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| Spreading Wings | |
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| Topic Started: Tue Oct 20, 2009 6:22 am (83 Views) | |
| Magnus | Tue Oct 20, 2009 6:22 am Post #1 |
Iron Fists Guild Leader
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It was a bittersweet emotion, leaving home. Though Magnus was overjoyed to be free from this cage, free to unfold his wings, he could not help but feel a sudden pang of melancholy. While these mountains had isolated him from the outside world and held him captive from it, at the same time they had sheltered him, protected Magnus from its evils. But it was not just that alone that contributed to the tingling of sorrow he felt gather in his chest. For the first time in Magnus' life, he was by himself. In a manner, he had always been alone, but at least had his mother's company. Now he was truly solitary. Magnus cast a glance over his shoulder again, surveying the great peaks behind him, observing their snow-covered crests, savoring them as if they might not be there when he returns... If he returns. He felt the stab of dolor swell in his chest again. He gave a pained smile and took in a deep breath, closing his eyes and focusing on the path before him, the feeling somewhat subsiding. This is it then, he thought. Snowfall mingled thickly in the still mountain air, drifting and dancing upon the slightest breeze. A thin layer of snow began to cover the ground, blanketing the area almost completely white. Magnus had been walking on the dirt road since he had began at the Deep City. The path itself was rough and jagged, weaving in between and around great mountain faces. Its width spanned from 15 feet in more open areas of the mountain range, to being barely 5 feet in the more treacherous vicinities. More often then not, it lead down a steep path and if one were not careful, its rocky slope would give way and send a traveler tumbling down. Currently the trail led winding south down an incredibly broad slope, the rocky feature of the road giving way to dirt. The tree line was barely audible through the dense precipitation. Magnus estimated he was a few hundred feet above the tree line, and a bit further away in distance. The option was available for him to simply fly down to it, but being a sentimental person, Magnus felt he should walk the distance. Once he reached the tree line it would be a short distance before the mountains gave way to the rolling Debon Plains, and there he would take flight to wherever the wind took him. He turned to look behind him one last time. Garbed in a white robe, he stood there peering into the distance with solemn eyes. His great wings furled and white, beginning to collect snow as he remained statuesque with a hand held out, snowflakes melting as they made contact with his skin. Just a few more moments, he thought to himself as the mountain made itself visible as the wind picked up. But the longer he stared, the more enthralled he became, and soon moments gave way to minutes and Magnus became lost in reverie. |
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| Thorne | Sat Oct 24, 2009 2:25 am Post #2 |
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Jace lifted a gauntleted hand to the sky, snowflakes slowly collecting on the cool, smooth metal. No heat emanated from the outside, the snow and high altitudes keeping it fairly cool, though the inside remained hot. The heat and sweat bothered the armor's occupant little. Years spent in the suit had left him little feeling, the iron hide becoming something of a second skin to him, feeling the vibrations in the metal much as he felt a touch to his flesh. The time he spent in the armor wasn't so much out of necessity as it was out of ease. It was comfortable enough, and the gauntlets fused with his hands made it difficult to remove the plates anything short of disassembling the entire suit. A layer of frost sheathed the bronze and gray metal, rubbing away in flakes from the shifting joints. The paladin had left the inhabited sections of imythess in favor of the wilds, the mountain range that was left largely untouched by human habitation. He knew little of himself, the journey intended to find himself a purpose in this life, to find something worth fighting for. The evil of imythess, the fiends, the demons, men with blackened hearts, needed to be fought. But by himself, his efforts were useless. And so here he was, walking the paths. The Deep City was a stop on his journey, the dwarves could hold answers to the questions he had. As rarely as they appeared aboveground, they knew much of the workings of imythess. Coming over a hill, he stopped for a moment, the armor settling on itself for support. Groaning, he turned to the side of the trail, approaching a boulder covered with a thin sheet of snow. Wiping it away with a grating noise, he sat, letting sore muscles rest. Reaching up, Jace undid a small clasp, lifting his helmet away from his head, scarf and all. Setting it aside, he wiped away his sweat-beaded brow with the back of a gauntlet. |
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