Deep within the forest, the Throned Giant roved around a large clearing. The leaders of the various Brazen Guard tent groups collected at its opening to discuss strategy.
Tycondrius found the large clearing, free from trees, most peculiar. As a cursory inspection, he swept aside the snow underneath his boots to find hard-packed ice. They stood upon a tributary leading to a small lake, both of their surfaces frozen solid.
Moving shadows drifted about in the depths of the waters, each dwarfing the humans idling unaware. The creatures below were almost certainly more products of the Icingdeath Dungeon. They would not be able to thrive to such proportions, otherwise.
Tycon stood far away from the general populace, upon what he judged to be thicker, denser ice.
Priestess Ariadne - “You ever miss home, Fel?”
Hunter Felinus - “I don’t miss, Sapling.”