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His pick parts snow down the rope until it reveals suddenly frozen blackened hands and feet, bound wrist to ankle.
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Narrhil moves back in surprise, but clamps his teeth together and commences to dig around the side of this victim. Still, ever cautious he keeps a distance, 'no need for it to have advantage if it turns into a zombie!'
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At the distance, he uncovers the unclothed torso of a man.
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As a man of ice and snow, Narrhil tries to discern how old the corpse is; and see if it had been tortured or just left to die in the cold.
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Narrhil is looking at the right side ribcage of a man. Open lacerations are visible.
Best guess only this much revealed, coupled with frostbite on those hands/feet...within the last 6 months.
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'No more than half a year ago,' he surmises, a little concerned. Narrhil moves further west into his new light sphere. Close to the centre of the spell's illumination he treks; so he could get a proper view around him. He stands waiting for a few heartbeats, his left hand gripping his wand of freezing and the other his battle axe.
He waits patiently in case something wishes to attack, using himself a bait...