Snowblind

[Nosh'marak]

Snowblind

Crunch, crunch, crunch. The mountaintop snow gave way under the plated boots; retreating in to a compact mass tight to the all-year frozen ground.
Steam escaped the half-burnt, grey lips of the Orc as he exhaled, pulling his cloak ever tighter to himself. To the right of his, another set of footprints, or rather pawprints, trailed. The rugged, black wolf quietly padded through the snow, less bothered than his companion next to him. The Orc was far from used to this enviroment, having lived out the majority of his life in either humid slave pits or in the sunny landscapes of Draenor. He moved through the snow with fair difficulty, using a walking stick to support him as he trailed over the uneven and frozen ground beneath him; spirits know what would happen if he were to fall and cause an avalanche. The thought of dying of suffocation on a cold mountain was not one he welcomed with open arms. His mind finally drifted towards memories of easier times, of his life with his Tribe. He found himself looking down at his rune-inscribed claws, shaking his head with a sigh.

"What am I without them? Where does my path lead?", he wondered. Of course, he knew the answer. He had to study, and to follow in the footprints that had delicately been put before him by not only the spirits, but also his fellow tribesorcs. His mind had been opened after the spirits showed themselves to him; he had taken in knowledge like never before and amounted countless of days on end dedicated to studying the forces he now praised so dearly. He shaked his head again, not letting his mind wander far off. Even if these parts were without danger from wildlife or stray outlaws, the cold and the snow would definitely take its toll if he wandered without care. The blizzard was not willing to die down, swirling the snow around him and limiting his vision. Ice crystals had formed in his beard and on his wolf mask, nearly making him look more dead than alive - after all, a grey Orc with half a mangled face and a frozen beard would look more dead than most.

With a sigh, he came to a stop, gazing out over what he imagined to be wide landscapes on a clear day. He looked up at the stars, barely able to see them through the swirling storm. The wolf at his side followed his eyes, licking its maw. They were lost. All because of this damned blizzard, and because he couldn't focus on the task at hand... The Orc prepared to move onwards, moving a few feet before the ground let out a loud crack, and the ice cliff collapsed underneath him - bringing him with it down to the unknown lands below.

To be continued.

[Okiba]

AGH!

Cliffhangar!

GIEF MORE!

[Nosh'marak]

AGH!

Cliffhangar!

GIEF MORE!

Quite literally, yes!