The crisp cold night is still fizzling out, but the sun heats you up quick enough. Looking out at the horizon, it's hazier than it's been for a few weeks, but a bit clearer north toward the mountain. A few more spires of the castle are visible, but it's still too far off to make out much structural coherence. Barely a few steps on, a great gust of wind pushes you back against the stone, and you turn to shield your eyes. Your hands press into what you realize are intricate carvings in the blocks. When your eyes open again, the symbols are definitive, but unintelligible: ***~# ** **~##) * *_-@ * ****~~~_ There are leaves on the ground, a few still dancing away from you back down the path. Ahead must be the forest.