| Viewing Single Post From: Arctic Expedition | |
|---|---|
| Akaron | Dec 31 2008, 03:09 AM |
|
The chill and bite of the wind were bitter for any normal soul out here in the desolate frigid wasteland of the north. The temperature during the day was barley over twenty degrees with out adding in the wind chill. But Akaron trudged onward, giving little heed to the forces of nature. He could walk for hours like this before having to stop and rest, but the cold of the night might drive him into seeking shelter. As he continued to force his path through the snow, Akaron crested a hill with a smattering of trees. Ducking slightly, he stopped underneath on of the modest sized dead trees, letting the branches block some of the snow. Dusting most of the snow that had collected on his armor off, Akaron inspected the interlocking plate for the one hundredth time since the sacking of An-Havva. The scratches were still there from Jakrah's Mythril blade, a constant reminder that even average fighters could be dangerous with the right weapon. Shaking the long cloak that hung from his shoulder plates, it revealed a banner of sorts. Akaron had had this all purpose heave cloak woven to show his current unity with Hellron's forces. The coat of arms for the Akaron House was imprinted upon the cloak with Hellrons superimposed over it, creating a unique gestalt of the two. The deep crimson material and grey fur trim made the nice warm cloak also look fancy. An on looker might think this Akaron for some sort of noble or king from the quality of his gear and cloak. Looking around, Akaron could barely tell where he was, much less 50 feet. Sighing to himself, Akaron dusted some of the snow off of his armor before preparing to set out into the storm once more. But he noticed something there in the snow, animal tracks, a large cat by the shape of them. *I can hardly believe an animal of this size could survive out here. We the good new is that there must be something out here to eat then. If all else fails I could just track this thing down and cook it.* Akaron thought to himself. Looking back out to into the storm, the feeling came over him again. It was like a pull, a silent calling that urged him onward into the harsh unforgiving wilderness. Adjusting the large war mace at his side he stepped out into the blizzard once more. Snapping off a dead limb to use for kindling later he ducked his head and faced the frigid wind once more. The unstoppable iron clad man continued forcing a path through the snow to his unknown destination. |
 |
|
| Arctic Expedition · Ronom Glacier | |
11:50 PM Nov 28
