You sleep well during the night, on a bed that, though it is hardly luxurious, is still much more comfortable than what you've grown used to as of late.
The following morning, as the Tribe of the Red Bear are preparing to depart, Matthais comes to meet you in the Citadel's courtyard.
"The Eight wish you well on your journey, it seems," he says, pointing to the clear blue sky overhead. "You still intend to head north?"
"Of course," you reply. "For good or ill, our journey is nearing its conclusion, and we must see it through to the end."
"Then good luck, son of the steppe. I hope you find what you are looking for."
You ride north under a cloudless sky, the morning breeze crisp and chill against your face. The Valley of the North Wind has, until now, been little more than an idea, an image in your mind glimpsed long ago. Now, if the map you saw in the Citadel is correct, it lies only a few days from your current position. Your destination is at hand, and with it, the fate of the Tribe of the Red Bear. What you will find there, however, you cannot say.
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