- Messages
- 93
- Character Biography
- Link
The biting wind seemed keen on breaking through every gap in his clothing that it could. The storm had come seemingly from nowhere, the once blue skies giving way to violent thunderclouds and the gray of overcast. Snow and a slurry of freezing rain fell upon the duo in thin sheets, killing the vegetation beneath their feet and threatening to chill their very bones.
Charlemagne pressed on through the growing drifts with dogged determination. The Spine had ever been his home, and her random bouts of fury were something he'd grown accustomed to in his youth. That being said, experience did not make him immune to the elements, and he knew that if they remained out in this storm for much longer it would sap the strength from their bones and claim their souls as it had so many others.
He cast a wary look over his shoulder at his companion. Singar had accompanied him from the Blighted Lands to the outskirts of the floating city to the west where they'd dropped off the witch-girl. He was still uncertain about the whole affair. It wasn't in his nature to offer his assistance free of charge, nor was it to keep a companion for this long. Indeed, he wasn't entirely sure why he'd opted to show Singar mercy back on the blighted plain. Nonetheless, the Orc had sword to keep his company in exchange for his life.
They'd exchanged few words since then. Charlemagne hadn't agreed to his accompaniment for his companionship, but rather his skills in battle. In that vein, Singar had proven quite useful on their journey to the southern Spine.
"I don't think this storm is natural!" He shouted over the howling wind. they strode along the ridge-peaks of the north, the long-trodden hiking trail slowly becoming obscured by the snowfall. The Spine often snowed year-round, but storms such as this were rare in the summer. The roaring gusts slammed into him once again, momentarily staying his feet and throwing back his hood.
"Don't you Orcs have shamanic magic or some shit like that!?" He added as he held a hand above his face to shield his eyes from the snow-rain.
Singar
Charlemagne pressed on through the growing drifts with dogged determination. The Spine had ever been his home, and her random bouts of fury were something he'd grown accustomed to in his youth. That being said, experience did not make him immune to the elements, and he knew that if they remained out in this storm for much longer it would sap the strength from their bones and claim their souls as it had so many others.
He cast a wary look over his shoulder at his companion. Singar had accompanied him from the Blighted Lands to the outskirts of the floating city to the west where they'd dropped off the witch-girl. He was still uncertain about the whole affair. It wasn't in his nature to offer his assistance free of charge, nor was it to keep a companion for this long. Indeed, he wasn't entirely sure why he'd opted to show Singar mercy back on the blighted plain. Nonetheless, the Orc had sword to keep his company in exchange for his life.
They'd exchanged few words since then. Charlemagne hadn't agreed to his accompaniment for his companionship, but rather his skills in battle. In that vein, Singar had proven quite useful on their journey to the southern Spine.
"I don't think this storm is natural!" He shouted over the howling wind. they strode along the ridge-peaks of the north, the long-trodden hiking trail slowly becoming obscured by the snowfall. The Spine often snowed year-round, but storms such as this were rare in the summer. The roaring gusts slammed into him once again, momentarily staying his feet and throwing back his hood.
"Don't you Orcs have shamanic magic or some shit like that!?" He added as he held a hand above his face to shield his eyes from the snow-rain.
Singar