The icy lands whipped him in the face. The cold heart of the land was beating like an ice wraiths heart. Cold and barren, He trudged along the frozen land. The heavy armor was wearing him down. The wind wasn’t helping much ether. The sound of his footsteps on the hard snow made crunching sounds each time his heavy plated foot hit the ground. He was covered from head to toe in an ebony encasement. Not a single piece of flesh exposed except an opening in the face. Two ice cold eyes stared out of it. There was a long trail of a sanguine liquid ran into the snow, hard as a rock before it touched the ground. He kept trudging along… the wind did not cease. It was about an hour until he found shelter. It was an Ancient Nord ruin. A long and forgotten door was only hanging by its rusted iron hinges. He pushed on it and it crumbled on his slightest touch. He gracefully rolled down the stairs and entered. He awoke a little later slightly groggy but ok. He was out of the wind. He was in a puddle of blood… it was pooling at his side. He needed to do something fast. He reached over to one of the ancient stone tables and searched. He found some old linen wraps and put them at his side. He unstrapped his ebony breast plate and took off his helmet. He then took off his breast plate. A red hot burst of pain erupted in his side, he screamed out in pain. That was a mistake, down the hall he heard the guardians awake. He was in no shape to fight and needed a plan. He looked around and saw a big urn. He went over to it and slid inside, not making a single noise. About halfway down the wall of the urn there was a little crack, not too big to see inside but just enough for him to see out of it. Footsteps filled the hall and a squad of dragers came rushing in to see what all the commotion was. They are Ancient Nords, before the 1sr era, about 2000-3000 years old there ancient bones make squeaking noses just to move. They guard all Ancient Nord ruins to the death. Well there...
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