Red Hand of Doom 5e (IC)

[Amnestic]

It's not a great deal of progress made towards the Giantshield Mountains, but you at least put distance between yourselves and Elsircross in case of a sudden ambush - by Ulwai or others that don't share her professed beliefs.

Day 32

By midday you reach the foot of the Giantshield Mountain range which stretches for miles to the west towards Brindol, and much further east, all the way out of the Vale. The looming peaks shelter the Vale, and its inhabitants, from harsh climates to the north. The well-weathered peaks are arid, though not lifeless, with the northern slopes bearing the brunt of the weather being dry and rocky, and the southern slopes - where you're approaching from - more hospitable with patches of forest and gorges cut by streams of seasonal snowmelt, long since dried up by this point. Isolated farms and cottages are scattered over the southwest portion of the range, though most who live on the mountainsides are little more than hermits and not 'part' of the Vale per se. Out here, in the wilderness, there's little enforcement of Vale law, leading it to be lawless in a way that isn't necessarily criminal, simply the lack of any enforcement beyond the end of whoever has the biggest blade and the will to use it.

The lack of significant settlement by so-called "civilised" races means it's trailpaths are little more than animal trails at best. There's no room for carts or wagons, and it's much slower going to make sure a footfall isn't missed, as doing so could send you tumbling onto rocks below. Your first day in the mountains is spent picking routes that bring you ever further skyward, occasionally having to double back when a rockslide has ruined a path. With your slowed pace, you're perhaps halfway to the peak (which isn't even the tallest mountain).

Day 33

By the time you reach the top of the mountain, it's late afternoon. A strong westerly wind slowed your pace even further as you climbed, with each step against the rocky ground threatening to suddenly be wrenched out from under you by a particularly sudden gust, not to mention the rocks falling from overheard, requiring you to periodically cover your heads for fear of shards raining down on your heads. Cresting the peak is simultaneously exhilarating for reaching the top and deeply concerning, as any sort of protection you had from the wind is lost, forcing you to crouch, lest it carry you away. Still, now above the lip you have a better view of the Giantshields as a whole...and it's much of the same, as expected. There's no army in sight from your current position, but you do spot what looks like a smoke plume, hidden behind another mountain's height, off to the northeast. Distance (and time) is difficult to judge, but it's maybe one or two days away by foot.