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Hours, seeming more like days, passed as we slowly made our
way up the glassy crags of Icewall. Behind me, the cleric, Elistan,
sighed loudly. Though I was still suspicious of him, he seemed a
kind enough man, not at all inclined to jokes or tricks. What had
I-what had Knugs for generations-expected? Since I seldom left
the village anymore, let alone the glacier, just where was I
expecting to find this messenger from the gods if not on the
glacier?
"Aren't we nearly there?" Tas spoke the words everyone else
longed to ask. "I feel as though we've climbed to the top and back
down again!"
"It 7's getting near sunset," Laurana pointed out. "Perhaps we
should stop."
I, too, had noticed our lengthening shadows upon the cliff face.
Soon the moons would rise.
"If we're not likely to reach that opening soon," Sturm called up
to us, "I say we find a ledge on which to spend the night and rest."
"For once I agree with Brightblade," Derek said, finally giving
in to the strain. Wiping his brow with his fur-covered arm, he
stopped climbing, prompting everyone else to do the same.
We'd used up all the peat crossing the glacier. The thought of a
night spent clinging to this frigid mountain, the wind whistling
louder than Harald's snoring, did nothing to raise my spirits. I
squinted up Icewall past Derek. Though twilight turned every icy
crag dark, one not very far off was larger and blacker than all the
rest
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