Journey to the lonely man
First Waterday, Planting 5/4/600
Two days passed uneventfully, and wondering how it comes to be so you realize that the chance of encountering someone or something in a narrow snowy trail flanked with deep chasm on one side and a tall sloppy cliff that every time it seemed that is going to crumple upon you – the chances are low (For your imagination think about the path The fellowship of the ring took on the misty mountains before they ventured into Moria…or the death road in Bolivia, the road to La Paz which took too many lives of Trekkers).
After a day you camped in a narrow crossroads under harsh conditions, where the road splits, one way splits down into the chasm and south east, the other way, according to the map climbs up and head north west, the weather during the climbing was cold and the winds threatened to blow you to your death.
In the second day you traveled in a blizzard, it slowed you down and hardened the trekking witch was difficult in the first place. Your lungs are struggling for evety pinch of air and you breathe heavily and slow your pace. After several hours all the group is fatigued and resting and puking are too common.
In the second day, after an exhausting travel, the trail begin to descends into a chasm, leaving you to walk in a frozen icy grassy and rocky ground, moderate snow falls from the endless blanket of clouds and fills the chasm 2 ft. deep making it hard for your horses to travel. After several hours when it begin to darkened, the chasm opens into a rocky wide ledge, another ledge can be seen 75 feet across a Roaring River, the river is 6 ft. down the two ledges, a narrow and completely unsafe rope bridge swings wildly from side to side and is connected with wooden long pitons to the ground on both ledges.
The chasm you walked in continues from the south where you came from to the north and disappear behind the bridge and the haze of the river.
The wide ledge where you stand is flanked from west and east with high snowy cliffs that disappear into the fog, then you spot it … on a narrow ledge, 21 ft. up the west cliff you see a cave with a wooden door, quite a sight you think, out of no where a door is placed in the middle of the cliff, sitting before the door, way up is a gaunt, dirty, disheveled man with matted hair and beard, he wears a tattered cloak over soiled loincloth, hair shirt and rough leggings. Worn sandals are strapped to his feet.
The man look at you but do not move, he just mumbles something but you can’t hear what he said due to the river's loud noise.
