Glancing about inside the store, not only for ambush but for anything useful, Azwel is a trifle disappointed that they'd long ago cleared out all ice picks, shovels, and other such things. Too much to hope for, really. The silence is a welcome respite for his ears, though, and he has to brace himself for the wind's onslaught when they reach the door at the other end.

Now, Azwel can do a lot of things, but leaping that high is not one of them. So he opts to take the stairs, his steps light and sure on the ice.

Once at the top he waits to make sure everyone else has gotten up there before stepping up to the beacon. Not knowing how badly it's frozen into place, he gestures the others to join him. "It's probably going to take more than one of us to pull this out," he shouts over the noise.