neron
One large, black obelisk took form at the beginning of their trail, Neron gazing upon it for but a moment before his steel blue stare moved on to the Ursur and the trouble his two idiots were having in keeping it under control. “Skin you? Hardly,” he said softly as he passed them by, his black boots crunching on the freshly ploughed snow. “The amount of noise you’re making, I’ll not have to do anything.” The warning was gentle, subtle - but true. The hungry masses of the icy wasteland would make short work of the guards. Perhaps the bear too, if the creature didn’t join in the feast.
Leaving them to their task, the Hailstorm pressed on ahead until he spotted Wessex, following her line of sight out into the Tundra. “Raiders,” he explained. “Exiled from the citadel, mostly - out here they’re reduced to mad cannibals.
Keep a sharp eye, but they ought to leave us alone.” He waved a hand, conjuring a wave of water that froze on contact with the air, leaving a spiked fan of ice in the raiders’ direction.
Up ahead of them, a large dead tree had fallen across their intended path. “We ought to move that before the bear gets close. Care to give me a hand?”
Leaving them to their task, the Hailstorm pressed on ahead until he spotted Wessex, following her line of sight out into the Tundra. “Raiders,” he explained. “Exiled from the citadel, mostly - out here they’re reduced to mad cannibals.
Keep a sharp eye, but they ought to leave us alone.” He waved a hand, conjuring a wave of water that froze on contact with the air, leaving a spiked fan of ice in the raiders’ direction.
Up ahead of them, a large dead tree had fallen across their intended path. “We ought to move that before the bear gets close. Care to give me a hand?”
you're so cold, put your hand in mine
