Kascar the hunter was broken from his pondering by a sudden clamor that echoed off the cliffs and slopes, a ghostly sound he would later describe as serendipity, and carefully crept from the mouth of the cave to an area of shadow behind a natural cleft in the ridge and peered over the edge. All thoughts of the nightmare were gone; his mind clear with deadly focus.
Below, almost two hundred feet down and to the north was a group of five individuals Kascar did not immediately recognize traveling a snow patched path. He reached for his spy glass, one of his many tools he employed when tracking a quarry and held it over his eye.
A group of Zhents had stopped to examine something in the road but then recognition struck the hunter, Kascar focused on an absurdly laughing individual and cursed the air for not having his crossbow within reach. Trebek Vason. Red filled the hunter’s perceptions threatening to cloud his judgment when Kascar heard his traveling companion, a slayer and also a former ranger, come up beside him.
Kaskar handed the spy glass to his companion as he silently turned back to the cave and thoughts of the nightmare and the skeleton hand. Wordlessly the hunter and the slayer gathered their camp, as they have done countless times before, and tracked the sorcerer and the Zhents back to the Citadel of the Raven.