The bitter wind of Icewind Dale howled as it blew across the tundra, crashing into and around the Spine of the World. There was almost no protection from the biting cold besides weather worn cloaks as the band moved at the base of the mountains. Huddled down in heavy furs and clothes the Companions of the Hall trudged on, the hard frozen earth under their feet. The sky above was slate gray and turbulent, threatening a storm. Thankfully it was not yet snowing.
The ranger, Drizzt Do'Urden, led the group with his friend, Wulfgar. The drow's head was bowed to the wind, his eyes, a brilliant lavender, studying the wagon tracks that were barely decipherable in the dirt. His cloak whipped about like lightening, snapping and dancing. Strands of white hair floating around, stinging his eyes now and then.
At his side the tall barbarian strode, eyes scanning the trail ahead, sparkling with excitement. His strong face bore the traces of a fine beard, as gold as his long hair. The wind did not tire his corded muscles as he walked, glancing back at his friends occasionally. It had been years since they had been on the road and he was all but eager. A little behind them was the human Catti-brie, her arm looped protectively around the Halfling Regis. Age did not wither her greatly, as she was merely thirty-eight years old. Under fine eyebrows were deep caring blue eyes, the sparkle of innocence dulled only with intelligence. Her bones felt a little old but she wasn't about to let that slow her down. Long auburn hair danced from where they escaped the loose ponytail. Poor Regis was suffering a cold he had received only a few miles out of Ten Towns. He was swathed in warm clothes (not warm enough for him of course) and had his new boots on yet he still shivered. His curly brown hair sprung out from the wool scarf that wrapped his head, covering almost everything. The only skin you saw of him was his nose and reddened brown eyes.
Bringing up the rear was Bruenor, the surly dwarf muttering every step of the way. His bright red beard swayed in the wind and his heavy but reluctant step firm. His gray eyes were furrowed under bushy red eyebrows, scowling perpetually. His old one-horned helmet on and his notched axe on his back. Despite his grumblings everyone knew his happiness to be on the road again. The companions were on their way to Waterdeep, to discuss something with Harpell who said it was of dear import. Bruenor knew this would involve magic and ships, two things he did not trust greatly. That was the cause of all his grumbling. "Durned Harpell," he muttered darkly as he marched, hands nearly twitching to kill something. "Oh, stop complaining," Catti called back at her adopted father. "Would you rather stay at home"
Bruenor didn't respond, which drew laughs from all but Regis. He merely sniffled miserably.
"How can you be so damn happy in this-this-" Regis began whining before he sneezed violently. "Cold"
"Thick heads and thick hides," Drizzt replied lightly, indicating Bruenor who was dressed for spring. "Come little one. Lets get at least another five miles till sunset," Wulfgar laughed heartily as he stopped to turn and pick up the Halfling. Setting him on his shoulders the barbarian picked up the pace.
About an hour later they came to an abrupt halt as they rounded a rocky outcropping. There, laid out cold in the dirt path and the whistling wind, was a carnage of a caravan. The carts were upturned and broken, pieces missing. The steeds were dead, torn apart with a good deal of their meat and innards gone. Goods were tossed everywhere, anything from scrimshaw to silks and furs. A thin layer of snow and ice encrusted the scene, dripping down the wood and slicking the frozen blood.
Silently they spread out, Catti and Drizzt scouting for tracks, Wulfgar and Bruenor looking for survivors. Regis checked the goods for anything of value. There wasn't much. Bruenor inspected a set of deeply gouged claw marks and spat on them in spite.
"Yeti"
"It is," Drizzt confirmed as he came up with a grim looking Catti. "Trails, disappearing into the mountains to the west"
"Anythin' we need to worry about"
"Its nothing unusual, except the number it must have taken to destroy this caravan. Judging by the signs it had to have taken about a score or so to take it down," the woman answered thoughtfully as she looked at the wreck. Bruenor frowned and Regis looked worried.
"I thought Yeti's were solitary predators"
"They are. That is why its so durned odd," Bruenor growled. For a moment they stood contemplating, each with a worried expression. A call from Wulfgar alerted them as he hollered from near the middle of the wreckage. When they rushed over they found him lifting a horse carcass easily and uncovering something.
"She's alive. The body kept her alive, warm," he said wanly as he shoved the body away. Underneath, caked in half dried blood, lay a woman, a young woman, only about twenty three. She had long, blonde hair, curled and golden. Under the blood she had pale eyebrows and a square but soft jaw. Her body was built sturdily with the curves filled out. A weary sigh escaped her as the weight was removed.
"Its amazing she wasn't crushed by the horse," Regis commented, studying her. "What are we going to do with her"
"It'll be a waste of time to go back to Ten Towns. The closest thing is our destination. We'll take her with us to Waterdeep," Catti reasoned practically. Bruenor nodded slightly and kneeled down, watching her.
"Well, we better find a spot outta the wind. She'll freeze to death other ways," he said, standing up. Out of a pack he pulled out a blanket and had Wulfgar wrap in about her securely. "C'mon, boy, lets go"
Carrying her off, tucked against him, Wulfgar headed for some sort of protection from the wind with the rest trailing behind. Except Drizzt, who fell behind, his eyes to the ground. He had seen her before. He knew he had, a long while ago. But from where?