A Howling Homecoming
The high mountains of the Taken Lands were in deep winter and not being subtle about it. The rocky cliffs were covered in biting cold, even before being raked by packs of ravenous winds. Living things of any intelligence had hunkered down into any shelter that the stone provided. For miles nothing could be seen moving in any direction expect the dark forms of two men. Even the dirt on the men looked tired and worn as they methodically descended the cliff. Each descended on their own rope belaying down from the higher mountains of the Mirandu and down into the highlands. Their stomachs growled loudly as their boots skittled over ice and rock. Occasionally, loose rocks flew and one would bark a warning to the other but generally they worked in silence, their movements the smooth and panther like motions of the practiced professional,. The first down might generously be called of medium build but he was smaller. Beneath a dirty cap burst white blonde hair, his ice blue eyes i
