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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...
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The trees outside the light sphere groan from weight of snow and ice or wind or both.
No sound of life is heard. Animals have crossed through here. Deer hooves.
And something else followed.
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Narrhil looks to see if wolf prints or bear are in the snow...
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Narrhil moves west closer to the prints.
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'Wolf,' he thinks as he places his hand beside the print to judge its size. He looks north-west to make sure nothing his returning...
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Larger than a woods wolf.
And not with that dragged tail.
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Narrhil pondered if it was a 'giant,' creature; a winter wolf or mountain lion. He kept his wand ready and moved south to explore furthest house from the threat.
[Going to south-east house. It will be in the dark, so he will sling his axe and use an ice shard to illuminate his way].