He takes the poultice and gingerly applies it to his damaged face.
"Let us get inside before the winds begin anew and freeze us where we stand."

The pair are long left.

"Those men were sent by the witch of the wood, as most are. They made a misstep, as you nearly did.
My name is Auziwan and I am left to protect this place."

Turok knows the two as the long overdue scouts. Both have been suffocated to death by their own swollen tongues.

The old man braces agains the harsh cold blowing in through the doorway. "Your two naked men won't last near another minute in this wretched wind as they are. We either hurry after them or leave them to perish..."

He meets Turok's gaze, sizing up the medicine man.

"It's a waste of time, they are surely succumb to the cold. Instead let us off to the warmth and safety of a place that the witch cannot spy. There you can rest."

Auziwan bends at the bodies of scouts and flips one over to better remove the sling of its satchel. "You best get his. Commodities are scarce this deep into Nightfall. Crops are dead and game stays out of sight. We'll need everything. Nothing to waste."

"A chamber long ago abandoned by the beastmen, after she gave them the gift of speech. So forgotten - The one place they would never think to search. We will be safe there."

Auzi straps the dead scouts small pack across his back, and motions for the door.

"Come we must be quick. Her spies surround us."

[TUROK +1000 XP] 

Auzi grabs his own dropped bag and withdraws two fresh torches, tossing one to Turok. He ignites some tinder and sets his afire before applying the flame to Turok's. "We'll need to move quickly. A storm comes, of her making."
Auzi steps out onto the porch. Turok feels the immediately rush of bitter wind against his face. The old man is right, a storm is here. Hard pellets of ice hit the ground around them. Twenty yards on lie the frozen bodies of the mutes. Auzi looks back at the Shaman, then steps over the broken step and out into the open.
He pushes against the wind, headed west to the boundry of the magical sphere of light. He pauses at its edge, looking back again once more at Turok, then slips ahead into the darkness beyond.


 

The gusts whip at the torches and their light is nearly meaningless.
Turok struggles to keep up with Auzi and quickly falls further and further behind the old man's whipping torchlight, the ice and snow getting deeper at his feet as he goes.
After what feels like hours, but must be minutes only, he loses Auzi's torchlight completely.
Only the blur of the blinding snow blowing against him now. Trees on both sides press in.
He can hear the nearby rush of water over the wind.