says, "Okay, onward!" and falls back into his place in the marching order.
Henri squints her eyes reflexively at the piece of wood in her face, fighting the instinct to smack the wand away. "Ow." She rubs the spot where the wood struck her, but immediately feels better, though she can still feel the stinging winds delivering weather, but no cold to her exposed face.
Henri sniffs and wipes snot away from her nose on the back of her rough gloves, before it can turn to frost.
Dulae pulls her hood tighter, trying to keep the biting wind out of her face. She nearly stumbles on the realization that any sane member of a patrol would do the same... and open themselves up to easy ambush. This is going to be cold... she thinks in resignation before turning her face directly into the wind.
She is startled near to jumping when, instead of a freezing blast, she receives a poke in the face and a flash to the eyes. Before she can complain though, she feels the wind's bite fade to nothing. She shoots Cel a smile and nods in thanks before turning her attention back to the mountain.
As the snow blasts him in the face, Xizoh remembers his earlier experiences with the snow. That didn't prepare him for the miserable frigid air that seemed to drain his very soul.
The sudden poke has him nearly swipe, but the relief from the cold has the half elf grinning. "Thanks Cel. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls a small stone, cut similar to a precious gem. Orbiting his head, the stone glows like a torch, seemingly unbothered by the snow.
For a moment, it's all Anathema can do to stay conscious. His size works against him, giving more area for the bitter cold to touch. As he starts to stoop over, he struggles to look at Xizoh. Don't die doctor.
The moment the wand brushes his scales he snaps up, hood extending out in anger at nearly passing out. Tempering his rage for a moment, he nods to Cel, respect and thanks in his eyes. Coiling into himself, he watches ahead with intense focus, ready to pounce.
Dulae and anyone paying closer attention to their surroundings now that the wind isn't biting as hard notices that the drop (now to the right of the trail as the party hikes forward) is no longer quite as steep.
The snow is very smooth in all directions, except their own tracks. The sky overhead is clear. They can still hear the cawing of crows over the wind.
Dulae spots the crows circling overhead again, but closer now. It looks like they're centered somewhere ahead on the trail.
The party hikes up the trail for another 15 minutes. At the top of the switchback, they reach a broad plateau in the side of the mountain. There is a shallow slope to the right of the trail as far as the party can see, and a steeper incline of roughly 20 degrees up the mountain to their left. The snow has piled up to about a foot and a half deep. The crows are circling high above them.
Through a clearing in the trees, Alaina, Xizoh, and Anathema notice a man in a brown uniform sitting in the snow on what could be a log in the shade of a tall pine tree. Based on Silo’s tracking map, he sits just about where the red dot should be. The party spots meandering footprints half-filled with drifting snow that lead from higher up the mountain to the log.
Dulae and Henri know that the brown of his uniform is the color worn by Altiendel archeologists.
The man slowly turns to look at the party. His eyes are dull, as if he can’t see well. His mouth falls slightly open as the party approaches, in what could be relief. He is wearing a heavy coat, but ice clings to his hair and eyebrows and his skin is grey as if it’s badly frostbitten.
Cel hangs back and finds a tree he can sort of hide behind in reference to the man.
After Cel starts to move away, Henri takes a couple of steps forward and off the trail, squinting and trying to make out more details about the man. When he turns his head, the elf raises a gloved hand and waves it back and forth for a moment, saying in a loud, brisk voice - "'hoy!?" It's part shout, part question. Her other hand rests on the grip of her pistol, sending waves of metal comfort up her arm. It always felt good to have a weapon in hand, and though she wouldn't be nervous normally, Cel's skittish behavior seemed to be rubbing off on her.
In response to Henri's call, he mans reaches out a shaking hand toward the party like he is asking for help.
Dulae's breath hitches at seeing the man. "Altien's mercy.... She takes a step forward before stopping, scowling. "Be wary. This doesn't feel right."
Her eyes scan the layout of the clearing, looking for signs of a trap. One gloved hand pulls out her holy symbol and she casts Detect Evil.
Seeing a sign of understanding, Henri rapidly approaches the man, lifting her feet high in order to get through the snow. "The guy's freezing, Sarge." She takes her hand off of her pistol to keep balance. "We need to help him fast, else he'll freeze to death, probably." She directs another shout to the man as she continues forward, "We're coming, don't worry!"
Trudging through the snow, Xizoh chases after Henri. As he gets closer he hold his hands up peacefully. "Don't worry. We'll get you fixed up and out of the cold."
Rifling through his satchel, the half elf appraises the man to see how badly his frostbite and other injuries are, as well if there's anything around him he can use to help the man.
Again, agreeing with the Sergeant, Alaina stuck close to Henri and Xizoh. In case trouble started.
Dulae senses a moderate aura of evil roughly where the man sits.
For the altitude on the mountain, the far south location, and the time of year, it seems reasonable it would be this cold (and significantly colder at night).
Xizoh thinks the tissue damage looks like acute necrosis or gangrene of the face and hands. Xizoh would not expect a patient to live through such extensive death of tissue.
Cel, Xizoh, Anathema, and Alaina have been watching the man intently for over a minute, and they notice they haven’t seen any fog of breath from him.
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The man slowly rises, mouth open. His dull eyes are wide open and fixed on Henri, the first to approach him. He seems at a loss for words.
He takes a shaky step forward toward her and extends a quivering arm. His fingers are outstretched and grasping in erratic spasms.
Cel lines up his hand, takes a deep breath in, and grits his teeth. This always hurts, but Henri's in trouble!
As the Blast leaves his finger tips Cel's cloths and hair begin to ripple as if he's caught in the middle of a very small, invisible tornado. Some of the snow at his feet kicks up in the wind around him.
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