The glaciers. They never did seem to move for me. There were always stories, the steel cliffs were said to be as chaotic as the sea, earth shattering powers colliding, creating avalanches so large that the flames of south couldn’t pierce them. Force said to be so cataclysmic, dragons were formed from the mere aftershock. Not here.
As a kid, I would go off on adventures, pretending I was looking for the magically elusive frozen foot toads, tunneling rodents indulged in espionage, even frost bitten satyrs turned into standing skeletons. But for as long as I could remember, the ice wall was there. Taller than any mountain could be found, and strong enough that not even the mighty Olf could scratch it’s surface. 12 symbols made up its surface, each one a hundred miles wide and yet still only looked to be small carvings. We used them to track the moon, something the frostlings did to gain strength, but to my village, it was just a reminder that we would never be the biggest things around. I’ve made it known that the statement is false.
Speed. That’s the first thing we train for. Decades of charging through the snow, often in mounds taller than us. I’ve lived a life longer than any other race of the 4 kingdoms, not even the undead have seen as many years as I have. And I spent them all preparing for one moment.
The goddess brought me my hammers, when collided, they give me the ability to increase my strength 2 fold. My cloak, the tattered remains of a once proud prince of the feline tribes. My helm, adorned with the horns of a forgotten king who failed his ossified armies. My entire being is to decimate those who oppose me and the powers beyond. You hear of an avalanche and you weep for the victims, not me. I am the avalanche.
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