The morning air is cold and crisp as you finally make it to the top of Mount Artivalen, having journeyed for days on end. The trail was long, the guide posts coyly obscuring the distance you needed to still travel to finally arrive at the campsite before you. The straps from the pack on your back weigh heavy on your shoulders, but you can tell from looking at the saddlebags draped over your mule Balen that you got the better end of the deal.
With the wind brushing your cheeks and Balen inspecting the dirt, none of the other campers seem to pay you any mind. A lone, icy shriek and the paper crumpled up in your pocket reminds you why you're here. The legendary Haulecs aren't going to hunt themselves, and the Duke is offering a sizable amount to clear them out.
Looking at the campsite, what do you do?