Vaaga
The Frostchild
The warm sun shone great rays of light down into the people of Astenvale. Everywhere one turned the promise of life was seen. Flowers in bloom nourished the world, the wind blew warm atop the trees and people wore smiles of simple contentment.
Vaaga hated it.
He hated the sun that burned his skin, the clear blue of the sky hurt his eye and when the weather warmed he had to work harder to make his spells remain.
A creature of the ice and snow he remained even when his Artistic curiosity bid him journey to such inhospitable places as this.
A bee came close and he waved it away as he made his way down the street. Such unpleasantness was a necessity that he bore without complaint, at least without verbal complaint. For it was known that the Vayd Tree was a thing old and ancient and it would be a sore thing to miss learning what he may about it before moving on. Even if it meant a whole season in this unbearably happy place but to get close without trouble he would need to meet with its guardians, the Knights of Anathaeum and as he made his way past the last few buildings on the road to their Fortress Monastery he decided to take the cooler path under the treeline.
Already his hands and face bore the sting of sunburn and he knew he would peel and crack and possibly even blister by the morrow.
The things he put up with for his pursuits were in truth simply irritants to him but he was aware of how unhinged he looked. Hair loose, skin burned and tattooed outlandishly, a glaring eye of black stone. He knew he looked less like a sorcerer and more like an ice fisher who went mad from the heat and got terribly lost.
Idly he reached for the seashell which he had recovered upon his return to Unicorn bay and Venla's old dwelling and now he wore about his neck. The note stated that the construct which held it lasted almost three whole weeks. Which was remarkable in itself since it should have crumbled to ice chunks hours after he left at most.
So now he fed it a little bit of his own harvested shroud every day for a few minutes. Let it sit in places of power and convergence that it may gather what it may naturally. As a kind of reserve it worked well enough and while it was tempting to use it to summon a cool breeze he did not wish to waste it on frivolous things when he was about to walk into a place so well made for killing outsiders.
The townsfolk had in truth spoken well of these Knights but Vaaga would withhold judgement until he met them himself.
Manners made the man or so his old master had beaten into him and he took it seriously, as he took everything else.
Now he had to treat with those he did not know and who did not know him and he felt like if he did not drown in his own sweat first they would take one look at him and, fire a crossbow at him or something.
Then he would be forced to deal with them and it was too hot to entertain such fancies.
The gates came into view at last and it almost made him sigh with relief.
Though he did not see any guards or watch and the gates hung open.
For a long time he stood in the treeline, watching, convinced it was some kind of test or trap, a blue clad ghost in the woods.
Then he decided he would rather be dead than remain in the shadows like a humiliated houseguest or shy attendee. So he strode with purpose through the open gate and into the grounds...
...and right into someone who was happening to walk by the gate on his blind side.
The heat and embarrassment reacted violently into anger that flashed upon his face as his neck snapped left and he saw, Venla of all souls.
"Oh Depths, I'm hallucinating!"
His dry rasp of a voice was low even as his face changed from anger to shock to disbelief in a very brief time.
@Venla Thiel
Vaaga hated it.
He hated the sun that burned his skin, the clear blue of the sky hurt his eye and when the weather warmed he had to work harder to make his spells remain.
A creature of the ice and snow he remained even when his Artistic curiosity bid him journey to such inhospitable places as this.
A bee came close and he waved it away as he made his way down the street. Such unpleasantness was a necessity that he bore without complaint, at least without verbal complaint. For it was known that the Vayd Tree was a thing old and ancient and it would be a sore thing to miss learning what he may about it before moving on. Even if it meant a whole season in this unbearably happy place but to get close without trouble he would need to meet with its guardians, the Knights of Anathaeum and as he made his way past the last few buildings on the road to their Fortress Monastery he decided to take the cooler path under the treeline.
Already his hands and face bore the sting of sunburn and he knew he would peel and crack and possibly even blister by the morrow.
The things he put up with for his pursuits were in truth simply irritants to him but he was aware of how unhinged he looked. Hair loose, skin burned and tattooed outlandishly, a glaring eye of black stone. He knew he looked less like a sorcerer and more like an ice fisher who went mad from the heat and got terribly lost.
Idly he reached for the seashell which he had recovered upon his return to Unicorn bay and Venla's old dwelling and now he wore about his neck. The note stated that the construct which held it lasted almost three whole weeks. Which was remarkable in itself since it should have crumbled to ice chunks hours after he left at most.
So now he fed it a little bit of his own harvested shroud every day for a few minutes. Let it sit in places of power and convergence that it may gather what it may naturally. As a kind of reserve it worked well enough and while it was tempting to use it to summon a cool breeze he did not wish to waste it on frivolous things when he was about to walk into a place so well made for killing outsiders.
The townsfolk had in truth spoken well of these Knights but Vaaga would withhold judgement until he met them himself.
Manners made the man or so his old master had beaten into him and he took it seriously, as he took everything else.
Now he had to treat with those he did not know and who did not know him and he felt like if he did not drown in his own sweat first they would take one look at him and, fire a crossbow at him or something.
Then he would be forced to deal with them and it was too hot to entertain such fancies.
The gates came into view at last and it almost made him sigh with relief.
Though he did not see any guards or watch and the gates hung open.
For a long time he stood in the treeline, watching, convinced it was some kind of test or trap, a blue clad ghost in the woods.
Then he decided he would rather be dead than remain in the shadows like a humiliated houseguest or shy attendee. So he strode with purpose through the open gate and into the grounds...
...and right into someone who was happening to walk by the gate on his blind side.
The heat and embarrassment reacted violently into anger that flashed upon his face as his neck snapped left and he saw, Venla of all souls.
"Oh Depths, I'm hallucinating!"
His dry rasp of a voice was low even as his face changed from anger to shock to disbelief in a very brief time.
@Venla Thiel