Lynn rode the Bone Eagle over the Everwinter Wasteland for four hours.
Below him stretched an endless expanse of white, making it easy to lose one's bearings.
The snowy plains rose and fell in waves, with the occasional black rocky hill protruding from the snow like the spine of some frozen beast.
The wind was fierce, and the snow it swept up struck the Bone Eagle's frame with a faint rustling sound.
The location marked by the mission covered an area a hundred miles across, with no precise coordinates.
Lynn could only follow his instincts deeper into the wasteland while sweeping the ground below with his spiritual power, hoping to find signs of human habitation.
After another half hour of flying, a cluster of low ice huts finally appeared in the distance. It seemed he had found people.
Lynn had the Bone Eagle descend and slowly approach.
This was a tribe built upon a snowy slope, with roughly sixty or seventy ice huts scattered about.
At the edge of the tribe, a group of people was gathered around something, busily at work.
At the center of the crowd was a massive seal, three or four times larger than an ordinary one. Its gray-black body was being dragged toward the tribe by more than a dozen people using ropes.
Every one of them was tall, half a head taller than ordinary humans, with broad shoulders and powerful limbs.
They wore thick furs, their hat brims crusted with frost, yet they moved deftly. They had clearly long grown accustomed to this bitter cold.
Before the hunters even reached the tribe, those left behind spotted their return from afar and began cheering.
The seal was dragged to the entrance of the tribe, where several people pulled out bone knives and skillfully cut open