Glacian - Iceridden Wanderer

Glacian - Iceridden Wanderer skin description

~ There are some who say the cold winds in the Northern Reaches of the world are bitter enough to twist the most noble of creatures into shadowy and evil imitations of what once was. Jonathan White and his brother Alston lived in a pleasant little home on the edge of a not-so-pleasant forest that just happened to border the northern reaches. They had spent most of their childhood there with their parents whom had recently passed away from a fever. The wind rattled against the wooden shutters, hissing and howling as it passed between the black fir trees. The door blew open with a start, crystalline claws of vapor scratched across the floor and disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. A fireplace was set against the far wall, where Jonathan had slipped into slumber. He was leaned back in an old chair that had served the family very well for many years. A tome was rested in his lap, filled to the brim with old sketches and stories his father had written. The fire was dying, the licks of flame had started to thin, the logs nearly burned out. Alston took it upon himself to feed it. He gently opened the massive door, taking care not to disturb his brother. He padded silently across the vast swathes of snow until he reached the back of the house, where the woodpile lie. They had gone through the entirety of their stock. Alston grabbed the iron axe from beside the stack and trundled off into the forest in search of a sturdy tree to fell. The older of the brothers woke some time later, lifting himself from the chair and letting out a tired yawn. He moved about with no particular haste, drifting from location to location in the quaint house. In the kitchen he cobbled together a sort of supper from a few things in the cupboard. He ate slowly, savoring each bite. It wasn't until later that he noticed Alston was gone. Johnathan called through the house a dozen times, increasing the volume each round. He stepped outside, wrapped in a thick black fur coat. Looking about wildly he saw no trace of his brother. He was about to give up and go back inside when he noticed faint tracks moving off towards the woods. He walked for what seemed like an eternity, past brush, past tree, rocks, it all looked the same. Everything was the same blinding white colour. The air itself was white, thick with snow. Pushing on, Johnathan followed the ever fainter footsteps of his brother. Both of his feet were frostbitten and numb, he couldn't tell if they were tired or not. His once black hair was encrusted with ice and sleet. He felt a sort of strange resignation as the snow fell all around him. In the distance he could make out what looked to be a human. He quickened his pained gate towards the shape. When he reached the shape he tried to let out a yell but his voice had already left him, his brothers' corpse lay half buried in the snow, picked clean to the bone by creatures unknown. His clothes were scattered about the area in tattered shreds. He sat down backwards quickly and tried to absorb all that was happening, but it was too much for him to take . The elder brother jumped up and started running back for the house, forgetting how tired his body was. A root lying in the path caught him around the ankle and jerked him to the ground, he dashed his head on some rocks and went unconscious. No one knows what ever happened to Johnathan. It's been speculated that he froze to death, tired and alone out on the brink of the Earth. Old Nana down in the village would tell you the boy's soul was taken by the Northern Reaches to be its plaything for an eternity. old: